A friend of mine from France wants to open a sandwich and bread shop somewhere. One of the choices is New York, and he asked me over the summer what kind of sandwiches and breads Americans would appreciate. After all, he knows what the French want, but, he thought, Americans might be different.

I told him that he was right. So here are some of the things I came up with. I had more, but I forgot them - but is there anything obvious I missed? What kind of sandwiches do people like?

1. Fillings- Two slices of perfect ham, some country butter, and three cornichons sliced into three thin slices each might work as a baguette sandwich in France, and might be my favorite sandwich in the world. But If you try to sell that in America, and especially in New York, what with the "pound o'meat" delis and even just subway and quizno's, you'll get laughed out of the city. Americans want inventive, copious, sandwiches. Think figs and goat cheese. Duck confit with caramelized onions. Pork belly with greens. That kind of thing.

2. Make it "fresh" - In France, generally, they'll make all the sandwiches when the second batch of bread comes out of the ovens in the mid-morning. Once the pile runs out, no more sandwiches. That won't work here, I think. People want to see you make their sandwich. And they want to pick what goes where.

3. Veggies, and not brie - You need vegetarian options. A whole group of friends might skip your place because you haven't got anything for the resident vegan. Avoid the problem with (inventive and copious) vegetarian fillings.

4. Salty add-ons - The standard "extra value meal" in a French boulangerie is sandwich, cake, coke. I've never in my life seen that here - you've just got to be able to offer some gourmet chips or something.

5. Let the pricing gun go wild - This is probably New York centric, but there are literally thousands of people with up to $65 a day or more to spend on food through their clients. These people are not going to cringe at the $16.95 nouveau lobster roll, or whatever you come up with. And even those without food allowances are used to higher prices. $3.95 might get you a chicken salad sandwich in Wilmington, but a New Yorker thinks $7.95 is quite the deal.

I am back from St. Louis, where I watched my brother do a wonderful job of playing the nefarious constable in Fiddler on the Roof.

In the mean time-- Rebecca Tushnet examines Congress's enumerated powers to regulat information, and Tyler Cowen examines the virtues of living in Sweden. My brother and I also played a close game of Scrabble, but neither of us came near 830 points.