Sacred Sandwich

Sparing you the details, I was having a conversation with a coworker where sandwiches were mentioned. This is what I ended up writing:

All I can tell you is that my salami would hand picked from a field of cows and pigs. This marriage of beef and pork, like so many salamis before them, would be based on the actual relationship between the cow and pig. Their names, Matilda and Godfrey. Their passing would be peaceful, side by side with  hooves interlocked. Of course such a noble sacrifice demands pause for grace, giving thanks for the sustenance this sacred union shall provide. Once the salamization of these hallowed creatures was completed, uniformly sliced pieces would be rested on a bed of fresh picked baby spinach. Next, blanketed by havarti cheese which was cultured from the very same Matilda. All of this held together by the firm embrace of a baguette, kneaded by the fair hands of the baker's aspiring apprentice daughter. Its crust, flaky and crunchy, perfectly balanced by the gentle fluffiness of its crumb. Finally, each slice would be smothered together in dill and chive freckled sour cream to bond all ingredients into perfect harmony.

My lunch of packaged split pea and ham soup is suddenly feeling beneath me.