You should know that as this sandwich was being prepared, I foolishly left the butter on the counter and turned my back. In a heartbeat, Gracie leaped up and snatched the golden cube; in a second heartbeat I commanded her to drop it. She did. After inspecting the butter to find only the tiniest of tooth marks, I rinsed it off and used it anyway.
Well, I'm a firm believer in home-cooked meals at all times of day.
And because my body clock works on a delayed sleep schedule, my daytime meals are very light, and I'm up for many hours after dinner.
So a warm, satisfying bite to eat around midnight is a necessity for me.
Lately my obsession has been a grilled cheese sandwich.
Now, I've been churning out these classics for decades, and usually my goal is to elevate the ingredients.
Wheat bread loaded with nuts and seeds or sourdough, tangy and crusty.
Sharp cheddar or smooth Monterey Jack, stringy mozzarella or pricey provolone.
But lately, I'm all about the low-brow basics of buttermilk white bread and American cheese.
I know.
So salty and processed and utterly unhealthy.
But when I cook one of these babies up, savor every heavenly bite, and lick every last buttery crumb from my fingers, I have no regrets about my midnight snack.
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