To eat, or not to eat? That is the question whenever I encounter a meal that looks like it could potentially keep me from waking up the next morning (yes, I do know that’s from Hamlet, but please play along).
I’ve heard the stories about the amazing toasties served by Deeney’s every Saturday at Broadway Market, but could never get myself to wait on the eternal queue always in place to buy them (two years and a half in London have still not broken my queue allergy). Until one Saturday came…
After an insanely long time waiting time (five minutes really, but again, play along), i got my sandwich. The Macbeth. It includes cheddar, caramelized onions, some greens, and that always mysterious Scottish ingredient, haggis.
So yes. Haggis is disgusting. It’s meant to be. But this sandwich is divine. Like, a good Shakespeare play, there’s suspense (“is this actually going to be good? It can’t possibly be any good if it has HAGGIS”), romance (“Cheese, I love thee thy melty cheese”) and tragedy (“It’s over. I have finished it, and now there’s none left. Life is pointless”). It’s probably better than all of William’s plays combined. At least you can eat this. You can’t eat a play. Yet.
Slimy? Your hands will be very greasy, but the sandwich holds itself surprisingly well. It certainly doesn’t have a pound of flesh on it.
Satisfying? Better than anything you could ever buy from a merchant (not necessarily one from Venice).