Don't Eat That, John! -- The French Toast Reuben Nutella Elvis Sandwich

Welcome to issue 1 of Don't Eat That, John!--Neatorama's new series of poorly-conceived culinary adventures. Today, I combined that classic New York City sandwich, the Reuben, with the South's own marvel, the Elvis. I also added Nutella to the mix because Nutella.

Some called me reckless. Well, audentes fortuna iuvat. Also, sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc.

My strategery was, in imitation of General Nathan Bedford Forrest, to divide the project in two and attack on both flanks. Like all good things in life, the first step was to cook bacon.

Then I made French toast: 2 slices of white bread for the Elvis and 2 slices of rye for the Reuben.

The Elvis portion, which constituted the center of the combined sandwich, consisted of:

  • 2 slices of white bread dipped in 3 eggs beaten with 1/4 cup of milk
  • 2 strips of bacon
  • 1 ounce of sliced banana
  • 1/4 cup of Nutella
  • 1/4 cup of creamy peanut butter

The Reuben sections, which embraced the Elvis portion like the wings of an angel escorting the King of Rock and Roll to Heaven, consisted of:

  • 2 slices of rye bread dipped in the above mentioned French toast mix
  • 4 slices of corned beef, each 1/4 of an inch thick
  • 1 tablespoon of Thousand Island salad dressing
  • 1/3 cup of sauerkraut
  • 2 slices of Swiss cheese

The assembly of the sandwich was a delicate, nerve-wracking process. But for your sake, dear readers, I pressed on...

...and delivered the sandwich to my guinea pig.

How did the French Toast Reuben Nutella Elvis Sandwich taste? Surprisingly edible! The combination of bacon and Nutella was excellent. Next time, though, I shall make it with pastrami instead of corned beef.

Readers, what culinary monstrosity should I make next?


I see I'm not the first to comment on the use of canned corned beef (which I personally think of as 'Kosher Spam'). But maybe I have a dysfunctional relationship with my super's deli counter or maybe it seemed essential to keep it dominantly junk-foody. If you ever make one for me, hold the peanut butter, I'm allergic (not as badly as some people, but it's why I discovered long Nutella before most mere mortals).
Still, as far as the whole glorious mess, you had me at "Rye French Toast".
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