My mother was a no fuss mother. Our school sandwiches were on a regular rotation.
Vegemite for six months, or until we complained; then peanut paste for the next six months or until we complained. After that it might be tomato, which was my favourite, even when it was a 40C day and my school bag had been sitting in the sun and the tomato was all soft and hot. It just needed the right level of salt and pepper.
Occasionally we had a spread called “sandwich relish” which is no longer sold and it is, seriously, a loss to society. Its vinegar, gherkin and cream mix on crackers got me through more than one month of morning sickness as an about to be mum.
No matter what the contents, the bread was always cut straight down the middle, making two rectangular sandwiches.
My best friend, however, always had “exotic”sandwiches gracefully served as four, tiny triangles. Her sandwiches were egg and lettuce, or chicken and lettuce. Some days, she partook of tomato, cheese and lettuce. I don’t think I ever had lettuce on a sandwich until I went to friend’s house to play.
Yet, when we reminisce, my friend always brings up the subject of my Mum’s tomato sandwiches – fresh white bread and deep red, ripe tomatoes, salt and pepper. With a glass of cold milk.
That those sandwiches were always cut into rectangles never gets mentioned… except by me!