'In these times of lockdown we all need the comfort of a chip butty': An ode to the loaf

I’ve always loved bread. I’m the sort of beast who goes out for a pizza and orders focaccia to start. Bit peckish between meals? Straight to the bread bin. In all honesty I think I alone eat two loaves of bread a week. My poison of choice is a sourdough, but I’m not fussy, providing it’s covered in salt and butter.

Away from the sourdough and all its’ middle-class loftiness, I’m also a fan of a French stick - drizzle a bit of olive oil on that bad boy with some sliced tomato and I’m completely capable of demolishing something a metre long in under half an hour. You just need enough oil and wine.

My ability to put away obscene amounts of bread is second only to my ability to eat copious amounts of crisps. I laugh in the face of the so-called family bag.

My love of bread is now so deep rooted in my worldview that I use it to ascertain whether I’m going to truly bond with a person. The best people in my life can hold a full conversation on what crisps and bread are optimal, and rank them depending on the situation.

But bread has been somewhat demonised of late. Those dieting or indoctrinated in some clean-eating philosophy shun it as though they’ve been asked to eat something still crawling.

A certain section of my friends are particularly guilty of this. Even when a waiter brings over one of those lovely mixed baskets of bready heaven, probably still warm with a nice selection of sourdough to wholemeal, they’ll send it packing. Lost forever to another table.

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Potatoes suffered a similar fate around the time the Atkins or Keto diets were popularised in the mid-noughties. And I say enough, I want this madness to stop. With it being British Sandwich Week there seems to be no better time than to praise the humble loaf.

In fact, there’s not much that cannot be 100 per cent improved by being sandwiched between two pieces of buttered bread. A sandwich is bread cuddling food. And I think we all need a cuddle right now.

I’m vegan, so I apologise if the next part of my ode to bread is not to your taste. I understand meat or fish in a bap is hard to beat. In fact one of my biggest cravings for a long time after turning vegan was a prawn sandwich. But to be honest it’s probably more the mayonnaise I liked anyway (and Vegenese is a wonderful alternative).

These are my top five sandwiches, based on the frequency I make them and what situation I want them in:

5) Cheese and cucumber or tomato

Must be made fresh and using a sturdy white bread with a good crust, or a French stick, to avoid the bread going soggy around the tomato. Also, never combine the cucumber or tomato. This comforting classic is only made better by the addition of a salt and vinegar crisp. Can be eaten at any time.

4) Egg and watercress with lashings of mayonnaise.

I substitute the egg with tofu, but the rules remain the same; don’t mash the egg too much, you need distinction between the yolk and the white, and to retain larger chunks. The watercress should be the posh kind with big leaves, not the sad wisps of long ago classroom experiments. This is obviously a lunchtime snack, or mid morning. If you are unable to make your own, M&S do both a vegan and non vegan variety I find particularly comforting after a wine.

3) Ham and cheese ploughmans

This beast needs real care to prepare. Non vegans can go to town on this using the finest cold ham and thick Cheddar, partnered with a cos lettuce, a good quality onion chutney and thick tomato. Again, make this fresh to avoid the soggy bread nightmare. If you’re also vegan, substitute the fun bits with the usual misery from your local vegan retailer. A wholemeal loaf is best used here.

2) Hot chicken and watercress with mayonnaise.

The chicken must be just warm enough to melt the butter, but not eviscerate the mayonnaise or make the watercress limp. This one needs a sturdy bread to hold everything together.

1) The chip butty

Forget the clap for carers, nothing makes me prouder to be British than the gluttony of a chip sandwich. Now for this to truly earn its number one status it must be made using proper chip shop chips, which are practically sweating in salt and vinegar. Add ketchup or mayo if you must - not both, don’t be a savage - and press together two heavily buttered slices of white bread.

You could opt for sourdough, but let’s be honest, you’re making a mess of yourself already, why dress it up? In these times of lockdown, stop with the bread snobbery and treat yourself to a good old fashioned chip butty.