That's how I ate my first Golden Gate Meat Company breakfast sandwich. It's not how I've eaten the 10 or so that have followed, once a week. These are a treat, not some on-the-go staple, and savoring one in the shadow of a Bay Bridge jumping with traffic is a serious morning pleasure.
Heading up the Embarcadero, I slip into the Ferry Building, sidle up to the Meat Company's counter (stall #13), and dole out five bucks (six if you're paying with a card) for a top-notch fistful of fresh egg, lightly applied but sharply memorable cheddar, and smoked applewood bacon.
Unlike the runny glop that often passes for a breakfast sandwich, these tastes blend: crisp, strong notes cohering into a chord of rich, warm tastiness. Sometimes there's a bit of drama with the bacon -- well-salted and thick as a Hot Wheels track. A careless bite can accidentally yank out a strip of it and ruin the excellent per-bite egg-to-meat-to-cheese-to-bread ratio. But, mostly, it's a steady pleasure, a good five minute nosh that reminds how the simple and the expedient can, in a foodie town like this, yield something exquisite.
(Also: No burps afterwards, which is rare for this kind of thing.)