Crisp sandwiches

The standard, boring sandwich found in an average school packed lunch could be converted into a spectacularly crunchy culinary delight by the deceptively simple act of adding a layer of crisps between the bread and filling. I cannot remember a single instance of anyone not doing this at my infant/junior school.

I recently started doing this again after a break of around twenty years and am at a loss to understand why I ever stopped.

The pinnacle of this practice was:
SANDWICH: Ham & mustard on white bread.
WITH: Beef Monster Munch (sadly no longer with us).
DUNKED INTO: Chicken & Mushroom Pot Noodle.

Lloyd Grossman eats these. He told me.

-Imagine how Lloyd pronounces the word "monster". Brrr, horrible.

As well as adding crisps to the regular filling, try removing the regular filling and replacing that with a Mars Bar.
Not neccesarily the basis of a balanced diet, and not really that nice, either.

Five Doritos fit perfectly into half a medium sliced sandwich. Primary school maths taught me this is known as a 'tesselation', a word I have never needed to use until this moment.

The Champion's crisp sandwich is, however, a complex beast. Each layer of the sandwich requires a different flavour of crisp and a different sauce. My personal best was seven layers, presumably not long after my mum had returned from shopping.