Sandwich Makers of the World Unite – Part 3 Viva Italia!

Last week I advanced the proposition that the American sandwich as we know it today has its roots in Italy. An Italian food lover would, I suspect, turn up his nose in disdain at the transatlantic fare, choosing instead to marvel at what his country has to offer. Let's explore.

In the past couple of articles I've been mildly disdainful of the traditional British offering involving a filling between two thin slices of white sandwich bread with the crusts removed. Have you heard of tramezzini? Italian sandwiches involving.... well, look at the photo and see for yourself. Italy is truly full of surprises. But I have to say that any example I've had there has been delicious, because Italian sandwich makers understand the basic rules.

Virtually every British sandwich shop these days will offer panini. Panino is simply the Italian word for a roll. So please don't go in and ask for a panini. You wouldn't go in and order a sandwiches, would you? Mind you when I did once ask for a panino I was met with a blank look.

Another more exciting phenomenon to hit these shores recently is the schiacciata. This is a giant Tuscan job, made with bread which is similar to focaccia, but thinner and crisper. My foodie influencer chums rave about Toscano in Bruntsfield, and I hear good things about Croccante in Lynedoch Place. Be hungry.

But let's get back to the beginning. The sandwich didn't begin life as luxury food. For many decades, the majority of Italians lived in poverty. Anywhere you find the cucina povera, food waste is not an option and many traditions survive from that. Take, for example, the panino con lampredotto in Florence. A sandwich stuffed with tripe from the cow's fourth stomach. Or Palermo's panci ca' meusa, featuring spleen and, sometimes, lungs. (Don't look appalled - what do you think haggis is made of?) But neither, I concede, will tickle everyone's fancy.

Moving on to things more palatable to modern tastes, a Roman classic is the porchetta sandwich. At its most basic, soft roast pork, crispy crackling, salt and pepper, sometimes enhanced with herbs. Or the lesser known cuzziettolo from Naples. (Thanks, Adam Richman, for uncovering this.) Neapolitan sausage with friartelli, a type of green veg, braised.

Going further south you expect to encounter more basic examples. A couple from Sicily. Pane e panelle sees the bread stuffed with chickpea fritters. Not for me, I feel, but then again I've never eaten a chip butty either. I'd be more likely to choose a pane cunzato, a peasant dish with tomato and anchovy. That has now evolved into the corsaro, elevated by the addition of caciacavallo cheese fondue.

Obviously immigrants into the USA took their food traditions with them. As they prospered so did their food. But more luxurious items were still given names reflective of the old country. The Italian Hoagie and Italian Beef Sandwich, now commonplace in the States, are unknown in Italy itself. My favourite hybrid is the slightly rude sounding muffuleta. What could be more quintessentially Italian than this? Cured meats, cheese such as mozzarella, and, crucially, an olive salad featuring garlic, capers, herbs and pickled vegetables. Invented, however, in 1900 at Central Grocery, a deli in New Orleans run by Sicilian immigrants. It still exists to this day.

The crossover is complete. I rest my case. Have fun experimenting, and please bid good riddance to the dry dull sandwich.

Tom Cooks! will return in a couple of weeks