I really should know better than to stop at Arbys on the way to work, but it's convenient location and drive thru windows keeps calling me again and again. This time it was a new item on the menu, the Arby's "sub" sandwiches. First of all I must protest the naming of this item... it claims to be a sub, but the luxurious 6-12 inches of Subway, Quiznos, Duffyz and Publix have set the new standard. The "sub" offered by Arby's is at most 5 inches long, AND cut in two. In essence, it is a pair of 2.5" sandwiches, and as such do not quality for sub-dom. Their dimensions are more like those Sam's Club ribwiches, cut in half. However, appearances are the least of the worries.
While the ingredients are reminiscent of what one might put on a sub, like say, lettuce, banana peppers, pickles, lunchmeat, swiss, etc.. they are all uniformly cooked as melts, soggy with melted cheese and sweating veggies. Now "soggy" has never been a very tempting description of a sandwich... you bite into one side and the darn thing juices all over your hand holding it, making you reach for a napkin at every bite or to ravenously lick at your hand like a starving Klingon at a plate of g'agh. Red wine vinaigrette was never meant to be contained in a sandwich.
My next big beef with these beefless aberrations is more of a comentary on pop-sub-culture in general. Toasted... why the bloody blazes does EVERY single sandwich in America need to be toasted now? I used to enjoy just going to subway and eating a sub, but then somebody at Quiznos and 7-11 got the great idea that they should offer toasted subs. Then Subway, Firehouse and all other competition joined in suit. Not only do they offer toasting on the menu, but now sandwich artists seem to pause every 3 seconds to ask you if you want your sub toasted. Then, when you have the audacity to say no... they blink a bit, bewildered and ask for second confirmation. Then there is a 30 second span where they attempt to process the data, disregard your request and just toast it anyway against your express wishes. for example...
Clerk: Toasted or untoasted?
Consumer: Untoasted, please.
Clerk: .... you mean toasted?
Consumer: NO! NOT Toasted!
Clerk: *thinks for 30 seconds, then throws it on the toaster*
Consumer: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
Clerk: *looks hurt* But EVERYBODY wants them toasted!
No, seriously... I do not want my sub toasted! I will say it again and again... UN-Toasted! Toasting a sub makes the bread chew on your gums, makes it carcinagenic and in effect... the sandwich eats you. It is unnecessary, only adds more work than it needs to be and I flat out prefer it untoasted, so for gods sake, dont toast my buns!
Even worse is when you stand in line and some angry fat woman shrieks like she was just stabbed because she didn't say anything when they asked her if she wanted her sandwich toasted, and she gets an untoasted sandwich. It's the bloody end of the world that this blimp doesn't get to eat her lunch breakfast style and the whole store needs to suffer her shrieking mating call to the lard as she attempts to belittle the poor sandwich slingers as much as she can without wheezing from the effort. CHILL, MISS HIPPO! They will make you another sandwich, you have not paid yet for this one. Take this as a learning experience, to answer people when they ask you a question instead of disgustingly telling your husband on the cell phone which feminine product he should pick up from the store for you while we are trying to eat. If you wish to have your wishes come true, then make them audible!
But that is a general beef of all subs... what makes THIS arbys sub special? In the famous tradition of all Arbys food, the sauces seem to instantaneously seek ejection from the human digestive tract. The ranch dressing mixed with juicy veggie sweat and meat grease were just too much, like mixing oil with water with baking soda. Unlike the Arbys sandwiches with cheese sauce however, these Arby's subs seek a less conventional exit, the very path they entered the body. After a large Dr. Pepper and but ONE of these sandwiches, my stomach gurgled and expanded like a pidgeon feasting on wedding rice, the pain was horrible. It was like eating a troll steak and feeling it regenerate in your belly, the tiny little claws scraping against the walls of your inner being. I sprinted to the bathroom and this time made the most horrible retching noises I could possibly inflict on our customers as the Arbys value meal soared towards the light and past my tonsils. It is an unnerving feeling when it comes out cold, now I know what a refrigerated water fountain feels like on a warm summer day. Again I am thwarted by the fast food industry and tricked into consuming the indigestable. It looks so good on the billboard, tastes so good in the mouth, but feels like swallowing mothballs when it hits the stomach. It's 1/3 the size of a Subway's footlong and about twice the calories and triple the fat and sodium. Nutritional value... questionable. The true victim in all of this was the poor Dr. Pepper. A choice blend of 23 flavors should not be ejected so unceremoniously.
Beware the Arby's Subs.
