The history of how this blog got started
A few years ago at work, two friends and I started a sandwich club, called Club Sandwich. I work in tech, so our office came with certain perks. One of those perks was that we got supermarket deliveries to the office every week to stock the pantry and fridges with staples, so people could make snacks for themselves during work. The point of Club Sandwich was to hijack the delivery order, so that we could get good sandwich ingredients and make toasted sandwiches over lunch (and save on eating out).
Club Sandwich quickly grew. Within a month, my friends and I (operating as the Toastmasters of the Supreme Sandwich Council), decided to begin holding special make-your-own sandwich lunches for the whole office. People began posting pictures of their sandwiches from home in the work group. Club Sandwich was open to everyone, and it was a good time to be a sandwich lover. Unfortunately, being open to everyone means that youâre open to conflicting ideologiesâŚ
In July of 2019, a simple and reasonably innocuous question was asked by a regular attendee of our lunches - âCan we post burgers in this group?â
Now, I like a burger as much as the next guy. In fact, theyâre probably my favourite food besides sandwiches. But, as sandwich enthusiasts, we three Toastmasters instinctively knew that burgers were out of the question for Club Sandwich, and made a rule that burgers were not allowed. However, that question caused people to begin questioning what it meant to be a sandwich, and a few particularly contrarian software developers began stirring up some shit and asking even more ridiculous questions, like âcan we post hot dogs?â or âcan we post tacos?â. The resulting chaos threw the society into turmoil. The worst part? They were right.
Every dictionary definition I could find defined a sandwich like this:
Filling in between two pieces of bread or a split roll; OR filling on top of a single piece of bread, as in an open-faced sandwich; OR something resembling a sandwich
Operating under that definition, almost any food that involves bread is a sandwich! Under this definition, burgers, hot dogs, avocado on toast, even DIP can be a sandwich. Not to mention the âanything resembling a sandwichâ part! How can it be that all of these things are sandwiches, and yet no one thinks of them as sandwiches?
A few days later, I made the following post in the group:
Where does a burger end and a sandwich begin? The differentiation comes with the meal's conception. If the meal is intended as a burger, then it is a burger. If it was made as a sandwich, then it is a sandwich.
Labels exist for us to conveniently associate with concepts; without them our world would grid to a halt. It's these labels which we use to create mental models of a meal and our expectations of that meal.
Labels cause differences in perception and, by extension, reality. Naming something a burger comes with other conceptual baggage that a sandwich does not. Bread, patty, lettuce, cheese; these are all nought in the face of a name.
A sandwich is a sandwich is a sandwich. Further discussion is encouraged, but variations on the argument "It's just fillings in bread, what's the difference?" will be met with swift and savage ridicule.
Thank you.
This seemed to stabilise the discourse, for the time being. Of course, the discourse never completely stopped, but I was glad to have a resolution to the problem.
Yet⌠I didnât feel satisfied with my argument. The intent of a meal alone isnât enough to give it a concrete label - I canât say âIâm going to make a burgerâ and then make chilli con carne and assert that itâs a burger just because I called it that from the beginning. It seemed like a good starting point, but it didnât sit right with me.
I was given the opportunity to refine my argument some months later, when a friend from outside of work invited me to a âpowerpoint partyâ. Everyone needed to come up with a presentation and deliver it in front of everyone else, while getting smashed on punch. I, of course, made my presentation about the difference between a burger and a sandwich. I evolved my argument into three points:
Technically a burger is a sandwich, but itâs not useful to use the word sandwich to refer to it.
It is not useful because âsandwichâ is a higher level category than âburgerâ and if you refer to something using a category thatâs too high level, you donât get your meaning across. For example, if a child showed you a picture of a firefighter and asked what it was, you wouldnât say âthis is a mammalâ.
You donât get your meaning across because a burger is âtoo strong of an ideaâ to be a sandwich.
To be honest, I didnât word it as simply as this, because I still didnât quite understand what my point was. I didnât like how wishy-washy the phrase âtoo strong of an ideaâ sounded. I felt better about my argument, but I still wasnât completely satisfied.
As the years went on, I never stopped thinking about this question:
âWhy should burgers not be allowed in Club Sandwich?â
Which turned into a more difficult question over time:
âWhy are burgers not considered sandwiches in day to day life, even though they technically are sandwiches?â
I realised at a certain point that no amount of Wikipedia trawling and pondering was going to get me any further. Iâd hit the limit of where my brain alone would take me. To get a real answer to the questions that plagued me for so long, I realised I would need to do some real learning. I would need to study semiotics.