Showing posts with label Connecticut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Connecticut. Show all posts

Sunday, May 1, 2022

Sub Par

 
I have been a fan of Subway restaurants since they first appeared here, in Saskatoon.  I loved the taste of the freshly baked bread versus the packaged buns of their competitors.  Fresh veggies and cold cut meats, versus the packaged products of the other guys. And the friendly service I always got, unlike the other sub shops where the employees acted like they didn't want to be there.  Plus, Subway had another practice that toppled the competition -- the V-cut.


Where every other sub shop that I ever visited, did the traditional hinge cut, where as Subway perfected the cut by introducing a "U-gouge" down the middle of the warm bun, fresh from the oven. Subway proved by cutting their buns in this fashion kept all the fresh toppings inside the sandwich, rather than spilling all over the patron's shirt and all over the table.  This proved especially handy with Meatball subs.  I can remember several occasions of eating at the Mr. Sub with my dad and both of us cursing as the meatballs, heavily doused with tomato sauce, would shoot out the side of the hinge-cut sandwich and deposit themselves in our laps, leaving a saucy trail down our shirts.  In those days, it was not unusual to see customers leaving the restaurant with parts of their meal stained on their apparel. Subway's unique V-cut eliminated that probability.


The history of Subway began in 1965, when a seventeen year old Fred DeLuca borrowed a thousand dollars from his pal, Peter Buck, to open the first restaurant, simply called Pete's Super Submarines, in Bridgeport, Connecticut.  Two years later, the duo would change the name to Subway.  Then in 1974, the restaurant began franchising, seeing a second location open in Wallingford, Connecticut.  Soon the restaurant, rising in popularity, would spread across the continental USA, the first Subway restaurant opening on the west coast, appeared in Fresno, California in 1978.  After this it wouldn't take long for Subway's appeal to spread across the world, having approximately 41,600 restaurants, worldwide, by 2021.  Primarily located in continental North America, Subway has roughly 21,800 restaurants in the US, alone, with an additional 2881 in Canada and 758 in Mexico. The rest are peppered across the globe, like parmesan cheese on your favourite sandwich. Fred DeLuca would serve as the company CEO until 2015 when he lost his battle to Leukemia which he'd been battling for the previous two years. Several CEO's have succeeded Fred DeLuca since his passing, including his sister, Suzanne Greco.
It's my opinion that Subway began to falter in the absence of it's founder, Pete DeLuca.  Despite its continued success climbing in numbers, the restaurant seems to have altered the restaurateur's original vision.  It seems like it was around this time when the traditional V-cut was abandoned, replacing it with the problematic hinge-cut.  When asked, I was originally told that people "complained" about the V-cut, but later sources have made claims that it was a safety concern.  The latter excuse makes no sense as the sandwich artists still use a sharp knife to slice through the buns.  If anything, the hinge-cut would be more detrimental as one cuts the bun while holding it with their opposite hand.


Reports lay claim that if you wish your sandwich to be cut the old way, Subway staff are more than happy to oblige.  However, in all the Subway restaurants that I've been in, in Canada, the staff look at you like you've just spoken an alien language, having no clue as to what you're referring to.  There is only one Subway, that I continue to patronize, who knows how to cut the original V-cut.  I went so far as to sing their praises on Twitter, but was contacted by Subway Canada, inquiring as to which location this was, adding that the store was in direct violation of Subway's practices.  I never snitched, because I don't want to lose my preferred method of eating my delicious Subway sandwiches.

Subway restaurants have altered their practices and added options to their menus and subtracted other popular sandwiches and in recent years, as popular as the restaurant chain is, attempted some maneuvers that even an untrained eye would recognize as somewhat desperate.  Granted they had that setback when Jared Fogle, the patron who alleged that he had lost over 200lbs by eating healthy sandwiches from Subway in his native Indiana, who was later found to be in possession of child pornography and having sexual misconduct with a minor.  Fogle was immediately erased from Subway's lexicon and subsequently sentenced to 15 years in prison as a result.  On a side note, if you go to YouTube, you can look up comedian Tom Segura's tale of how he was hired and had actually shot some commercials that would never air, where he portrayed Fogle's fat brother, Jerome, who ate all the unhealthy sandwiches and remained fat.  I heard him tell this story on Conan O'Brien and it was f**king hysterical. 

Subway calls their employees, Sandwich Artists, but all the artistry is lost.  The same great taste is their, although in recent times, I've heard people relentlessly criticizing the taste of the bread, claiming they add sugar or something like that.  I don't know, the food tastes the same today as it ever did, as far as I'm concerned.  People just don't seem happy unless they have something to complain about.  Hell, this whole blog complains about how the hinge-cut as much as it praises the restaurant chain on it's uniqueness.
Someday, the proprietor of the Subway that I frequent, will sell her franchise and then the art of the V-cut will truly be dead and that saddens me greatly.  However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  YouTube being the phenomenal site that it is, has people demonstrating how to make the V-cut at home.  At some point, in the not too distant future, I will set aside the kitten videos and game playthroughs and settle in to learn the artistry of the infamous V-cut. Then I can start making my own Meatball subs at home, carefully avoiding the peril of dumping saucy meatballs down my shirt and into my lap.  Tomato sauce is difficult to remove from the sofa upholstery.


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Who Shot Will Sasso?

Got a call yesterday from my brother-in-law who is also my accountant.  I took in all my receipts and documentation to do with my income taxes a week or so ago and he's completed my taxation already.  For the first time in years, I'm finally going to get a refund, as opposed to having to pay in.  I guess unemployment has it's perks, although I'd imagine the fifty-two bucks coming my way will be diverted into the outstanding amount owed from four years ago, which I'm thinking is still in the thousands, or something along those lines.

I asked B___ what I owed for doing my taxes and he compassionately told me to simply bring him a coffee with cream.  As I said, unemployment has it's perks.  So I stopped at the nearest Tim Horton's by his office, to assure freshness and temperature, but what a chore that ordering process was.  [Head slap!]

I've voiced my opinions on this subject before and god damn it, I guess I'll be voicing them again.  I feel for any poor f*ck who faces oppression on a day-to-day basis in whatever backward f*cking country they come from, having to flee to the freedoms provided by one of the greatest countries in the world, Canada, but god damn it.  Learn the f*cking language.

It's good that there are people coming into this country who are willing to take those shitty f*cking jobs that no one with a grain of self respect would ever do as a life long vocation.  Flipping doughnuts, schlepping french fries or whatever the f*ck, but damn it!  Learn the language.  If you want to speak your jibberish in the back of the kitchen while preparing salads or cream-filled eclairs, then by all means, do that.  If you're going to work the front counter, then learn the language.  If I, myself, decided one day, "F*ck it!  I'm going to move to Buttf*ckistan."  I'm going to learn to speak Buttf*ckistani, come hell or high water.  I would show the Buttf*ckistanians that much respect.  I wouldn't dream of clumsily selling goat milk with my thick non-Buttf*ckistanian English.  The same should go for here in Canada.

An order that should have taken sixty seconds, at most, to place, took nearly four minutes of my endless failures to comprehend the less-than-broken English of (more consonants than vowels) girl.  I asked for an extra large coffee with cream and got the response, and I'm not exaggerating, "Doo da tray dee dee?"  I assume she asked a question as her tone rose at the end of her garbled speak.  "No," I said, "I want a large co-ffee, with creeeeam."

"Doo da tray dee dee?" she asked, with a look on her face like I was supposed to know what the f*ck she was saying.  "WHAT?" I confusedly responded.  She just smiled and repeated, "Doo da tray dee dee?"  I stared at her blankly...  "I...  I don't know what that means."

"Doo. Da. Tray.  Dee dee?" she said slowly, as if that was going to help.

"I want an extra large coffee with cream." I said.

"Ah." she muttered, and I swear I saw a light coming on.

"Oh good," I said, "I thought I was going to have to shoot myself in the head over that."

"Oh.  You want shot o assass-oh?"

"What?!" I charged, "Who shot Will Sasso?"

"No. You want shot o assass-oh!"

"WHAT?!?" I just stared at her, as she stupidly smiled back at me.  Truly a living example of: The lights are on, but nobody's home.  Dumb as f*ck!!

The one thing that stupidity has that I would consider to be a good trait is; Stupidity is colour-blind.  In fact, stupidity is affirmative action.  Stupidity, for all intense purposes, accepts people of all colours, cultures, creeds, and etcetera.  No matter what background you come from, whether you're a camel jockey from Kuwait or a race car driver in Milan or that Ivy League professor in Connecticut, you all possess the possibility of being painfully stupid*.

I don't know what the solution is to all this.  I wish there were a simple vaccine that people could get shot in their asses, that would vanquish stupidity forever, but until that day comes, I'm afraid all of us, myself included, are going to have to grow thicker skins in order to deal with these stupid f*cking people, whether they are domestic or imported.  In the meantime, maybe we need support groups.  A weekly meeting where us normal people can meet up for tea and cookies and a sympathetic shoulder to lean on while we talk out the idiocies that we're forced to contend with on a daily basis.

I did, finally, get my order.  Like I said, it took way longer than it needed to have taken, and it was finally because (more-consonants-than-vowels) girl finally handed me off to another bloke.  His English was atrocious, as well, but at least he was smart enough (barely) to take my order, accurately, and send me on my way.

.

Side Note: (*I met a college professor once, who was highly decorated with all kinds of diplomas and certificates.  He had a brand new car, which was failing miserably.  The cause was no oil.  He'd run the car for a couple of years, never changing the oil or even checking it or anything of the sort.  Then one day, he turned the key and the engine had seized up on him and he couldn't figure out why.  No oil,  stupid!!)