This is a huge, “Dagwood”-size version of a ham-and-cheese grilled sandwich (zapatilla is the Spanish word for sneaker, as in the shoe, and these are like the size of a clunky sneaker.) I’m offering this just for its novelty. If you google it, you’ll find that it is seemingly served in only one place on earth: Melo’s, in the Lavapiés neighborhood of Madrid. I hunted and could find only one copycat recipe for this, in Spanish, so I translated, filled in many blanks, and tried it myself.
Hand-slice two slices from the biggest loaf of bread you can get your hands on. The slices should be at least about 6” in length and 3” or 4” wide, and about 1/2″ to 1″ thick. If your bakery happens to sell big, round, crusty French or Italian loaves, use that. The Spanish have them too, obviously, but I’ve never seen a loaf like this in my local supermarkets advertised as Spanish.
Butter one side of each of the two slices and fry butter side down in a saucepan until they’re browned and crispy. Remove to a plate, toasty buttered side up. Add enough slices of cooked smoked pork shoulder to make a thick layer for the sandwich to the skillet and fry that, so it warms through. Butter the other sides of the bread and put them back in the skillet, newly buttered sides down, toasty side up. On one, layer on the pork. Then add a layer of sliced tetilla cheese. This is a Galician cheese and even in Spain hard to get outside the region (Melo’s in Madrid is a Galician restaurant, not Castilian) so I substituted another rich and creamy cheese, the ubiquitous brie. Cover with the other slice, crispy side down. Over low heat fry for 2 or 3 minutes, then carefully flip and do the other side for 2 or 3 minutes.
This one sandwich can easily feed two, maybe three. I just made it for me, Better Half, and The Ravenous Beast, but I can see slicing a couple of these up and serving them as appetizers or at parties. They need to be eaten warm, though.
Spain just knows how to eat. Wow.
They do, but in all honesty this is like a novelty sandwich. I can’t really think of an equivalent, but imagine if New York had a restaurant that was famous for its 22-oz. cheeseburger. Oh wait, I think most fast-casual American chains already have this.
I made a grilled sandwich with cheddar and Romano, mayo rather than butter, on thick-sliced cranberry pecan bread for dinner with veggie soup. The mix of sweet and savory was yummy. This feels similar!
Did you say cranberry-pecan bread…? You probably don’t remember this, but one of my first run-ins with Deadsplinter was about two years ago, I think, and you mentioned cranberry-pecan bread, or something like it, and someone had strong opinions against.
I dislike mayo so much. Everything about it grosses me out and I don’t even keep it in the house.
HOWEVER it is superior to butter for any grilled cheese sandwich, I will 100% give it that.
I’m not a food chemist by any means but I bet the difference is in the egg yolks in the mayo. I bet it’s like the difference between eating a buttered slice of toast and an unadorned piece of French toast.
Fwiw, it also makes a helluva good Garlic Bread/Garlic Loaf!
And it’s super easy, if you use the jarred stuff!
You just drop a large “blop” of mayo in a bowl, add as much garlic (and garlic juice) as you like–it should be *spreadable but not runny,* then spread the mixture on either slices of bread, or on the inside of a halved loaf of French/Italian bread, then sprinle a layer of shredded parmesan (or your favorite *other* cheeses!) over the spread.
If you put it on individual slices, spread those out on a cookie sheet, and bake until your desired level of golden.
If it’s on the loaf, wrap the loaf in foil & bake for 15-20, check it for “doneness” (broil it without the foil, if desired to add some color), and slice it into chunks.
@brightersideoflife I have the exact opposite opinion! I like mayo, but I absolutely cannot with hot mayo. I’ve tried it for grilled cheeses and it does brown up beautifully and evenly, but it still tastes like hot mayo. And I miss the butter taste.