Subway: something that should be under the ground

I’m at a loss as to why Subway is expanding in the UK. If the Guardian’s figures are true, it means their triumph of presentation over substance is working, just as it’s worked in the USA.

I mean, I’m a sandwich fan. The right floury or malty bread with lots of seeds… a good cut of prime beef, the competitive boxing of bacon and avocado between ciabatta halves, homemade mayo mustard, salad leaves bursting out the sides, freshly ground black pepper adding a buzz, balsamic vinegar that soaks into sourdough… summer evenings during this ‘recovery week’ (after yesterday’s hilly Triathlon) just don’t get any better than this. Every night this week I’ll be on my balcony with a glass of New Zealand white and a plate of sunshine between two slices.

But Subway? Four kinds of indentically artificial bread, twelve reconstituted fillings, four generic sauces mixed in giant vats and frozen? Even the salads look plastic. And what’s worse, the sandwiches just fall apart when you try to eat them; the bread’s so full of air it crumbles when picked up. I’ve ventured into Subway twice recently when I felt like a lunch instead of a coffee, and left feeling angry both times.

Americans and most British are easy to fool when it comes to food – without much choice in their own Main Streets, they’re just not accustomed to fresh or edgy flavours. But London? With its organic obsession, Fresh & Wild supermarket, Borough Market, trains that’ll get you to France in hours and low-cost airlines that make it possible to visit Spain or Italy for dinner?

But nonetheless, the Subway network is fast digging deep into the UK economy. The shops are clean, the smells are seductive, and the range on offer makes it look like a real sandwich shop. But it’s not a patch on any local Greek or Italian one-off where the owner cuts his meat straight from a homecooked bird every morning. And never will be.