I have only a small discovery to report today: If you are so clumsy that your open-faced tomato sandwich goes flying through the air and splatters spectacularly on the floor, counter, fridge, dishwasher, cabinets, and you — it is still a tomato sandwich. At least in theory. At least if no one else was looking. Also: it will still taste like a tomato sandwich if you should recklessly choose to reassemble it.
Don't ask me how I know this. Please assume that it dawned on me in the shower, like most of my deeper thoughts. Please do not assume I was rinsing off stray bits of tomato brains (what else can you call them?) at the time.