The chefs make sandwiches. I fucking love sandwiches. I'm like Joey about them: they are my favorite food. Colicchio's menu at 'Wichcraft is pretty tempting and I really can't wait for the San Francisco place to open on Market. I think my favorite is the goat cheese, avocado, celery, watercress, and walnut pesto on multi-grain. I think I'll go make one now. Lee Anne is whipping up something with sunchokes and eggs on focaccia. Stephen fishhooks with eggs, plantains, and brioche. Dave sobs over ham, arugula, and grape jelly. Okay, he isn't actually crying. Yet. Tiffani tells Dave to watch his bacon and then lunges at the stove. That was nice of her. I hope it wasn't just because she knew the cameras were on her. Tiffani's sandwich looks as though it will be made out of roast beef, eggs, and arugula. Miguel builds with chickpeas, zucchini, and sprouts, while Harold deals with mortadella, red grapes, and sunchokes. I would have loved to be on this challenge and it would have been the only one I could have even attempted. I might have gone with peanut butter, jelly, and bacon, or fresh goat cheese, roasted cold beets, fennel, and dressed watercress, or even ham, brie, tomato, and chives. Wait, no, Gorgonzola dolce, sliced pears, crushed walnuts, and Maui onions. Okay, stop the presses: yellow mustard, sharp cheddar, green apples, ham, avocado, and sprouts. I'd name it "The Andrea." Time elapses, and Stephen swears, doing a flicking thing with his towel. I think he's annoyed, but his mannerisms are so Beau Brummell blotting down his moist brow on hot day on London's Rotten Row that it's hard to tell.
Colicchio tells the Katie Leebot that they will be starting with the hot sandwiches. Stephen presents his sandwich, explaining, "I've prepared a breakfast and lunch sandwich. I'm a big fan of having eggs in the afternoon because I rise pretty late." "Is it fair to say it's a brunch sandwich?" Colicchio asks. Stephen pauses, comically flummoxed, and says, "Yes!" His sandwich is a sunnyside-up egg, crisp prosciutto, melted Manchego cheese, plantains, mangoes, a shaved fennel salad that is dressed in lime juice, olive oil, chiles, and parsley, and grilled brioche bread. There's a lot going on there, but it sounds perfectly delicious. Colicchio bites and mutters that it's quite good. Dave decided name his sandwich "Grape Ape," which is composed on grilled sourdough bread (nice nod to San Francisco). It has lightly dressed arugula, a duxelle of portabellos and creminis that also has bacon and roasted peppers, black forest ham, Pecorino Toscano, and grape jam. I don't get the grape jam with a mushroom duxelle that also includes roasted peppers. "Why do I think Colicchio just wants to eat a bunch of sandwiches?" Mathra wonders. Colicchio likes it and compliments Dave for "going back to [his] flavors." Tiffani has a big sandwich to go with her big face. Colicchio even comments on the largeness of it. (Her sandwich, not her face.) She calls it "French Toast Toad-in-the-Hole" and it is roast beef, arugula, with the egg (the "toad") wrapped in Fontina, rosemary, and fennel seed. "I think I need a bigger mouth for it," Colicchio says. I'm sure Tiffani can lend you some of hers. "I was embarrassed, I was literally embarrassed," Tiffani tells us. Oh, she's one of those people who don't know how to use the word "literally." Figures. Colicchio thanks her for her offering and says, "That was -- that was work."