Some subjects are deeply personal. Emotions run wild. Opinions are plentiful and when long-held sentiments are on opposite ends of the spectrum, loaded words fly and attitudes can get downright nasty.

So…right from the onset, I’m asking you to make your opinions known but keep it civil. When expressing your own personal point-of-view on this subject, remember that young impressionable minds are easily influenced. And if your opinion is wrong, I will let you know in a nice way, as in “Bless your heart.”

I am in search of the perfect sandwich.

My research began in the cab of Marion’s truck just a few days ago as we were riding home discussing what we might have for lunch. She offered up some of the options in the fridge that might make for a good sandwich. This led to a full-blown, round-house debate on which sandwich is the all-time best sandwich ever to adorn a paper plate at the kitchen table.

“You know what I miss,” she said. “Mamasan (Marion’s mama was from Japan) used to make the best cream cheese and olive sandwich. I need to mix some up when we get home.”

Okay. I know what I said about keeping things civil, but really? This is the vote she wants to bring to the table? Cream cheese is for cheesecakes, party dips, and chicken casseroles. Mixing it with olives does not a sandwich make.

Then she threw out a cucumber sandwich. Oh, Lawd! I’m beginning to wonder if she even understands the concept of what makes a sandwich great.

Let’s just go down the list.

I’ll start with the trusty PBJ. It’s hard to get more basic and more nostalgic than this. This is the sandwich that we all start with by the time we have enough teeth to chew our food. Thick, creamy peanut butter. I prefer Jif. Peter Pan runs a close second. Sometimes the crunchy version is desirable.

It really doesn’t matter what “jelly” you use. Blackberry, Strawberry, and Plum jams are the best. If you’re tough, and my mama tried to make me tough, you could try Fig preserves. You need sharp teeth that meet in the middle with no overbite to cut through the figs, otherwise you end up with fig ooze on your chin.

The PBJ is the staple of every school lunch box or brown paper sack. A PBJ has trade-up value. If you play your cards right, you can get up to three chicken nuggets and an ice cream cup for the right PBJ.

Next, and close to my heart, is the peanut butter and banana sandwich. Elvis gets a lot of publicity for this one, but he doesn’t get the credit. I was eating this sandwich long before I had any idea that he ate them. I lather up one side of the bread with Miracle Whip. The other side with creamy Jif. And I like to cut my banana into little round disks. Some folks slice the banana long-ways. The taste buds don’t care how you slice it.

Since I mentioned it, and since the sandwich spread is a key ingredient in my search for the perfect sandwich, I must say that most of you are just wrong. Miracle Whip is what my mama used, and this is what I’ll use until the day I die. I’ll eat a sandwich with mayonnaise and not complain. It’s not bad, but it’s not great.

The commercial is absolutely correct. It’s just not a sandwich without Miracle Whip. The only reason Kraft makes mayo is to appease the confused masses. And as for you Hellman’s, Bama, and Duke’s lovers, you have my prayers. And Blue Plate, I wouldn’t use Blue Plate to grease a toilet seal.

The signature sandwich of my entire life is the basic ham and cheese. My list of great sandwiches wouldn’t be complete without it. The ingredients are available year round. Honey baked or black forest ham is better than the cheap imitations. Without any doubt, I have eaten more ham and cheese sandwiches than any other sandwich ever made. I carried one in my lunch box to school and to work for the better part of the last 65 years.

But my honest opinion is this. It’s not the best sandwich. It’s just easy to make, quick on the go, and satisfies the hunger.

There are a lot of simple sandwiches that are really good. For example, pimento cheese. When I was a kid, pimento cheese sandwiches always showed up at church fellowship meals. The crust trimmed off. Cut into little triangles. They fit perfectly on a kids plate right between the fried chicken leg and the slab of watermelon. I would have so many on my plate that Mama would make me put a few back.

The list goes on. Chicken salad, tuna salad, and egg salad. There’s turkey, roast beef, corned beef, and bologna. The first time I ever had a fried bologna sandwich, I was hanging out with Blake Yates at their cabin on Jackson Lake. His mama threw a few slices of bologna in a frying pan, sliced it up like a pinwheel to keep it from curling, and gave us each a sandwich. It was love at first bite.

My sandwich tastes are a little more sophisticated these days. The deli sandwich industry has broadened my horizons beyond just ham and cheese. I love a good Philly Steak & Cheese, dripping with cooked onions, green peppers, and ranch dressing. Or a hot roast beef au jus. The dip and bite technique adds to the experience.

I recently sat down in a restaurant and saw a hot open-faced roast beef sandwich with gravy on the menu. It was the easiest choice I made all week.

The condiments are endless, too. Balsamic vinaigrette. Blue cheese crumbles. Sweet peppers. Jalapeños. Black olives. Goat cheese. Gouda cheese. Brown mustard. Spicy mustard. Honey mustard. Chipotle. Hummus. The modern sandwich has never been more customizable.

But when I’m in search of the perfect sandwich, I tend to get back to the basics. I want something simple. I want to be able to make it at home without having to check the pantry to see if I have all the fancy ingredients.

I thought about the tomato sandwich. It’s hard to beat a good, ripe tomato sandwich in June when the garden finally surrenders its first plump tomatoes. But love it as much as I do, this is not my choice.

The conversation in the truck finally got past the cucumber sandwich idea. It was quiet for a while, then Marion spoke up.

“We’ve got plenty of bacon from breakfast this morning. How about a BLT for lunch?”

In that moment, it was like the stars fell from heaven and angelic voices spoke to my soul. Of course, this is the perfect sandwich. No one with half a brain would argue against bacon. It’s the best use of lettuce ever invented other than a good salad. And it includes the magnificence of the juicy tomato.

“You want a dill pickle with yours?” she asked me.

Talk about ruining a good sandwich.

“No thanks. Just pass me the Miracle Whip.”