My nostalgic grub: ham and cucumber sandwich

When I was growing up, sandwich was a piece of bread with butter and a slice of sausage. While my peers gleefully munched on theirs, I was always appalled at such lowliness and lack of finesse. I always knew there is more to sandwiches than slabs of unadulterated cholesterol and meat of dubious provenance stuffed in pig's intestines. But I seemed to be the only one around with that opinion.

Paper-thin salty ham and fresh-smelling cucumber slices on earthy rye bread washed down with powerfully aromatic espresso in a café at the Vilnius Railway Station - this is my strongest memory of my first parents-free vacation at 15. These days I know more far-fetched ways to fancify a peace of bread but I still keep trying to recreate that feeling of a newly found freedom in a vaguely foreign city. I just use better ingredients.

Swedish knäckerbröd bread with sesame seeds, smoked Schwartzwälder ham, French mustard with unripe black peppers and - it's never the same without them - slices of cucumber and three umlauts!