This is how it all started- with a simple gift card from Williams Sonoma. Kind of an odd gift but a chance to splurge, and my long-awaited ticket to achieving panini perfection. All I had to do was get to the store, grab the happy little Panini press, and from there, I would be set to savor hot, crispy, buttery sandwiches from the comfort of my living room. But as life would have it, things never work out perfectly.
I had a very strategic lunchtime plan. That plan was for me to run home, grab the gift card, make a quick trip out to Williams Sonoma, and grab that shiny new Panini Press. Theoretically, it should have been the most straightforward of errands; however, Mother Nature had other plans. No sooner had I taken my first step out of the house than I discovered to my utmost dismay that a blizzard was indeed upon us; the quick trip was no longer quite so.
Snow was flying, fierce winds were howling, and visibility was just about nil; nevertheless, I pressed on, hoping to make it home, grab the card, and return to my workday without too much delay. But of course, it was not that simple. What should have been a 10-minute drive turned into 55 minutes of absolute torture over snow-covered roads. When I finally got back to the office, my hour was one with only faint memories. But of course, I reassured myself, later I would have a great panini to look forward to.
Scraping out of at long last, yet another mouldy attempt at the afternoon had been(purposefully) abandoned to sole efforts of getting back home, with the leftovers of a dream showering down over me-luscious, buttery, crispy sandwich ready to be devoured. I slipped into my boots, threw on a hoodie, and marched through a snowstorm to the mall seeking that darned elusive Panini Press, with an indulgent sense of having deserved it after all this weather.
Yet when I entered, finally at Williams Sonoma, the universe dealt another curveball. I pulled that door eagerly intending to just go inside and treat myself to my very own kitchen gadget. That is until I discovered that the door wouldn’t budge. I looked up, and there it was—a big sign on the door that read, “CLOSED for inventory.” Of course, right? A blizzard, a traffic nightmare, and now an unexpected store closure.
I shook my head in disbelief, telling myself that maybe this was just a test of my determination. After all, I was ready for this panini. So, I returned the very next day with the same bad weather determined to try again. The snow fell mercilessly, the roads were treacherous, and yet nothing would stop me.
And, once again arriving at the store, I was welcomed by a really nice salesperson and asked for the Panini Press. But upon hearing that I used to be there the day before only to find it closed, the salesperson gave such understanding nod. “Should have called! We are out,” almost sympathizing.
At that very moment, I could not determine for certain whether I should laugh or cry. I had fought snow, time, and exhaustion to hear these words. But I could hardly let that trouble me. It was a challenge, and I would not back down that easily. Three weeks elapsed before I was finally able to get my hands on that prized Panini Press, and let me tell you, every minute of it was worth the wait, the snowstorms, and all those setbacks. The first time I fired that thing up, it was nothing short of magic. I had the bread, the fillings, and of course, the butter. The anticipation made every step of preparation feel as if it were a rite, something to savor.
I buttered the bread, whisked in a layer of red pepper hummus for that luscious, spicy kick, layered in artichokes, turkey, and provolone cheese between the slices, pressed it all together, and put the lid down over the press. The sizzle that followed was the sound of perfection in the making.
A few minutes later, I lifted the lid to reveal a golden, crispy masterpiece waiting under it. It was a toast with a perfect, golden brown layer on top, oozing melted cheese, and tasted like a symphony of flavors on your palate. It was as good as what I had envisioned – a creamy zeal of cheese mingling with that buttery crunch, tangy hummus, all tying into a hearty turkey sandwich – felt indulgently comforting to eat.
This really should have been an amazing sandwich, with bacon. That put the wheels in motion for my next panini planning. That was just the beginning.
Here I was, indulging in golden sandwiches, my new favorite comfort food. The Panini Press is now a central appliance in my kitchen, where the possibilities for full creative expression are endless. Be it with experimenting with new fillings, adding extra layers of flavor, or just having a nice quick satisfying meal, I am addicted.
If anything, my story of the Panini Press has taught me to revel in the process: The waiting, the setbacks, and the sweet end reward. Sometimes the things worth having take a little extra work to get to, but when you finally do, it feels all the better.
To anyone considering their own purchase of a Panini Press, I would say: Do it! Those crispy, ooey-gooey delights are worth every second spent waiting on their creation. And if you’re anything like me, you would be thinking about a dozen combinations that would be so tempting to make: “This would be great with bacon.” Because, let’s face it, in the world of paninis, everything’s better with bacon.
Now that I’m able to cross that snowy, setback-studded path off my list, I’m going to enjoy every munch of kitchen fun this new addition can provide for me while hoping to share many such scrumptious recipes with you.
