I think it was a combination of the cold and miserable weather, my advancing years, the 4 cans of Strongbow stewing in my gut and the absolute certainty that no one in their right mind would be going for midweek pints that made me stop 100m down the road, utter 'fuck this' to no soul in particular and head back home to fire whatever remnants of food were around into a sandwich.
I went for a ramble around Dunnes the other evening looking for wraps to test out my new €17 George Foreman Grill knock off (Spoiler: It's a ball of shite). They'd none of the standard plain ones left but I did spot these yokes. In standard Dunnes own brand fashion they're not about to spark off any seismic sensory overload in the taste or texture department but the most important thing in this instance was their structural integrity which was near Volvo standard.
On a separate expedition I picked up a bottle of Paul Newman's Caesar dressing on the basis that I really liked him in the Towering Inferno. Also on the agenda was a sliced tomato, grated cheese, a bit of mixed salad and red onion along with a bottle of Kebab Sauce that I picked up a good while ago in un supermarché en France and had been saving for a special occasion. Unfortunately when I checked the date it was a month past its best but in the interest of "I didn't suffer through a 19 hour ferry from France to fuck it in the bin without tasting it first" it still got squirted into the sandwich.
The pictured amount of cheese went onto the meat of the sandwich, 4 hardy, chopped up, chicken goujons, along with some mayo and hot sauce. This went into the oven to melt. I then decided that I wanted more cheese so I grated up a similar dosage to go in the sandwich cold because I still live in a free country.
A couple of minutes in the oven was enough to warm this wrap which was openable (I'm using it in a sentence so it's a word) in a pitta style, before I started building up the salads on a base of Caesar Sauce. A drizzle of the (almost certainly rancid) Kebab Sauce topped off this chapter.
Next the cold bonus cheese got piled on.
Finally the warm, melty gooey mess of the chicken with melted cheese,
mayo and hot sauce was slid on to complete the travesty.
For a delivery device that has the thickness of 2 green Rizla's the Mediterranean Wrap held together to the bitter (that kebab sauce again) end. Again not much in the line of spectacular taste or flair, but it did what was asked of it.
Since I have no point of reference as to what this particular Kebab Sauce should taste like in its prime all I can remark upon is its strong garlicy flavour, whether or not it was meant to be like that I'm not sure but it certainly didn't put me off finishing this sandwich. Paul Newman's Sauce should be applied with extreme caution, though, not with a 16 year old lashing on the Joop degree that I went to. It's overpowering to say the least and probably not the best addition to a sandwich, but 'nothing ventured, nothing gained' as the fella says.