The Earl of Sandwich: Poached salmon with dill

Gentle readers, welcome to the beginning what I hope will become a regular column here at the Illustrated London Noms.  As some of you may be aware, as well as a notable dandy and lavenderist about town, by day I hold down a job until such time as polite society forgives my indiscretions and my trust fund is reinstated.  Naturally, this leads to a requirement to arrange such nourishment as may sustain me till my release from my clerical desk to the gambling dens and esoteric iniquities that the metropolis has to offer. 

While the weekend often promises a leisurely luncheon (or bruncheon) to be savoured, but sadly more often than not on a working day this becomes nothing more than a sandwich taken at my desk, crumbs strewn over the latest set of accounts.  So how to correct for this sorry state of affairs?  Well, like so many things a little creativity can go a long way; not necessarily with the ingredients themselves, but often just in the combinations.  While many glory in the fillings, it is the accoutrements that really make a sandwich shine.  In this series I shall go through some of my favourite combinations and share them with you, dear reader.

So, I would like to start with a relatively simple offering but one that delights the senses.  While I do hold admiration for the silky, oily joy of good smoked salmon, its humbler poached cousin also has much to offer.  I like to pair it with the crunch and subtle bite of red onion, a schmear of cream cheese, and perhaps some lightly pickled gherkins (although I would caution against too many, as this can overwhelm the more subtle earthy flavour of the salmon).

The salmon itself is mixed with finely chopped dill which gives a delightful freshness and summary appeal, and a touch of mayonnaise or olive oil to bind.  You could also consider swapping the dill and mayonnaise for a little horseradish to give a delightful bite – although this is subject to the same caveat as gherkins.

Finally, the assortment is completed with a squeeze of lemon and a good seasoning of salt and pepper.  Although you could consider more mayonnaise (as so many pre-prepared sandwich chains seem to insist), I think the cheese provides enough moisture and binding to hold this together.  As for bread, I think this works equally well on white, or a good quality rye. 

And voila, a delicious sandwich.  As opposed to a viola, which is variously a delightful flower or a large stringed instrument.  And now, if you will excuse me, I have to go back to my daydreams of trust funds and pretty young things.  I bid you, adieu!