It's apparently time for me to weigh in on this 300 Sandwiches thing, like the time peer pressure made me go on a Gluten-Free Singles date. For those of you who don't get bitch-slapped by viral nonsense all the live-long day, 300 Sandwiches is a blog penned by a perfectly nice young lady who's being extorted to create and deliver sandwich after sandwich to her boyfriend in exchange for a diamond ring. Did I get that right? No?
I would make a dude 300 sandwiches to not propose, ever, and just continue watching Star Wars while I gchat-complain about it to my girlfriends (which is what's probably actually happening here). Want me to stick around, future husband? Don't get a ring, I'll just lose it while shaping meatloaf. Instead, simply install a massive Viking range with a 24-inch-deep wall hood and a white brick backsplash and rest assured I'll thoughtfully curate you better things than wack-ass "Lazy Elvis" sandwiches for the remainder of your days. And not make you sit through my dumb intros read aloud in a Kristen Bell voice.
That all said, these look like solid tokens of oddly delicious if not totally misguided affection/cries for help. Note: I am explicitly not contributing to the "international discourse about gender and love." That's not what your backlash is called, 'o devout ringless she-crafter of Sir's-between-Star-Wars-nom-noms. I'm saying "these sandwiches sound like they don't suck at all, objectively speaking. Right on."
- ”Back to Business” Peperonata and Goat Cheese on Baguette
- ”Weekend Productivity” Mozzarella and Homemade Pesto BLT (screw your weekend productivity, nobody cares)
- "Don’t Just Google It” Ham with Lavender Goat Cheese, Honey and Caramelized Pecans
- ”We’ll Make the Train” Sweet and Spicy Salmon Sandwich
- “Watch the Hole” One-Eyed Breakfast Sandwich
Wouldn't it be funny if her boyfriend was "kind of kidding" when he suggested the 300 sandwiches thing and called it off with a "Babe, This Was All A Classic Misunderstanding Sandwich," containing a turd and some marshmallow fluff? Let's make a deal: stop doing this publicly and I'll copyedit your sad-wich memoir for freesies.
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