*economic futility.

I have been on a sandwich binge of late. It's like the SlimFast diet: sandwich for breakfast, sandwich for lunch, and a sensible sandwich for dinner! Yes, precisely like SlimFast. Only with a lot more mayonnaise.

I have always loved a sandwich, as anyone related to me can attest—I went through an adolescent phase of eating almost exclusively the grilled chicken variety (this grew in part out of a desire to order whatever on the menu came with French fries, but the point remains). It's not a coincidence I might have noticed on my own; I do love a food rut. But I remember the merciless teasing.

Where was I?

Oh, yes. Sandwich-related goods!

I think this would be perfect in the J household.



LSis says the hubby drops crumbs like Hansel. CLEARLY cleaning up would be more fun with a tiny burger-shaped vacuum.

I never seem to have peanut butter and jelly in the house at the same time (who am I, Martha Stewart?), but I love this little sandwich paddle.



Color-coded! Idiot-proof! And ever so easy to spread jelly on your bread while simultaneously getting peanut butter all over your elbow!

What, just me?

Generally I prefer to use dark-color sponges because they hide crumbs, dirt, and mildew, thus rendering them incognito in the ongoing Woodside kitchen saga I like to call "What's That Smell?" But I'd be willing to give appropriate hygiene a go for this.



I'd like to buy them in bulk and stack them on the side of my sink like a loaf.

I still haven't purchased the perfect lunchbox yet. In my hunt for sandwich-related items, I came across this little lovely, but then the octopus caught my eye ...



I haven't really been the same since. Perhaps it should be like handbags—one for each day of the week.

It could be argued that the BLT is the world's best sandwich (add turkey and cheese and it's a club; add cheese and a fried egg and it's a mouth party), so I have NOT ONE BUT TWO great bacon, lettuce, and tomato incarnations.

C'est jewelry



and home fragrance!



For those of you who think a sandwich is an incomplete meal, try this.



Frankly I think the sandwich elevates the soup (why am I drinking my meal?) as opposed to the other way around, but I'm partial. I like the groove for the bowl; it addresses my extreme likelihood to tip the contents into my lap.

Sandwiches do have a reputation for being a little low-brow. The fact that put-stuff-between-bread isn't rocket science means they sometimes don't get the attention they deserve. Which is why I want this.



YES, I can make a sandwich without a road map, but I'd like it as a coffee table book. Where some people have Georgia O'Keefe, I have fatty foodstuffs. It makes a design statement, methinks.

This is an anti-theft device for your work sammy.



Ross Gellar could have used that.

I'd really like this moody print for the Woodside.



It says, "I live alone and eat grilled cheeses after the night falls." Which is a lot to convey without words.

POP QUIZ: What's your favorite sandwich?