I was caught in the middle of a chick flick… when suddenly, out of nowhere a Croque Monsieur appeared! Oh it looked good and I decided then and there that I must have it. I checked online for a few recipes to get a baseline for the endeavor and found that there are several variations. Many cheap out on the bechamel and do more of a Monte Cristo style of sandwich – basically french toasting it by battering the bread or the whole sandwich in an egg and or milk wash and griddling it. I couldn’t do that. Bechamel is too easy to cheap out on. Besides it’s the easiest of the mother sauces, and that’s coming from someone that breaks most of his sauces.
For those of you who do not know, a Croque Monsieur is basically a fancy pants ham and cheese sandwich, covered in cheesy white sauce, and baked. I don’t like ham and cheese sandwiches, but this is different. This sandwich is awesome.
We procured some country-style french bread and some farm fresh milk from the farmers market, some cave-aged Gruyère, and thinly sliced ham from the grocery store, and made a date. Sunday night was the night. We sliced the bread by hand, and toasted it in the oven. Dijon was spread on each slice, and then the slices were topped alternatively with the ham and shredded Gruyère. Assembly took place, the sandwiches placed on a baking sheet, and there they were made into Croque Monsieur. Gruyère and parmesan laced Bechamel with a bare sprinkling of cayenne, was poured over the top of the sandwich. Why stop there? More Gruyère and a kiss of parm were shredded and put on top. The little tease of a sandwich was then put into an oven and baked, and then broiled.
Yes, it was awesome… and yes, you needed utensils.
Discussion was had regarding what would pair well. Afterall, we had moderately smelly Gruyère, and the ham. There were several options that were thrown around, but in the end we settled for a Sauvignon Blanc. I was looking for something French to connect a bit more to both the cheese and ham, but I’d had most of what the liquor store had available, and didn’t want to pay $30 for a bottle. We reluctantly strolled over to the American section and I found an old friend for a decent enough price. Duckhorn’s second label, Decoy. Decoy’s Sauvignon Blanc is deliciously refreshing and crisp. And it had what I needed to cut through the fat in the sandwich – acid. It wasn’t so much of a huge tropical fruit bomb that comes out of a lot of Napa Sauv Blancs, but it did have some melon, grass, and citrus. What I appreciated was a little salinity and good minerality, which worked quite well with the ham. Good stuff.
This is definitely something that we will do again. Though, I think I will do something different next time. I think I’ll do it casserole style. You know, a little sauce in the bottom of a buttered dish, sandwiches filling it up, and covered with more sauce and cheese. Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.
Droolingly yours,
~ the Hungry Wino
. "Mildred: Whatll you folks have today? Professor Hubert Farnsworth: Ill have some Soylent Green, with a slice of Soylent Orange and some Soylent coleslaw. Mildred: Huh? Leela: [whispering] Its the 20th century, Professor. Professor Hubert Farnsworth: Oh, right. Ill have a croque monsieur, the paella, two mutton pills, and a stein of mead. Leela: Ill just have a small injection of Fem-a-slim. Mildred: Uh, two chili dogs comin right up." ~ Scene from Futurama, the Movie



















