One time, a long time ago, there was a punk band. One day, the drummer in that punk band said, "Let's go to Quiznos," and the band went inside a Quiznos and ate there. The guitarist / vocalist from this band remembers next to nothing about the food from Quiznos.
Fast forward to twenty years later, the guitarist / vocalist for this punk band lives in a different state now and is bored with the lunch options provided to him with office life. A couple times he's Googled "sandwich delivery" instead of "sandwiches 55401" and a couple times Quiznos came up and a couple times he's said, "Ooh, fucking Quiznos?" because he remembered Quiznos being the kitty's titties back round two thousand, two thousand one, somewhere in there. But wait! Quiznos is out in the boondocks. But wait! They deliver! But wait. There's a ninety dollar minimum on delivery. So our protagonist goes without reliving the wonder of sandwiches that are "mm-mm-mm-mm-mmm toasted".
And one day, his long suffering partner, just trying to make a Dick Blick run for some canvas stretchers, takes his idiot ass with her and they pull up to one of the surely many plazas in Roseville and our protagonist sees the Quiznos and says, "Ooh, fucking Quiznos!?"
Alright, fuck it, let's get to the point. Kath got a four inch turkey club and said that shit was nas - they use Miracle Whip. Who does that? That's like my first ex, a Miracle Whip devotee, who couldn't abide mayonnaise as it didn't have the same zip and "zang" that Miracle Whip had. For real, she said that shit. She said that shit so many times that I had to stop her at one point and ask her, "What's zang?" Turns out zang is what separates Miracle Whip from good Christian mayonnaise (sugar and paprika) and Coke Classic from Pepsi (vanilla concentrate). In essence: Bullshit.
Kath, however, wasn't playing it and actually discarded half her bread.
She did not visit the flavor station, a kiosk with four lil buckets of pickled things - left to right from memory: whole pepperoncinis, jalapeño slices, banana pepper rings, dill pickle slices - under a sneeze guard. There were two squeezy bottles of some bullshit, too. Clearly, from the pic above, I took advantage of the flavor station, adding pickles to my eight inch classic Italian on a rosemary parmesan bread that tasted neither of rosemary or parmesan, with the sandwich's ingredients listed as:
Pepperoni, salami, capicola, ham, provolone, black olives, banana peppers, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, red wine vinaigrette
Well, that's more problematic than the first ten minutes of Near Dark. Pepperoni and salami at the same time. Would you be able to tell the difference? Capicola and ham at the same time. Would you tell the difference there? So you've got four meats that just taste like salty pork. Kind of a waste of an animal if you want to make a bunch of subtle distinctions between the curing process and the zip and zang and shit but then you throw it all in a big pile.
Then there's the provolone which brings us to the first time we break out this graphic for twenty twenty.
Tomatoes were firm, banana peppers and onion mostly unnoticeable, the red wine vinaigrette was dece, and there was a whole butt-ass-load of, you guessed it:
I ate half because of my diet and wrapped up the other half and then we went to Cheapo where I bought my first Steely Dan record and we were in there for forty five minutes while a mom let her bullshit ugly kid named Cameron knock over a bunch of CDs and run all over the store until it was time to go and then she just kept saying, "Cameron," and Cameron, I can tell you, wasn't having it. I was wondering why the staff didn't tell this lady to leash her pet but...
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Then we got back in the car, came back to the crib, and I ate my other half of the sandwich and, really truly honestly, sitting in a cold car for nearly forty five minutes actually improved the damned thing.
Whatever I may have remembered about Quiznos from twenty years ago is on the same level as what I may have remembered about Long John Silver's from ten years ago. Perhaps it's a false memory and it was always this bad or maybe it was actually really good back in the day but multiple recessions lead to mergers and buyouts and venture capitalists and store closures and distributor restructuring and cheapened recipes and lax quality control, blah blah blah. Whatever the reason, false memory or decline, there are only five Quiznos in all of Minnesota. There's only one Long John Silver's left. That's exactly one more Long John Silvers in the state than RadioShacks and there're tons of articles circulating speculating on the demise of RadioShack, usually involving venture capitalists (the same people who shutdown Cracked and College Humor). I could go on a tear - no, I could. This is my sandwich blog and fuck you if you think I'm playing nicey-nice. Did you see last week? When I told a story from when I was "higher than a nine eleven jumper"? You think I'm going to put the brakes on now? Where did you think you came to? Sandwich Cuddleshop?
Anyway, I told Kath on the way back here, "If I ever tell you I remember a place being awesome, just ask me when the last time I was there was. If it's been longer than thirty six months, you can veto it. If I protest, remind me how bad the hush puppies were, remind me that they use fuckin' Miracle Whip at Quiznos."
I don't know why I said thirty six months instead of three years but that's what I said.
And you know? I think that sounds reasonable. That's a life rule you can apply to yourself, too. Don't go recommending a loved one go to a place that you haven't personally been to in the last three years. "I want to go to Long John Silver's because the hush puppies are the culinary grande dame but I haven't been there in a decade... I don't think I should make someone who loves and trusts me go there with me until I do a little exploratory research." "I remember liking Quiznos the one time I got it but that was back when people were legitimately worried to the point of clearing off supermarket shelves about Y2K. Do I think I should make someone who places whole, explicit, and unrestrained faith in my judgment eat this without being sure this once prestigious sandwich chain hasn't devolved into a Salvation Army Potbelly? Like, if I want to get my boo a toasted sandwich, shouldn't we just go to Potbelly? I mean, fuck, even Subway toasts everything, insofar that they are legally allowed to call what they do toasting..."
I don't know, man, if you're in Roseville and you're like, "Where's a Potbelly?" I guess you could go to Quizn- What's that? There's a Potbelly in Roseville at 1595, 1015 MN-36 W Space, Roseville, MN 55113? Well, shit, I guess... I mean is there any justification for going to Quiznos? One of the last five Quiznos in Minnesota? They have a flavor station, I guess. Potbelly doesn't have that. And Kath said that she saw in the Roseville Quiznos they had a trophy for Best Sandwich shop or something. Dated two thousand three.
Keep riding that prestige, homies.
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