Terrible was a word for it. Revolting is another.
My wife ordered us a bunch of stuff from Appleseed crepes, including what they considered a Philly cheesesteak sandwich, which was actually old roast beef with melted cheese. All the time I was consuming this, feeling terrible that cow had to die for this awful thing (I am a former vegetarian still quite sympathetic), I looked at the Charley's sign next door, and it called to me, like a shining beacon of what my sandwich should have been. So, I walked up and ordered that image seducing me from the menu board, literally that is what I requested "the one on the menu board." It was to be a beautiful fusion of a cheese steak bomb with a delightfully fresh salad incorporated in its folds, and it was pictured with bacon and cheese fries and a soda, and I was so hungry I ordered those too.
What I received back was not a sandwich style baguette, but a sub-style baguette. Why is this important, you ask? It is because you can't possibly stuff everything pictured in that menu board sandwich into a partially divided sub roll. You need to split it completely and then build it, artisanly, like a sandwich, not some sub you'd buy at some place with "House of" in the name.
It had a couple of mushrooms, an onion here or there, and maybe a pepper or two, infused into the dryest, saltiest bit of what you might try to call beef, and covered with some sort of cheese.
There was no lettuce, no tomato, no anything I had seen in the menu board sub that would help delude me into thinking this sub was anything other than the answer you give on the form marked "Reason for Angioplasty" at your doctor's. I would have settled for wilted lettuce and truck-ripened tomatoes instead of the wonderfully fresh looking greens and tomatoes featured on the menu board, but there was nothing. It made me miss the Appleseed cheesesteak sandwich and repent ordering meat that clearly paid no honor to the cows that died to make it.
I was hungry, so I did eat it, but I couldn't bear to eat the fries. They were drenched in what looked like a convenience mart's finest this-will-pass-for cheese sauce and topped with a deluge of tiny, microscopic, uncooked bacon bits. Mmmm.... uncooked fat dander. I decided to save that for my dogs, but, then, I decided that wasn't fit for my dogs either. I just threw it away.
The fountain-drink Sprite was satisfactory. read more