| rev:text
| - The excitement over the proliferation of Subway's less health-conscious cousin is hard for this writer to comprehend.
It's been 31 years since the first Jimmy John's franchise operated from out of a garage in Illinois. Today, Jimmy John's is almost becoming as embedded and saturated as The House Fred DeLuca Built (at least one other JJ's is located in the same zip code), and it's not an entirely despicable development based on a recent visit brought about by an evening without my Kay. "Heck, I might as well try one out," I said to myself as I casually hoofed it up Grant Street in search of a cheap, expedient dinner.
I did find that my Jimmy John's Billy Club vaults over anything Subway manufactures (I was told by one employee years ago that Subway refers to their foods as 'materials' to be 'assembled.'), but I'm still getting the impression that like DiBella's, something special was lost in the transition from local mom-n-pop gem to national fast-food powerhouse.
My Billy Club (#8 on the menu) consisted of "medium rare" roast beef, smoked ham, provolone, Dijon mustard, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. While the meat was ample albeit a touch dry and the bread was chewy and faux-artisan, I kept feeling as if this was something one could concoct at home with minimal effort, particularly as the mild-mannered proteins slid from out of the grinders other end with each chomp, and I pushed them back in. .
Jimmy John's tries valiantly to trick the diner into thinking he or she has stumbled into a shiny, new, independent sandwich shop. The white tiled walls, gleaming railings, spacious layout, wooden seats, glossy, black takeaway menus with the ironic fonts, and the impeccably friendly staff all indicate a willingness to replicate what a Jimmy John's would be like if the entire chain started up in whatever city you're currently in.
Wait 'til one opens in Grand Forks, North Dakota! Marilyn Hagerty will be in for an experience!
As for me, I was just moderately impressed with their selection which seemingly features the same ingredients in interchangeable configurations. There's the aforementioned roast beef and "real smoked ham" along with tuna salad, the usual Italian delicatessen meats, turkey breast...and I'm yawning as I write this. Chain sandwich joints such as these are sapping my patience and interest.
Oh, I had dessert too.
That shrink-wrapped cookie I had was basically a squishy Little Debbie lunchbox treat magnified in size. I'm sure I could find something of similar quality in my employer's row of vending machines.
Nonetheless, I liked that bread enough, and for two quarters per day-old loaf, I almost took some home...to make an even better sandwich for myself.
For me, Jimmy John's just ain't got it goin' on.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)