Tramezzino with Tuna and Artichoke

The tramezzino is not a sandwich. Or rather, it is, but the word fails to capture what happens when soft white bread meets a generous filling in the bars of Venice. These triangular parcels are everywhere in the Veneto: stacked in glass cases, eaten standing at marble counters, washed down with prosecco or a spritz while the afternoon light falls across the canals.

Americans make sandwiches sturdy. They pile ingredients high and expect to grip them with two hands. Tramezzini are different. The bread is soft, almost pillowy. The crusts are always removed. The filling is generous but spreadable, never chunky. You eat one in three bites, then perhaps another.

Tuna and artichoke is among the most beloved combinations. The briny richness of good oil-packed tuna, the earthy tenderness of artichoke hearts, the binding smoothness of mayonnaise. What you keep out matters: no onion, no celery, no distracting crunch. The flavors speak clearly because there are only a few of them.