conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled Sandwiches about Healthy, Mrs, Cooking with the genre: Cookbooks, Food & Wine.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mrs. the author is India s best - selling cookery author since over 2 decades. She has written a total of 100titles, several of which have been translated in various languages like Hindi, Gujarati, Marathi, Bengali and even Dutch and Russian! The total sales of her cookery books exceed 3million copies. Her first book The Pleasures of Vegetarian Cooking , which was published in 1974, was an instant success with indian housewives. The book, which is considered a classic in cookery books, has sold a record 1,50,000 copies. Lately there has been a new addition to the list called the TOTAL HEALTH SERIES. These are health related cookbooks with recipes and information on various subjects like The Pregnancy Cookbook, Baby and Toddler food, Delicious Diabetic Recipes, Fast foods made Healthy, Healthy Breakfast, Healthy Soups and Salads, Cooking with 1 Teaspoon of Oil, Healthy Soups and Salads, Healthy Breakfast and Calcium Rich Recipes has been her best selling book recently. In addition to writing cookbooks, Mrs. the author also has a major web presence in the form of tarladalal.com, the largest Indian food site.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sandwiches
  My obsession began at a young age when I would construct ideal, dream sandwiches in my sleep, only to wake up grasping at the air above me pointlessly, trying to reach out and touch my tasty creations. The fanaticism continued into teenage years as I entered a phase of building absolute monsters (very much à la Dagwood on page 105), using whatever my unwitting parents thought they had safely stashed in their refrigerator. It all went in: cold cuts, cheeses, garnishes, relishes, mayo, scallions (spring onions), pickled onions, anything. Nothing was safe. This, of course, led to some major disasters, but it was an important sandwich learning curve and laid the foundations for a lifelong love.
  I think it's important we start by laying down some ground rules for when it comes to making, buying, eating, and defining sandwiches, starting with the absolute basics.
  So what exactly is a sandwich? At first, this question may seem ridiculous, but actually I've encountered strong opinions about what does and what does not constitute one. Obviously, a filling between two slices of bread is a sandwich. What about a burger though? Or a wrap? And let's not even get started on the "open-faced sandwich." Okay let's. This, in my mind, does not really qualify. If it did, then surely we could call everything on toast a sandwich? Beans on toast would be a sandwich, as would mushrooms on toast, spaghetti on toast... well just about anything on toast, basically. Or is it the toasting of the bread that disqualifies "stuff on toast" from the sandwich category? Perhaps only untoasted bread can make an open-faced sandwich. Everything else I'm prepared to let in to the sandwich fold. Wraps, kebabs, burgers, even hot dogs; as long as they involve a filling wrapped, clamped, or, indeed, sandwiched, in some sort of bread.
  There are some basic rules one must adhere to when making a sandwich, and yet there are some sandwiches that break them all. Let's take a simple ham and tomato filling as an example. Every sandwich should be constructed with proper care, attention, and love. The bread must be fresh and of good quality; there is a time and a place for cheap "plasticy" bread, but it is rare and should be kept that way. In the case of the ham and tomato, I'd go with a very fresh farmhouse white. Then there's the butter, which must be at room temperature and therefore spreadable; there is nothing (nothing) more rage-inducing than tearing a hole in the bread because the butter is too hard. The quality of the fillings is obviously of paramount importance; the ham must be proper cooked ham, thickly sliced off the bone (none of that shiny, "reformed" rubbish), and the tomato must be perfectly ripe and fragrant. If lettuce is to be added, then this should be used as a barrier betwixt bread and tomato; the structural integrity of the sandwich must always be preserved, and that means avoiding placing tomato next to bread if at all possible. One runs the risk of inducing sogginess as tomato juice slowly soaks into the bread; it is one of the most unpleasant and unfortunate events in the sandwich world. If there is no lettuce or the sandwich contains just tomato, then consumption must be immediate. And what about cutting? In half? Into quarters? Fingers? Triangles or squares? Crusts on or off? All these questions before we've even considered different types of bread.
  It's not just excess that defines a sandwich as outrageous however; what about the issue of "double carbs"? I'm talking sandwiches like the Chip Butty (page 31) or the Vada Pav (page 22). It's hard to believe, but some people are genuinely against the idea of double-carbing, believing it to be in some way "wrong." This is nonsense. Are they suggesting we forgo the pleasure of freshly salted and vinegared chips, hot and crisp, layered onto thick white bread and smothered with brown sauce, steak sauce, or ketchup? Are we to deny a filling a place in a sandwich simply because it doesn't fall into the category of vegetable or protein? My point is that exclusivity in the sandwich world should not be tolerated, which reminds me to mention my disdain for the habit of creating the "world's most expensive sandwiches"; part of the appeal of the sandwich is that it is a foodstuff accessible to all. I firmly believe it should remain so.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sandwiches
  My obsession began at a young age when I would construct ideal, dream sandwiches in my sleep, only to wake up grasping at the air above me pointlessly, trying to reach out and touch my tasty creations. The fanaticism continued into teenage years as I entered a phase of building absolute monsters (very much à la Dagwood on page 105), using whatever my unwitting parents thought they had safely stashed in their refrigerator. It all went in: cold cuts, cheeses, garnishes, relishes, mayo, scallions (spring onions), pickled onions, anything. Nothing was safe. This, of course, led to some major disasters, but it was an important sandwich learning curve and laid the foundations for a lifelong love.
  I think it's important we start by laying down some ground rules for when it comes to making, buying, eating, and defining sandwiches, starting with the absolute basics.
  So what exactly is a sandwich? At first, this question may seem ridiculous, but actually I've encountered strong opinions about what does and what does not constitute one. Obviously, a filling between two slices of bread is a sandwich. What about a burger though? Or a wrap? And let's not even get started on the "open-faced sandwich." Okay let's. This, in my mind, does not really qualify. If it did, then surely we could call everything on toast a sandwich? Beans on toast would be a sandwich, as would mushrooms on toast, spaghetti on toast... well just about anything on toast, basically. Or is it the toasting of the bread that disqualifies "stuff on toast" from the sandwich category? Perhaps only untoasted bread can make an open-faced sandwich. Everything else I'm prepared to let in to the sandwich fold. Wraps, kebabs, burgers, even hot dogs; as long as they involve a filling wrapped, clamped, or, indeed, sandwiched, in some sort of bread.
  There are some basic rules one must adhere to when making a sandwich, and yet there are some sandwiches that break them all. Let's take a simple ham and tomato filling as an example. Every sandwich should be constructed with proper care, attention, and love. The bread must be fresh and of good quality; there is a time and a place for cheap "plasticy" bread, but it is rare and should be kept that way. In the case of the ham and tomato, I'd go with a very fresh farmhouse white. Then there's the butter, which must be at room temperature and therefore spreadable; there is nothing (nothing) more rage-inducing than tearing a hole in the bread because the butter is too hard. The quality of the fillings is obviously of paramount importance; the ham must be proper cooked ham, thickly sliced off the bone (none of that shiny, "reformed" rubbish), and the tomato must be perfectly ripe and fragrant. If lettuce is to be added, then this should be used as a barrier betwixt bread and tomato; the structural integrity of the sandwich must always be preserved, and that means avoiding placing tomato next to bread if at all possible. One runs the risk of inducing sogginess as tomato juice slowly soaks into the bread; it is one of the most unpleasant and unfortunate events in the sandwich world. If there is no lettuce or the sandwich contains just tomato, then consumption must be immediate. And what about cutting? In half? Into quarters? Fingers? Triangles or squares? Crusts on or off? All these questions before we've even considered different types of bread.
  It's not just excess that defines a sandwich as outrageous however; what about the issue of "double carbs"? I'm talking sandwiches like the Chip Butty (page 31) or the Vada Pav (page 22). It's hard to believe, but some people are genuinely against the idea of double-carbing, believing it to be in some way "wrong." This is nonsense. Are they suggesting we forgo the pleasure of freshly salted and vinegared chips, hot and crisp, layered onto thick white bread and smothered with brown sauce, steak sauce, or ketchup? Are we to deny a filling a place in a sandwich simply because it doesn't fall into the category of vegetable or protein? My point is that exclusivity in the sandwich world should not be tolerated, which reminds me to mention my disdain for the habit of creating the "world's most expensive sandwiches"; part of the appeal of the sandwich is that it is a foodstuff accessible to all.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.. Start with the sentence 'Make the sauce by putting the chilies and all the other ingredients, except the salt, into a blender, then whizz together until smooth'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Make the sauce by putting the chilies and all the other ingredients, except the salt, into a blender, then whizz together until smooth. Add scant 1/3 cup (80ml) water, plus some salt, and blend again. Pour the sauce into a small saucepan and heat gently until warm.
  Reheat the pork until hot, then split the roll and stuff the pork inside. Add some sliced onion. Pour some of the warm sauce all over the sandwich, garnish with a few more onion slices, and serve immediately.
  The roti john is part of that marvelous group of sandwiches that requires the cook to scoop out some of the crumb to make way for more filling. It is essentially an omelet or scrambled egg sandwich, which is eaten in Singapore and Malaysia as a breakfast item but also generally as a snack.
  Ground meat, eggs, and onions are mixed with chilies and curry powder, then smeared onto the halved roll before a deft hand flips the whole thing upside-down into a frying pan, rendering the eggy surface a gorgeous golden crust. The resulting roll halves (or lengths of baguette) can be eaten as they are or sandwiched on top of one another. Guess which method I favor...
  Gently soften the onion in a little vegetable oil in a frying pan, then add the lamb, garlic, chilies, and curry powder. Cook, stirring, until the meat is browned and cooked through. Set the meat mixture aside in a bowl, leaving the frying pan on the heat. Add salt and pepper to the meat mixture, then stir in the eggs.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.. End with the sentence '
  Drain on paper towels, then dust the hot sandwich with confectioners' (icing) sugar and serve with some blackberry jelly (jam).'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Spread 1 slice of bread with butter, if you like. Sprinkle the sugar onto the buttered bread as liberally as desired. Sandwich together with the second slice of bread and eat.
  Take 1 slice of bread and butter it. Top with a slice of ham, a slice of chicken, and, finally, a slice of cheese. Butter a second slice of bread and add it to the sandwich, followed by the other slices of ham, chicken, and cheese. Butter the remaining slice of bread and use it to top the sandwich.
  In a wide bowl, beat together the eggs with a good splash of milk. Melt some butter in a frying pan or skillet over a medium-high heat. Dip the sandwich into the egg mixture, coating both sides, then cook the sandwich in the frying pan until golden and crisp on both sides, turning once.
  Drain on paper towels, then dust the hot sandwich with confectioners' (icing) sugar and serve with some blackberry jelly (jam).