In Canada, we are very reluctant (if we will agree to it at all) to call something a sandwich when a bun is involved. If there’s ANY kind of meat in a bun, it’s a burger. (A whole chicken breast served in a bun is a chicken burger and does not count as a chicken sandwich, for example.)
Fast-food employees trained using US-published manuals have asked me if I would like the meal or just the sandwich, and my first (stifled) reaction has been “What!? I never said anything about a sandwich, I just ordered a burger!”
In ordinary Canadian usage, hot dogs are altogether excluded from this argument. By law they may be this or that, but in normal speech they are sui generis.
Now that poses a tough question: if you take two pizza slices and stick them together with the bread outside, do you get a sandwich?
And what do you get if you arrange them with the bread inside?
and what if you put peanut-butter and jelly all over a Mobius strip, what have you got then? If you fight it out 17th-century style, pamphlets at 40 paces, you’ll want these hot and otherwise useless coinages: PANIPLICATE “to fold bread” PANIPLICATED vs. BIFURCATED (split roll), PANISCISSION “the fact of splitting a loaf.”
A Möbius crêpe I suppose, a treat that would arouse the lipido of any topologist on diet - but only if you manage to keep the peanut-butter on one side and the jelly on the opposite one
They probably omitted PANINODARE “to knot bread”, without which no pretzel would be possible
I suppose a good point of comparison might be the humble ‘McChicken’ or equivalent. A ‘chicken burger’ in the UK, and a ‘(Mc)Chicken sandwich’ in the States.
I don’t think the existence of open faced sandwiches really holds all that much weight. Isn’t its name an admission of its insufficiency as a true sandwich? Seems almost to be saying “bottom half of sandwich”.
All in all I’d rather defy the law and side with Doug’s betweenity vs. enfoldedness: in order to turn a taco into a sort of sandwich one should at least cut off the tortilla where it’s folded and eat the infringing part separately.
As for David_R’s burger, due to my location I’m a little hesitant: here - just like in the rest of the world (McGlobalization?) - a Burger is a bun with something edible stuck in it, but a Bürger is a citizen. And eating a citizen, even if properly cooked and served, might feel a little awkward
Mochi…a sandwich? I don’t think so. Are macarons a sandwich as well?
I feel like if you can say “I’ll have a burrito sandwich” without feeling like an idiot and you also get the correct order then sure a burrito is a sandwich.
My father, from Michigan, would take a single slice of bread with peanut butter on top and fold it upon itself, calling it a “foldie”. He explained the word as a shortening of “folded sandwich”.
Living in the US Southwest he was thoroughly acquainted with the word “taco”.
He did say that a foldie was a version of taco… which literally means “something folded” in Spanish.
Spanish, with its usual widely expansive use of words [“tienda” meaning both “tent” and “store”, “tacón” (literally a large “taco”) being a shoe’s heel (because it was often a folded piece of leather)], would have no difficulty with a folded slice of bread, especially with a filling, being a “taco gabacho”. (Although almost any phrase with the word “gabacho” is immediately anti-Yanqui in a gentle way.)
But would a taco be a kind of sandwich? Certainly, if it were eaten in circumstances appropriate for (or “fumctioned as”) a sandwich. Just like a Pepsi is a “Coke” in Florida, and a burger is considered a sandwich in most of the US.
Which I imagine is the reasoning of the judge.
It is not what is called street food.
street food. noun. : prepared food of a kind that is typically sold to customers on a street or sidewalk and that is often designed to be carried and eaten while walking.
Also that food that is local.
The breaths have I’d
Rather not comment on the meets,
Most don’t combine well and by nature are fewer
I’ll plant myself on your page for more condonements that all seem to fit my slide slalad
As delicious stressings showing the strings that take us back to the historical logic of naming stapled foods together. No earl can hear us now and say we ate too munch. Ham is best early in the morning. This meal of words, although submerged in wheelruts throughout time, could feed and heel us all in due horse. Slip, just hungry, that’s all. I don’t eat horses and I said I won’t mention the meats.
