Yesterday morning I’m laying in bed, checking my email and reading the news, when I get an IM from my husband:

“http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/gallery/2010/apr/07/how-to-make-shooters-sandwich … this looks soooo goood”

Nevermind the fact that we’re only 10 feet away from each other and he IM’d this to me; he was right. This did look good. So out of bed I hopped, deciding to get ready and head to the farmer’s market to procure some tasty ribeyes from Prather Ranch. After a quick check of the other ingredients (yes, I do have Dijon; no, I don’t have horseradish), we were off on this rainy day to gather our food.

Apparently this sandwich was created to mimic the Beef Wellington, only in a portable manner for gentlemen who were hunting (I guess the ladies didn’t partake). It was popular with the cooks because it could be put together the night before, making all the tastier.

I started out by dicing about 1 pound of mushrooms and 1/2 pound of shallots, and sauteing those in a bit more than 5 tablespoons of butter. Season the mixture with salt and pepper, and as it begins to lose moisture and stick to the bottom of the pan, add a shot of brandy, a dash or 3 of Worcestershire, and a minced garlic clove. Once the mixture is sufficiently softened and moisture-free, remove from heat and set aside.

Next up – the yummy ribeyes. Season with salt and pepper, and grill with a bit of oil or butter until medium rare. While they are cooking, slice off the top of a rounded, crusty loaf of bread and hollow out the inside (I took about the top third of the bread off). Set the bread onto a large piece of parchment or butcher paper – enough paper to wrap the sandwich in. Have this setup ready for when the ribeyes come off the flame, because they’re going directly into the bread.

Nestle the first ribeye directly into the prepared bread, without letting the steak rest. You’ll want the bread to sop up all of the tasty juices. After inserting the first ribeye, top it with all of the mushroom mixture.

Then, top the mushroom mixture with the second ribeye.

At this point you’ll want to grate some fresh horseradish over the top of the second ribeye (be liberal!). Slather Dijon mustard in the top bread piece, and put the bread lid back on, taking care to nestle the ribeye in the hollowed-out section from the top.

Now the fun part – wrapping and smooshing. Wrap the paper around the sandwich, and tie with kitchen twine. It helps to have an extra person during this part, just to hold the string for superior knottage. Once you have the sandwich tied, wrap it in 2 layers of aluminum foil.

Find every heavy thing you can in your kitchen, because it’s time to weigh this sucker down. I placed the sandwich between 2 cookie sheets, balancing a Dutch oven on top filled with canned goods. Balance this against a wall so the items don’t shift, giving you a half-smooshed sandwich (or a mess in your floor).

Now you drool. For a minimum of 6 hours you’ll think of opening the tasty sandwich. It doesn’t really need to rest for 6 hours, right? Can’t I just apply some extra pressure? While this is running through your head, you’ll see the sandwich shrink before your eyes.

“I’m melting! I’m melting!” << Imagine this said in the Wicked Witch's voice and emanating from the sandwich. After 6 hours (or in my case 4.5, because I just couldn't wait that long), unearth the sandwich, unwrapping it from its foil, and slice through the paper and string, cutting it into 6 pieces (or less, if you're really hungry). What you'll get is a tasty slab of ribeye, full of flavor, melting together with mushrooms and Worcestershire and horseradish. Wash it all down with a black and tan if you're feeling manly, or a nice Burgundy if you want to feel a bit more refined.

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Dinner, Lunch, Sandwiches by Courtney