Over the counter
Nighthawks, 1942, by Edward Hopper, The Art Institute of Chicago, US
Yes, I know, I know, Edward Hopper’s master-piece is all about the gaping loneliness at the heart of the Big City American dream. Or something like that. Yet, I’ve always found it not only haunting, but rather glamorous, too. The three customers in this eternally bright diner may be wistfully lingering over coffee, but I like to think they’ve eaten. Eggs over easy, meatloaf or, best of all, a proper American grilled-cheese sandwich. You could, of course, use proper cheddar, or Ogleshield, with a few slices of raw onion. But for a true taste of America, it has to be soft, cheap white bread and neon-hued slices of that magnificent, plasticky American ‘cheese’. This recipe comes…