Sand-wow.

I have a confession to make: slap some food between two pieces of bread, throw it on a grill, and I'm a happy camper. I love grilled sandwiches. Grilled cheese, tuna melt, patty melt, reuben, every single form of panini. I love them all.

And yet, I only ever make grilled cheese.

Last night, I stepped outside my usual weeknight comfort zone and made pesto chicken panini. I wanted to take a picture of them, but whoops! We pretended to be starving children and ate them in the blink of an eye.

This sandwich was pretty much my garden's last hurrah. I had some basil that's seen better days, lettuce that's really too bitter for my taste, and a single perfectly ripe tomato. Oh, and some ciabatta rolls and a rotisserie chicken. I made pesto, but overestimated my capacity for garlic. So I took some mayonnaise (eeeew, I hate that stuff) and mixed it in with the pesto.

Clue #5,492 that I'm pregnant: I proceeded to chow down on pesto mayo and Tostitos.

Slathered it on the bread (both pieces!), put on some lettuce, shredded chicken, some shredded mozzerella I found in the cheese drawer, and the tomatoes. Then I smushed each sandwich with the palm of my hand, slammed it laid it lovingly down in a hot cast iron skillet, and covered it with a grill weight.

Oh my stars was that a delicious sandwich. I am going to make as much pesto as possible this weekend so that I can make this sandwich in the coming months.