Maybe I should have waited until Father's Day to feature my dad and his particulars when it comes to a cheese-related topic, but considering our lunch theme this week, I thought this may be appropriate nonetheless.
My dad doesn't cook. At all. Except for one thing, which happens to be particularly satisfying at lunchtime: grilled cheese sandwiches.
I follow this simple process, as written by my dad, which I happened to dig up recently during a big cleanup of my food files. It's the recipe with which I grew up, and which perhaps was the first fuel for my passion for cheese.
Making a grilled cheese might seem obvious, but there are a few key steps, all of which I think my dad — in all of his non-cookery glory — committed to the written word with great care.
My dad's no recipe writer, but looking back on a book my mom made me of compiled family recipes, his headnote and cooking process is actually detailed, thorough, and perfectly written. I swear I'm not biased. It's as if my father knew, when writing this, that nothing gets under his daughter's skin more than a poorly written recipe. Well done, dad. Even the ingredients are in order according to their usage in the recipe.
And so, I thought I'd include his recipe here, nearly verbatim, complete with his specifications for the perfect cheese and the requisite accompaniment.
DAD’S TOASTED CHEESE SANDWICHES
(As written by my father; my comments/adjustments in bold.)
Since this dish doesn’t take very long to make (naturally), the most important thing about it, like all household projects, is having the right tools. Over the years I have settled on a fine, fresh [fresh? really? Can such an adjective be accurately applied to such a product?] brick of Velveeta as the best cheese, [I swear he'd choose Emmenthaler these days — a very classic, relatively strong Swiss cheese — which he counts among his favorites and which is actually what I always remembered his using. Maybe I just blocked the memories of Velveeta.].
If you can find this, then the most important element of this recipe becomes the slicer. You must cut the cheese into slices as thin as possible. (These thin slices also taste the best while you are snacking on them while waiting for the sandwich to cook.) The ideal slicer for this project is the one with a wire stretched between two arms that are far enough apart to straddle the brick of cheese. If you don’t have this kind of slicer, I imagine a pre-wrapped slice of American cheese [What?! Well, I suppose we all have our moments] would work too – but not as well. I also recommend a bread with a nice texture, say, Oroweat Winter Wheat.
Here is the recipe for one sandwich. This sandwich is also best consumed with a sour accompaniment, like a dill pickle, to set off the bland taste of the cheese [Again, probably why I think his best grilled cheese sandwiches are made with Emmenthaler and not Velveeta], kind of the way a ravishing Jewess (my mother) complements a backwoods Presbyterian (my self-effacing father).
Tub of butter
Two slices of bread
One slice of cheese
Pickles
Butter the first piece of bread on one side and place it, buttered side down, into a frying pan. Then put one thin layer of cheese on the bread. It is important not to use too much since you don’t want the cheese to ooze out and make the pan messy. Butter the next piece of bread on one side and place it buttered side up on the sandwich. Turn on the stove. [This may be the best example of an instruction that incriminates my dad the most as a non-cook. How about turning on the stove to heat up the pan first, before putting it into a cold pan?]
While the sandwich is cooking, lift up the corner frequently to monitor the color of the bread that is frying. You may even choose a lower heat to make sure you maintain the precise control over this process. After about a minute, when it is just the exact degree of crispness and brownness, turn the sandwich over and cook the other side in the same way. When the second side is cooked, remove from the pan and cut diagonally. [The diagonal cut: vital.] Allow it to cool and serve with a dill pickle or two. Repeat as necessary until hunger abates or until you run out of pickles.
Nora Singley is an avid lover of cheese, and for some time she was a cheesemonger and the Director of Education at Murray's Cheese Shop in New York City, where she continues to teach cheese classes for the public. She is currently an Assistant TV Chef and food stylist on The Martha Stewart Show.
Related: Grilled Cheese: 14 Recipes and Tips for Soup's Best Friend
(Image: Flickr user wintersoul1, licensed for use under Creative Commons. )
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just one thin slice of cheese? i definitely disagree with that!
Why are you being so f-ing harsh on your old man?
It turns out that your father's recipe is 100% identical in ingredients and process to my own, and I too am somewhat of a cheese snob, having also worked in a cheese shop!
Regarding the comment:
"This may be the best example of an instruction that incriminates my dad the most as a non-cook. How about turning on the stove to heat up the pan first, before putting it into a cold pan?"
This is the one of the few cases where I intentionally put something into a cold pan. The reason is that it gives the cheese a better chance to fully melt before the bread is excessively toasted or burnt. Since it's bread and it's well-buttered, there's little risk of it sticking.
Agreed about starting with a cold pan. This is how I make toasted cheese sandwiches too!
I think this (the post and your dad) is adorable! Not harsh at all, just lovingly teasing. Definitely need more than one slice of cheese though, and ix-nay on the elveeta-Vay!
One thin slice of cheese? That's blasphemy! I definitely slice the Velveeta at least 1/4 inch thick.
Also, please don't tell me you actually snack on solid Velveeta while cooking? It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it.
Your father has a great sense of humor. "Repeat as necessary until hunger abates or until you run out of pickles" is just a fabulous line.
I think the last line is the most important, the instruction to "Repeat as necessary until hunger abates or until you run out of pickles." Perfect!
@emb343 - I second that!
As an avowed, dedicated lover of cheese, I have been known to indulge in the plastic-cheese grilled sammitch from time to time, and it's definitely a very specific craving that no gorgeous cheddar or anything else could satisfy. I love that you've shared your dad's wonderful way of narrating his recipe!
In my family, my father does all the cooking (ALL the cooking), save my mother's repertoire of three items: cornbread, pancakes, and grilled cheeses. I wonder what it is about the grilled cheese.
My favorite line is the ravishing Jewess and backwoods Presbyterian. Just delightful.
I'm sorry, but velveeta or kraft cheese is the best on a plain grilled cheese. If you're adding meat, not so much...
I also sprinkle in some cayenne pepper!
@peakmo, my mom only used Velveeta for her steak and cheese subs. Even now, I want one. *wibble*
I love this post! Regardless of how anyone might rate the grilled cheese that results from the recipe this piece is absolutely wonderful and sweet. Love!
What a great post! Love, love, love your writing and your dad!
If I weren't in my office salivating over the photo, I would be at home making myself the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.
ha, your dad is funny!
I always use velveeta for my grill cheese, and from time to time, I had an extra cheese, usually provolone because it gets so stringy once melted.
Love it! I agree on the one thin slice of cheese... especially if you use good cheese. I'll admit, I do like to let a little cheese melt off of the edges and sizzle and crisp on the pan... For me that might be the best part :)
Although I LOVE grilled cheese (I have some variation of it everyday for breakfast), I HATE the taste of velveeta. It stands out so strongly in anything.
Different strokes I guess.
I've never met a cheese I didn't love, and each has its own purpose--Jarlsberg for eating out of hand, Parmesan for topping pasta, any strong blue for nut bread and grape sandwiches, and, yes, Velveeta or American cheese (fake cheese in my lexicon) for grilled cheese sandwiches, complete with spongy white bread and margarine (butter burns). I don't eat those three things in any other context but together they make the ultimate comfort food and perfect companion to a mug of tomato soup.
Your dad's recipe is awesome, but I disagree on the pickles--I like sweet gherkins with mine!
Yum. Grilled sandwiches. I think I'll have one today. And that the kind of cheese isn't so important, as long as it's a kind you like. My grandfather's version involved placing a full tea kettle on top of the sandwich while it was cooking. Smooshed thin, oozing and browned -- how I love it.
Mmm, grilled cheese. I personally like to put the pickles IN the grilled cheese sandwich and then smash the heck out of it with my spatula as it cooks. American or good old medium cheddar works for me.
Mmmm, I love me a grilled cheese sammie with a slice of Kraft American cheese, pan-fried to golden crispness, cut into diagonal pieces and then dipped in a 50-50 mixture of ketchup and sriracha. Nom nom nom.
Oh - and served with tomato soup. :)
Sounds Great! I love to experiment here! Try using two pieces of cheese, but try a thin slice of onion in between (again, experimenting with different types) and also try a spicy mustard (off sets the bland chesse much in the same way the pickle does) Even my onion hating kids love it!!!
I love this. My dad made his grilled cheeses JUST like that, and when I was small, I thought Velveeta was the best cheese ever. I've since grown up and enjoy all sorts of cheeses from all over the world, but you simply can't go wrong with this sandwich. EXACTLY as your dad made it!