A surprising number of Americans are unaware that a sandwich doesn't necessarily have to include meat. To most Americans (non-vegetarians, obviously) the phrase "cheese sandwich" doesn't really parse.
Such was the case when I was a teenager reading Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the first time. When Arthur Dent repairs to the pub at the beginning of the book, he famously orders a cheese sandwich.
I assumed he meant "grilled cheese" until someone set me straight many years later. And if Arthur ordered a cheese sandwich in an English pub, then it's very likely that it had Branston Pickle on it.
"Cheese and pickle" is a classic British sandwich. The pickle in this case isn't the sandwich pickle we know in America. An American pickle is a cucumber which has been brined. But "pickle" in the British sense means something more like a chutney or a relish.
Branston Pickle is the king of the pickle. To most British people, the brand is synonymous with pickle. This substance is mysterious to the uninitiated. I was spurred to hunt some down when an English acquaintance made a disparaging Twitter remark that something disappointing was "like a cheese sandwich without Branston Pickle."
Although there are a few places you can order it online, the weight of the package makes shipping prohibitive. Luckily I was able to buy some locally at Cost Plus Imports.
Branston Pickle doesn't contain Worcestershire sauce, but that's what my brain keeps insisting it tastes like. It has that same blend of flavors, and the two substances share many of the same ingredients (including malt vinegar, a classic British flavor in and of itself).
There are many things which are un-American about Branston Pickle. Perhaps the biggest is that it is made with chunks of what most Americans would consider to be very weird vegetables. It includes chunks of carrots, rutabaga, onions, cauliflower, marrows, and gherkins. (I must confess, I did not know what marrows are, and had to look it up just now. It's squash.)
These vegetables are uncooked, and pickled. This lets them keep their firm texture and crunch, but leaves them more tender than they would be raw. Branston Pickle is eaten as a sort of side dish in the classic Ploughman's Lunch, and its consistency lends itself to stand-alone snacking (albeit in small amounts). The matrix material has a thick consistency which lets you mound up a dollop on your plate, and allows it to even be eaten by fork.
The flavor is indescribably complex, reminding me of some Thai dishes (albeit without the ever-present heat of Thai food). It has tangy notes, spicy notes, a salty undertone, and a sweetness as well. It is, I can assure you, amazingly delicious on a cheese sandwich.
Among other things, Branston Pickle has a lot of umami, that difficult-to-pin-down savory flavor found in fish sauce, Worcestershire, ketchup, and other substances. It's a real pity that our national umami condiment is ketchup: overly sweet, vividly artificial colored, thin, watery, and bland.
Such was the case when I was a teenager reading Douglas Adam's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the first time. When Arthur Dent repairs to the pub at the beginning of the book, he famously orders a cheese sandwich.
I assumed he meant "grilled cheese" until someone set me straight many years later. And if Arthur ordered a cheese sandwich in an English pub, then it's very likely that it had Branston Pickle on it.
"Cheese and pickle" is a classic British sandwich. The pickle in this case isn't the sandwich pickle we know in America. An American pickle is a cucumber which has been brined. But "pickle" in the British sense means something more like a chutney or a relish.
Branston Pickle is the king of the pickle. To most British people, the brand is synonymous with pickle. This substance is mysterious to the uninitiated. I was spurred to hunt some down when an English acquaintance made a disparaging Twitter remark that something disappointing was "like a cheese sandwich without Branston Pickle."
Although there are a few places you can order it online, the weight of the package makes shipping prohibitive. Luckily I was able to buy some locally at Cost Plus Imports.
Branston Pickle doesn't contain Worcestershire sauce, but that's what my brain keeps insisting it tastes like. It has that same blend of flavors, and the two substances share many of the same ingredients (including malt vinegar, a classic British flavor in and of itself).
There are many things which are un-American about Branston Pickle. Perhaps the biggest is that it is made with chunks of what most Americans would consider to be very weird vegetables. It includes chunks of carrots, rutabaga, onions, cauliflower, marrows, and gherkins. (I must confess, I did not know what marrows are, and had to look it up just now. It's squash.)
These vegetables are uncooked, and pickled. This lets them keep their firm texture and crunch, but leaves them more tender than they would be raw. Branston Pickle is eaten as a sort of side dish in the classic Ploughman's Lunch, and its consistency lends itself to stand-alone snacking (albeit in small amounts). The matrix material has a thick consistency which lets you mound up a dollop on your plate, and allows it to even be eaten by fork.
The flavor is indescribably complex, reminding me of some Thai dishes (albeit without the ever-present heat of Thai food). It has tangy notes, spicy notes, a salty undertone, and a sweetness as well. It is, I can assure you, amazingly delicious on a cheese sandwich.
Among other things, Branston Pickle has a lot of umami, that difficult-to-pin-down savory flavor found in fish sauce, Worcestershire, ketchup, and other substances. It's a real pity that our national umami condiment is ketchup: overly sweet, vividly artificial colored, thin, watery, and bland.