I’m a lifelong sucker for grilled cheese sandwiches, but they have to be slim and tidy. A thin slice of mozzarrella and cheese on buttered toasted rye…yes! So it doesn’t make sense that I would order a sloppy, overstuffed grilled cheese sandwich with all kinds of sauce and chopped tomato and melted gag-all spilling all over the place when you bite into it, but that’s what happened yesterday when I popped into the Meltwich on Richmond.

A woman sitting nearby was staring at me as I struggled with all the gooey crap spilling out of the sandwich as I took my first couple of bites. I could tell from her expression that she despised my lack of couth and table manners. “Hey, lady…you try eating one of these damn things and see how well you do…you can’t, trust me, without looking like some kind of greasy drooling pig.”

I will never again order an overstuffed grilled cheese sandwich. Yo, Meltwich? We’re done. Why would you make sandwiches that bring disrepute upon your customers? That compromise their dignity in front of strangers? Do you think it’s cool or sexy to have gooey globs of cheese and chopped tomatoes and whatnot falling onto your paper plate and your shirtfront and even the floor? I don’t want to even think about your grotesque concoctions from this point on.

Note: Meltwich on Richmond is directly opposite the Scotiabank plex, where most of the TIFF press screenings take place.