My Recipe for a Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich

My Recipe for a Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich

We are living in a truly remarkable time. It is a time of instant communication across multiple platforms, unprecedented citizen participation in political discourse and now, at long last, the Federal government is finally starting to contribute to the culinary world. It's about time, too. Foodies have been letting politicians use the word "pork" in a derogatory sense for decades when, as we all know, pork can a delicious enhancement of many dishes and not just unwanted additions to otherwise reasonable bills meant to curry favor from powerful people.

Mmm... curry.

Ahem. Where was I? Ah, yes. The career-making soundbyte care of Representative Emanuel Cleaver. I can't be certain in which capacity Rep. Cleaver was speaking when he referred to the recent, last-minute Congressional debt agreement as "a sugar-coated Satan sandwich". It may have been as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives trying to get attention amidst his hundreds of peers, as a chairman of the little-known Congressional Black Caucus, as a Democrat trying to match current Republican politicians in crazy phrases or as a religious nut. His main argument against the debt deal is that it apparently violates the tenants of every major world religion, thus the "Satan" aspect of his statement, but we today are so inured to religious fundamentalism that the food aspect of the phrase has caught more attention than the political or religious commentary. I don't plan on changing that, which is why I have decided to devise a recipe for a completely edible Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich.

 

The hardest part of creating a Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich is deciding what exactly counts as the "Satan" portion. After some deep thought, I decided to go for the homonym option. Our sandwich will be 100% vegetarian thanks to the prominent use of seitan, the like-sounding product of high-protein wheat gluten. Seitan is a popular meat substitute and it has an easy time absorbing flavors. That's why our sandwich's quarter-pound patty of seitan is going to be slathered in Tabasco or some other hot pepper sauce. It'll give it some taste but also stay true to the infernal qualities of Rep. Cleaver's original statement.

But what about the sugar-coated aspect? Well, no need to reinvent the wheel on this one. The classic Monte Cristo sandwich has been using sweet, rich French Toast to serve as its binding bread for ages and it has worked out excellently. In order to mitigate the somewhat bizarre contrast of sweet French Toast, meaty seitan and sharp pepper sauce, I think it's appropriate to coat the toast's inner sides with a thin layer of Greek yogurt. It's mildly sweet itself, has a way of softening strong, spicy flavors and the dairy will cut some of the heat from the pepper sauce.

As for garnish, we need to be careful here. Traditional garnishes like lettuce and tomato won't mix very well with this already challenging sandwich, which is why I've taken some further inspiration from Mediterranean cuisine by suggesting cucumber slices. Some grated carrot would also bring a nice crispness to the final product.

So, there you have it. A true Sugar-Coated Satan Sandwich. It's true to the spirit of the idea and, odd as the combination of flavors might be, it has a good chance of being rather tasty.