A Quality Sandwich – Breaded Chicken Cutlet, Broccoli Rabe, Melted Provolone, and Hot Pickled Peppers on Ciabatta
The meatloaf sandwiches that my brothers and I were compelled to take for school lunch – lest we starve – were lacking in several components that make sandwiches such fine fare for a midday meal. In fact, they were so bad that they have become legend in our family, despite our father’s excellent abilities as a home cook.
A quality sandwich has several characteristics that make it good. First and foremost is excellent bread, and the best type of bread will vary with the fillings stuffed inside it. The filling – the main attraction – must be tasty and satisfying. And a sandwich must be moist enough for proper mouth feel, often the result of a flavorful spread – mayonnaise is the obvious choice, but maybe pesto or sun-dried tomato paste to dress it up. Of course additional accompaniments may add to a sandwich’s success, adding crunch, additional moisture, or a spark of flavor. Our meatloaf sandwiches had none of these traits, and I have been scarred for life. Suffice it to say I have never cooked meatloaf, despite my love of savory meatballs, and I cannot ever remember dining on meatloaf since my youth.
For years our father baked his own whole wheat bread. It was excellent sliced thick, toasted, with a slab of butter served aside a salad or a steaming bowl of Julia Child’s Soup Au Pistou. But it was not so great bracketing a filling to make a sandwich. You couldn’t really slice his loaves into proper sandwich thickness, and shoved in your school backpack in a paper bag, it would crumble into a million pieces long before lunchtime.
As for the meatloaf itself, I don’t recall eating it for dinner, but maybe it was perfectly fine. Our father (admirably) had enough forethought to plan ahead and make extra for lunches, but the execution was lacking. Cold meatloaf is dry. These specimens were exceedingly dry. And when you merge thick-cut slices of crumbly homemade whole wheat bread with thick slabs of dry meatloaf, it becomes a problem. On top of this, our father never applied a moistening agent; not a smear of ketchup or mayo to be found; naked, with no additional accompaniments. Our meatloaf sandwiches were about as dry as eating a sandbox for lunch. I don’t recall any specific comments from or incidents with my peers, but these sandwiches, wrapped in a wax paper sheath for protection, were about as embarrassing as dumping a brown paper bag of beach sand out onto the cafeteria table.
Of course I survived this minor trauma of my youth and make better sandwiches now. I would probably like a proper meatloaf sandwich if it met the required sandwich criteria. But that’s not what I ate growing up.
Of late, I have been obsessed with an excellent sandwich: breaded chicken cutlet, with broccoli rabe, melted provolone cheese, and hot pickled peppers on a ciabatta roll. The bread is excellent; crusty and substantial on the outside, chewy within, with enough structure to hold up to the filling. The chicken cutlet itself is crunchy and delicious, perfect topped with sharp, melted provolone. Garlicky broccoli rabe sautéed in olive oil provides moisture, and hot pickled peppers finish it off; spicy enough to complement the slightly bitter broccoli rabe and provolone, with an acidic edge to cut the richness. It makes for an excellent midday meal, meeting all the necessary sandwich criteria, and one I’d be proud to have my children take for their school lunch.
Breaded Chicken Cutlet, Broccoli Rabe, Melted Provolone, and Hot Pickled Peppers on Ciabatta
Breaded chicken cutlets are always great, but on this sandwich, they are something special. It is important that the broccoli rabe not be overcooked, lest it becomes soggy. As for the cheese, I prefer slices of sharp provolone. My favorite peppers for this sandwich are pickled Hungarian hot peppers or hot banana peppers, but sliced spicy cherry peppers would do in a pinch. As for the bread, the ciabatta roll should be warm and lightly toasted for maximum effect. A Kaiser roll will do if ciabatta is not available.
makes 2 sandwiches, about a half hour
½ bunch broccoli rabe
1 Tbsp. plus ¼ tsp. kosher salt, divided, more to taste
1½ Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
¼ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
¼ tsp. fresh ground black pepper
2 ciabatta rolls
4 deli slices sharp provolone cheese
4 oz. sliced pickled peppers (Hungarian hot, banana, or hot cherry), drained, or more to taste
- Prepare the breaded chicken cutlets or re-heat already cooked ones on a wire rack in a warm oven.
- Prepare the broccoli rabe. Trim and discard thick stems. Separate remaining stems, leaves, and florets to cook separately. Cut stems into ¼ to ½-inch long pieces. Cut leaves into ½-inch thick strips. Bring a 5-quart pot of water to a boil and add 1 tablespoon of salt. Add the stems and cook for about 1 minute. Add the leaves and florets and cook an additional minute. The broccoli rabe should be bright green and just barely cooked. Remove from water with a slotted spoon, spider, or by pouring through a strainer. Rinse in cold water to stop the cooking. When cool enough to handle, gently squeeze out as much water as possible. Heat olive oil in a heavy 10- or 12-inch skillet over medium heat. Add garlic. Cook stirring and pressing until it just takes on a bit of color. Swirl the crushed red pepper flakes in the oil, add reserved broccoli rabe, and stir to combine. Add remaining salt and pepper and cook until just warmed through, but not overcooked, about 1 to 2 minutes. Taste, adjust seasonings, and set aside.
- Slice ciabatta and toast lightly.
- Place 2 slices of provolone on each chicken cutlet and heat in a warm oven or toaster oven until cheese just starts to melt.
- Assemble the sandwich. Place chicken cutlets on bottom half of each roll, cheese side up. Top with warm broccoli rabe, adding slices of cooked garlic or not, depending on your preference. Cover with spicy pickled peppers and top of roll. Slice and enjoy.
Max,
I never realized how you were tortured as a child. How fortunate for all of us that somehow your pain inspired you to become such a thoughtful creative cook .
I must admit I always loved meat loaf but it’s been over 40 years that I’ve eaten meat or chicke at all. My mom made a great meat loaf!
Much love,
Paula
ps love your blog
Hi Paula – Yes, definitely tortured. My parents were cruel. The way we three boys suffered. Thanks for reading!!
Max
Your favorite sandwich sounds delicious but I would be embarrassed to eat it in a school lunchroom because much of the filling would probably fall out on the table. It’s a sandwich that I would enjoy by myself or with one other trusted friend.
You are not wrong. While it is a tasty sandwich, it’s not in the neat and tidy category!
Max. Almost everything you say here about those meatloaf sandwiches is true and horrifying. But in dad‘s defense, there was a small smear of ketchup on the bread. Perhaps by lunchtime it was absorbed by the dry meatloaf in the dry bread to such a degree that it was unidentifiable. 🙂
Lee – I do not recall the smear of ketchup. Perhaps, as you say, it was there, just absorbed by the parched bread and meatloaf, much like a dry sponge in the desert absorbs water. Maybe Dad deserves a wee bit of credit, but certainly not too much. (At least for this sandwich. He deserves plenty of credit for other recipes!!)