After Page Six senior reporter Stephanie Smith made her boyfriend, Eric Schulte, a turkey sandwich in June 2012, he joked, “Honey, you’re 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring!” She gamely took on the challenge, anonymously launching 300sandwiches.com, a blog about her quest to woo him with bread-and-meat creations. But when Smith revealed herself to be the blog’s author in The Post last September, her act of love sparked a raging debate about gender relations. In the end, the sandwiches — and love — won. Last week, Schulte popped the question — while sandwich No. 257 was in progress. Here, Smith tells her story.
I can say with certainty that the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.
My boyfriend, Eric — who is a great cook — declared I was 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring after I made him a killer turkey-and-Swiss sandwich in June 2012.
Eric is a man of his word — he always calls when he says he will, follows through on vacation plans and is never more than three minutes late for dinner or a movie.
So I was shocked when he popped the question as I was getting ready to make sandwich No. 257.
I initially thought I would have reached 300 by this past February or so. But between work, life, a periodic lack of groceries and a desire to eat something other than sandwiches from time to time, my pace of making three or four a week slowed.
When we headed to Barbados for a vacation with four of our close friends last week, I didn’t suspect a thing.
I also hadn’t planned on cooking much in Barbados, but the best fish market on the island was a few minutes from our vacation home, so we grilled almost every day.
The official sandwich of Barbados is the “fish cutter”: fried flying fish topped with relish, tartar sauce or — our favorite — spicy Bajan hot pepper sauce, all stuffed into an oversized roll known as salt bread.
On the second morning of our trip, I was inspired to make a healthier version of the fish cutter with grilled mahi-mahi, relish and Bajan hot pepper sauce. I told Eric sandwich No. 257 was to be that night’s dinner.
“Great,” he said. “Number 257, a prime number.”
Eric is a computer programmer so it was the kind of geeky comment he’d make.
My friend Victoria suggested we go for a girls’ day at the spa, so we headed out to a resort about 40 minutes away.
When we pulled back into the driveway, I got out and was walking towards the pool when suddenly Eric jumped out of the bushes to greet me.
“Hey there, eager beaver!” I exclaimed.
He embraced me, gave me a big wet kiss and then said: “Come here.”
Guiding me by the hand, he led me to the end of the path, which opened up to the pool — and a gorgeous scene. On the deck was a giant heart, artfully arranged out of hundreds of petals. The sun was setting over the ocean, and the pool was illuminated by a ring of paper lanterns. Then Eric lowered to one knee and reached for a clam shell the size of his palm. He removed the top, and a diamond ring was nestled inside.
I was crying so much, I barely heard him ask, “Will you marry me?”
Of course I would!
It wasn’t until Eric slid the ring halfway down my finger that I noticed the beautifully crafted setting — a perfect mix of vintage and modern, not too big and not too small.
I told him I loved him and there was no one else I’d rather spend my life with.
The whole gang went out for dinner that night to celebrate, so No. 257 wasn’t even served until the following day.
It was the first meal I made him as his fiancée. He kissed me on the cheek and devoured it like the previous 256.
I still plan on getting to No. 300 for Eric. He deserves those 43 sandwiches. Not just because he proposed, but because while I’m making them, he shows me how to really enjoy life.
He’s taught me to sing in the morning, and not to be afraid of failure — whether in the kitchen or at work or play. He’s showed me how to love unconditionally — even when your partner, who might have planned to make pulled pork sandwiches, is yelling at the Crock-Pot after she burned the meat. Eric makes me laugh when I feel like screaming, and comforts me during moments of extreme anguish.
The adventures we’ve had over 257 sandwiches are what make me excited to start a life with Eric. Who knows where we will end up when we finally reach 300?