Thar’s Gold in Them Thar Sandwiches Fool’s Gold Loaf

makes 1 sandwich, and feeds 8–10

By Chef Rachel Bayes



Superior Outdoors


When I first consulted Grandpa Google about the “Elvis sandwich,” a few pan-fried versions of peanut butter and banana popped up—some with honey or jam, and some with bacon. I skimmed a few of the stories, and thought “Meh, these recipes seem aiight, but they’re nothing stupendous; nothing befitting the over-the-top extravagance of Elvis Presley.” I mean, this guy was larger than life—a cultural icon who defined a musical genre. Jeez Louise, that’s a heck of a legacy—too much for a fried PB&J, even with bacon. But a few of the search results made reference to Denver restaurant The Mining Company’s Fool’s Gold Loaf being the inspiration for Elvis’s favourite sammy, so down a gluttonous rabbit hole I went, searching up all that I could. Legend has it that late one February night in 1976, Elvis and a couple of friends flew in the King’s private jet from Memphis to Denver, on a whim, to gorge themselves on 22 freshly made Fool’s Gold Loaves washed down with champagne and Perrier. What is this Fool’s Gold Loaf, you ask? Sit down—you might need a moment: a loaf of French bread, a whole lot of butter, a pound of bacon, and a jar each of peanut butter and grape jelly. And, FYI, every last bit of each of these ingredients goes into making one sandwich, which feeds up to 10 mere mortals, or one King of Rock and Roll. It only stands to reason that my story about a meal fit for The King should be based on the $50 (at the time) sandwich so ridiculously and absurdly decadent that it enticed three grown men to fly over 1,400 kilometres to binge on 22 of them in the dead of a winter’s night. And so, I present to you a recipe that covers all the craving bases: sweet, salty, creamy, and crunchy. Fair warning though, you may want to check in with your cardiologist before chowing down on too much hunka-hunka bacony love!