I worked as a waitress in high school for a year, in a little hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon. I didn't like it, but it was a job and at that time I was lucky to get one - the local economy was so bad not even the fast food restaurants were hiring. The restaurant served unmemorable fare. One of their "signature" dishes was a version of a Monte Cristo Sandwich, which is a like a grilled ham and swiss cheese sandwich made with french toast, then dipped in some kind of sauce (the restaurant's version looked like beef broth - it looked so unappealing I never tried it). I'd forgotten all about the Monte Cristo until just the other day.
Megan has this strange love affair with salsa. She drinks it from a cup whenever she can. The spicier the better, and even when it's too spicy for her she'll take it down, taking deep breaths and making funny "ouch" faces inbetween slurps. She's been on such a serious salsa kick lately that I've been afraid that the lining of her stomach will get eaten away with acid. I've been trying to find ways to buffer the salsa (because she cries like her heart is broken when I tell her "no more salsa!") and then I remembered that Monte Cristo Sandwich.
So the other day I made her a grilled cheese sandwich and served it with a side of salsa. I showed her how to dip her sandwich into the salsa. It is now her favorite meal.