by Krista Terebessy

Created on: May 20, 2008   Last Updated: March 26, 2011

For a fast food restaurant that models its primary product on a submersible weapon of destruction, the quality of Subway's sandwiches has fittingly managed to sink down to that standard. The unlucky consumer often leaves in a soggy, unimpressed and full-bellied stupour.

Visual and sensory harassment is a staple of this tacky and mass-produced version of your disco-age public school cafeteria, minus the meat loaf Fridays (although one still has to wonder about their generically termed meatball sub). Walls covered with newspaper apparently induce nostalgia for New York's early metro system, but combined with the lemon-yellow plastic booths and neon light-lined windows, anyone walking in the store has the distinct impression of landing in a parallel comic book universe. But even Superman with a Harvard business degree would need a miracle to save this franchise chain from itself.

Cleanliness seems to have about as much priority in Subway restaurants as does the importance they place on interior design. Yellow garbage bins are often so full they 'Thank You' for throwing out your trash by spitting it back onto your tray, and sneeze guards cloaking the food counters look as if a parade of dribbly-nosed cold victims had just passed through. The meats and veggies strewn chaotically over each other's compartments (their tomato bin may look more like a collection of Greek salad ingredients fresh from a back-alley dumpster), and the mysteriously sticky floor sprinkled with used serviettes and empty straw wrappers would make any health inspector file an inquiry. The only hygienic havens are the washrooms, whose pungent aromas of toilet bleach and Windex can at least assure you that you're not contracting salmonella while otherwise occupied with washing dried sweet onion sauce off your hands.

Messy casualties are commonplace consequences of the sub-eating process, as they tend to stuff so much food into the sub that it can't close (although not for lack of very unceremonious and futile attempts by the rushed employees). After its corset-like wrapping is removed, the sight that unfolds looks like the latest masterpiece from kindergarten craft time. Trying to manoeuvre this bloated mass into your mouth has transformed dinner into a task of Herculean proportions.

Quantity is something that is provided in plenty, but the quality is a matter many abused palates have a bone to pick with. Or maybe that was just the fly that got thrown in with the black olives.

Starting off with

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>