From: The Grand Rapids Press
You have to realize that I’m just not a “foodie.”
I’m not adventuresome when it comes to meals. My idea of eating exotically when traveling is to find a Panera Bread, order what I usually order, then – get this – get a different kind of cookie for dessert.
It’s OK to get a little crazy when on the road, but not too much.
As you can imagine, my devotion to chains and routine drives my friends and relatives up a wall.
My friend Will is a certified foodie, writing restaurant reviews and everything. He lives in Chicago, which has about a million restaurants. He knows them all.
So when I visit, we have conversations like this:
Me: “Hey, I see you have a new Subway down the block.”
Will: “In Chicago, we call it ‘The El.’ It’s, like, a hundred years old and you’ve been on it lots of time.”
Me: “No, I mean the sandwich place. I might get a 6-inch turkey and cheese on the way out of town. It’s less than 300 calories.”
Will at this point usually sighs, rolls his eyes and cancels reservations.
The exception is pizza. I love pizza, and I am a pizza snob. I find a place that is closest to New York-style pizza and stick with it. All others cease to exist. I cannot be tempted by your inferior pizza.
So I’m not sure what to think about this week’s bad postcard.
It’s from a place that was once in St. Clair Shores.
The back reads: “Hi Neighbor. Now that we are in your neighborhood, we would like you to come in and browse. We offer a supurb selection of fine wines, liquors, champagnes and unusual gifts for the discriminating collector. We also offer delicious submarine sandwiches and pizza. Hope to see you soon."
I have concerns about the front. What appears to be a roast beef sub is floating in a sea of hot pink. The whole floating thing might be why the roast beef appears to be flapping around at gravity defying angles.
But untethered sandwiches are the least scary thing there.
Let’s go to the top right corner, where there is a selection of the finest meats and cheeses, and sandwiches of varying lengths, some of which far and away exceed the calorie count of my turkey sub.
But, in the back there is a little guy in a cart getting pulled by a colorfully decorated horse. It’s either a little guy, or an average-sized guy surrounded by huge cheese, meats and sandwiches.
Slide over to the top left and there is an assortment of booze, and another wagon of sorts, this one perched on a hot pink shag pillow.
Drop down to the last panel and there is a rectangular pizza – unacceptable – joined by a guy carrying bread in his hands and head and yet another horse and cart, this one sinking into a cushion of hot pink shag.
The whole horse and food combination is unsettling. I've been to Mackinac Island. I know how those things smell and what they leave in the road. It’s not appetizing, in the least.
That actually worked out, because I couldn't find a Panera Bread on the island anyway.
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