Subway (Mall at Tuttle Crossing)

5043 Tuttle Crossing Blvd, Dublin, OH

There is something to be said for keeping it simple, and not trying to be all things to all people. This is easier said than done when consumers always want more, often just for the sake of having it. Children give us a view into this condition. Younger ones will want something, and you'll say "you can get it." And they'll say, "No, I want YOU to get it."

Older ones are less obvious about it. "Can I have ice cream?"
"Sure. Get it yourself."
"Actually, I don't need any."

There's something nice about having people do things for us. To the extent that we'll unconsciously have them do things we don't even really want.

This is a long way to go to get to my criticism (or lack thereof) of my Subway experience today. I hadn't been to Subway for some time as the last several sandwiches I've had at various locations seemed sub-par. I always used to like Subway. What changed? Well what changed was that threatened by Quiznos, Subway decided they needed to add a feature to compete, that being the Siren song of the toasted sub. I call it a Siren song because it is seductive, tantalizing, and destructive (if you don't get the reference, stop reading this right now, buy The Odyssey of Homer, and vote against your local school board). More in a moment.

Today I ordered a six-inch roast beef on wheat, with provolone, lettuce, tomato and mayo. This is my equivalent of a rice cake. It's about as healthy as I eat. Then came the question: "Would you like that toasted?" That's programmed into my DNA as being an automatic YES, just like "Would you like to add bacon?" or "Can I get you another round?" How could I resist? Fortunately, I came to the counter prepared, reminding myself as I stood in line, "do not get it toasted, do not get it toasted, do not get it toasted," and was able get a "No thanks" out before it was too late.

In short, the Subway toasted sub is not the Quizno's toasted sub. It tastes like you toasted some bread, then microwaved it. Let's clear up any confusion that may be out there: you don't microwave bread. It one of those things you don't do. You could write a song about it:

You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger and
You don't microwave your bread

Microwaved bread becomes uneven: at once too hard, too soft, and too chewy. Microwaving bread is the perfect way to ruin any sandwich. But Subway doesn't use a microwave, they use a patented "Rapid Toaster" -- which could not get picked out of a lineup of industrial microwaves. Quiznos runs their sandwiches over high heat via a conveyor belt. It's simple, but effective. I don't know the mechanics of the Subway Rapid Toaster, but it succeeds in melting cheese, browning the bread... and making it taste microwaved.

This is a lesson I should have learned after my first toasted Subway sandwich. But I probably chalked it up to being an inferior franchise and stale bread. I should have learned after my second toasted sandwich tasted crappy, but the next time they asked me those same five words, "Would you like that toasted?" and not having thought about it, had to say yes. Now if a disaster occurred and I were living like Will Smith in I am Legend, and made my way through the rubble to an empty Subway, would I ever create my own sub, and upon completion even think to place it into that sandwich-death-trap? Of course not. But she said, "would you like to have that toasted?" not "would you like to have that ruined in the microwave?" So I did it again. Maybe this Subway-patented non-microwave would be different from all the others. I could only blame myself for the resulting ham and swiss on cardboard.

Today I said no. Today I had a lovely, fresh sandwich. The meat was good. The lettuce was a vivid green. The tomatoes had no green. And the bread was, thankfully, as bread should be.

We all sometimes yearn for simpler times. Perhaps it will take the smallest of baby-steps to get there. Keep your Blackberry. Rent your dog. Day-trade online. But for goodness sake, say no to toasting.