Meal you hold in your hand

Six sandwich recipes you can’t resist

It is a debate that has been passionately argued by culinary philosophers for centuries: Do sandwiches taste better when eaten standing over the kitchen sink, or when they are picked up from a paper plate?

I am firmly in the kitchen-sink camp. To me, paper plates are almost no better for sandwiches than china plates, which are practically like eating them with knives and forks.

I spent a lot of time standing in front of my sink the other day when I made six types of sandwiches. All of them were hot sandwiches — that is, each one had to be heated before it was ready to be eaten. I’d like to say that was my original intention, but actually the truth of it came to me like this:

Hillary the photographer: “Hey, all of these are hot sandwiches.”

Me: “Really? Huh. What do you know about that?”

So I definitely intentionally set out to make six hot sandwiches, each unusual in its own way. Some were relatively easy; some took more time and effort, some were decidedly fancy. All were awfully good.

I began with a spicy fried chicken sandwich, which I modeled on the chicken sandwich sold at Popeye’s. The fast-food chain began selling the sandwiches two years ago, and they immediately became insanely popular. At least one person cut in line to get one and was stabbed to death.

I wanted to re-create the sandwich at home, but I faced a major impediment:

I have never actually had one. I like Popeye’s, but I haven’t been to one in years. Still, I figured if they can make the sandwich, so can I.

I began by marinating chicken breasts overnight in a buttermilk brine flavored with a bit of paprika, garlic powder and onion powder. When I was ready to cook, I breaded them in a mixture of flour, cayenne pepper, salt and garlic and onion powders, so both the breasts and the fried breading would be highly flavored.

A little internet research revealed Popeye’s serves theirs with spiced mayonnaise on a brioche bun, with lettuce, tomato and pickles. The pickles are apparently very important. So I served mine the same way. The pickles, I am happy to report, were key.

The sandwich was simply spectacular, as good as the famous version served at Popeye’s. As far as I know.

Much easier to make, and every bit as intriguing, was a sandwich created by celebrity chef Jamie Oliver, Cheesy Kimchi Toastie.

Yes, the name is a little cheesy, itself. But the idea is, as Oliver would say, brilliant. It is a grilled cheese sandwich with finely chopped kimchi in the middle, and additional bits of crunchy cheese on one side.

Spicy, salty kimchi, with that unmistakable funk that only comes from the Korean red pepper called gochugaru, turns out to be the perfect foil for the robust richness of sharp cheddar cheese. And the crunchy bits only make it that much better.

The name of the next sandwich I made gives an indication of what it entails: Red WineBraised Flank Steak With Roasted Peppers, Onions and Gruyère.

Not only is the flank steak braised in red wine for 21/2 hours, red peppers have to be roasted — you could use red peppers out of a jar, but it won’t taste as good — and red onions are grilled in a skillet before you can even begin to assemble the sandwich.

Yet the sandwich is so brilliantly balanced, so deeply satisfying to the soul, that it is another confirmation of the adage that is so often true: The more effort that goes into cooking a dish, the better it tastes. It is so good the restaurant that created it, Wichcraft in New York, had to stop selling it because it was too popular and took too long to make, creating a backlog in the kitchen.

I next decided to make a Reuben sandwich my way, which is to say without Russian dressing. I have never understood why people put Russian dressing on Reubens. To my palate, the mayo-ketchup mixture blows out all the other flavors in the sandwich. Your eyes tell you that you are eating corned beef, Swiss cheese and sauerkraut, but your tongue tells you it is Russian dressing all the way.

Instead of Russian dressing, I used deli mustard, which is far more sensible and as far as I am concerned is the only worthwhile condiment to go with corned beef. I also used pastrami instead of corned beef, because why not? Either one works especially well with this dish.

Meanwhile, it is my considered opinion that no self-respecting New York-style deli should even bother carrying Russian dressing, except maybe for a salad. Maybe.

My next offering, like the flanksteak one, came from Wichcraft. It’s called Gruyère With Caramelized Onions, and basically it is French onion soup turned inside out.

Slowly caramelized onions are in the middle, surrounded by smooth, melted gruyère cheese. The croutons that usually float in the soup as a base for the cheese are represented, of course, by the pieces of bread that make up the outside of the sandwich.

It is just as delectable as a well-crafted bowl of French onion soup, and you can eat it standing in front of your sink.

My final sandwich was a Silky Omelet Baguette, in which a silky omelet is inserted into a baguette and topped with a simple, quick salsa.

The omelet is silky because it is made quickly, without fuss, with only cheddar cheese, chives and curry powder to flavor it. The salsa also comes together in a minute; it is just cherry tomatoes and slices of jalapeño tossed with olive oil and red wine vinegar.

Nothing could be easier, or at least not many things. Yet it is versatile, a breakfast you could eat for lunch or dinner or a late-night snack.

It is a sandwich for all seasons, a testament to the fact that you can put pretty much anything between slices of bread and come up with a winner.