This place is the sort of trendy, locally sourced, free range crunchy paradise that just begs you, dares you to hate it. You look at the ridiculously bubbly show off at the counter effortlessly tossing the most delicious looking salad you've ever seen (seriously, I'm not even a salad guy) while taking your order and apparently running the whole show, and you consider punching him... except that he stands between you and sandwich paradise, so you play his game like he's the upbeat cousin of the Soup Nazi.
Then you get to the soup, and are tempted to eat it straight from the serving pot. But you can't. Not allowed. Rules are stupid.
So you sit, with your soup and sandwich, and you black out over the next several minutes, and then you look down and your food is gone and you are ludicrously satisfied, forgetting how much you hate these people. And this makes you wonder...
Could all the world's issues be solved by a Soup and Sandwich? Would we all love each other more if we were bound together by the bonds of Chicken Enchilada Chili?
Perhaps, my friends. Perhaps.