sandwich

no-name features flank steak at lunch this week, rubbed in cocoa and roasted ancho chile powder. they cook it medium-rare and slice it thin across the grain. my relentless pedantry has borne fruit! of this i made a sandwich with 7-grain bread, smoked cheddar, spicy dijon mustard, and sunflower sprouts -- the best sandwiches always are exercises in restraint and moderation. mysteriously, there were also trays and trays of what were billed "wild mushroom bouchees," puff pastry shells filled with mushrooms shredded and cooked with garlic and creme fraiche (and, the sign claimed, thyme, although i didn't taste it). these were good -- flaky, buttery, meaty, garlicky -- but seemed more like hors d'oeuvres than lunch food. as a token concession to balanced nutrition, i scooped up a poblano chile stuffed with brown rice and tomatoes, then lavished with jack cheese, and an egg salad sandwich garnished with a small half-round of cucumber and a sprig of the aforementioned and ubiquitous chervil.

when i walked through after lunch service, a plate of soda bread had been thoughtfully placed on a side counter. it was full of chocolate chunks and dried strawberries and had a beautiful, slightly burnt crust.