A Poor Man's Subway

It was all by chance that day when I was twelve, standing in front of the pimply teenager with the hair net constructing my sub sandwich. I had no idea that jalapenos were even offered as a topping, and I was tired of going through telling them pretty much every topping to put on my sandwich. So I did it. I said "I want everything on it." This boy didn't hesitate. I don't really like onions on it, but I was willing to eat a few onions to have a sandwich full of veggies.

Then it happened.

This "sandwich artist" in front of me sprinkled on jalapenos. My heart sunk. I was way too polite to have him remove them. And, after all, I did ask for everything! I knew my sandwich, my turkey on wheat was ruined. But it was a long drive back home and I was hungry. I was just going to have to eat it. Looking back, it was destiny.

I must proclaim it with joy: Jalapenos DO belong on a sub sandwich! They are an essential ingredient of the tastiness, in fact. And mind you, I prefer the failed chain of Blimpy sandwiches, or even Port of Subs (who has no locations quasi-near me) to an actual Subway, but I have been tormented with the need, with the love, with the passion for a turkey on wheat, all the toppings INCLUDING jalapenos.

Even when I am at my worst morning sickness-y day, I can still keep down a delightful sandwich with jalapenos. To the point where it has become a financial burden. It simply is not in the budget to inhale a Subway sandwich for lunch and dinner every day. This reality has cut me to my core.

Yet I was determined as I walked through the aisles of Smith's that the best replication of this sandwich bliss would indeed exist in my own refrigerator. Mine to scarf morning, noon, and night. While I believe I have achieved the closest facsimile, my stomach is full, relatively happy, and my fridge is stocked.

With Jalapenos.

(and the Subway complaint inbox contains one more request for more drive thru locations in the Vegas valley)