If you’ve seen the movie Spanglish on DVD perhaps you checked out the extras. You would find this recipe there. Adam Sandler plays a chef in the film and was trained to make this sandwich by the famous chef Thomas Keller. Keller is the owner of the famous restaurant French Laundry in California’s wine country.

Here’s the ingredients:

• 3-4 slices of bacon
• 2 slices of Monterey Jack cheese
• 2 slices of toasted rustic country loaf (or other GOOD bread)
• 1 tbsp of mayo
• 4 tomato slices
• 2 leaves of butter lettuce
• 1 teaspoon butter
• 1 egg

Preparation:

1. Cook the bacon until crisp, drain on paper towels
2. Place slices of cheese on one side of toasted bread. Place in toaster oven or in oven under broiler to melt.
3. Spread mayo on other slice of bread top with bacon, sliced tomato, and lettuce
4. On non-stick skillet, melt butter over medium heat. Fry egg, turning over briefly (keeping the yolk runny)
5. Slide finished egg on top of lettuce, top with other slice of bread (recommend cheese-side down)
6. Place sandwich on plate and slice in half, letting yolk run down sandwich

Rumor has it that making sure that the yolk doesn’t break until you cut the sandwich is of utmost importance. Lastly, don’t worry about calories…it’s only about a 1200 calorie sandwich. No worries there. At all.

i’m a jcrew and anthropologie girl. fashion is my muse.

well.. one of them, anyway.

love.

So yesterday I overdosed on laxatives and I swallowed those two little pills and I swallowed two more and they were small and blue and they had a sweet coating and I swallowed them. No water just moving, like screaming neurons of love. Nothing floating. I said thank you to the boy who helped me get them even though he didn’t understand anything, a buoy in the sea like I remember thinking at 3 am at night. Things are beautiful and things are wrong. What isn’t complicated?

Two three four five six little pills, blue like a clear sky and cute like a wasabi pea, down down down into my excess system and trying to work their way in and over my body. My body the altar that has been consecrated and ripped and shredded and mangled like the Iron Chef guts the shiny smelly fish. Somehow sparks are flying when the guitar pick crashes into the strings and the strings snap into the air dancing red and red and blood. It flows like blood and that way I know, I can see it so, I know I’m so real and so dead and so close to the gutter which grows the most honest of flowers.

And so this is it. Today when I threw up and threw up four times I thought wow my things inside me are coming outside, the inside is getting to know the outside, all the love and blue expelling into the pit of the pitch and flush! away it went into the crevice of the earth where it might eventually settle. I can’t write calmly because there are too much shaking in the ground near the epicenter of my artery where it exploded and now the p waves and s waves and love waves are making their way, so that all’s a gaussian blur in the spring of my life.

And somehow still I see this, the spring of my life, in the midst of cherry blossoms and yes there are geisha too, isn’t that funny?