Although I've had a lifelong love-hate relationship with fast food, specifically McDonald's and Burger King, why anyone frequents either of those places every day eludes me. It’s a substantial commitment, one that comes with five hours of digestion lethargy and a sludgy feeling all over. This, perhaps, has been the only thing that has stopped me from seeking out a Double Whopper every day, and I used to be able to take comfort in that security from gut busting. But now, I feel less safe. Vulnerable, even. There is a new challenger in my fight against take-out grub, and it’s a formidable one.
The Honey Mustard Chicken Bacon sandwich, available nationwide from Quiznos, is the greatest sandwich ever made. This is not an exaggeration. It is the pinnacle of human sandwich achievement, and shall never be topped unless a double-decker version is introduced. I first discovered this wonderful creation in 2005, at a Quiznos in South Baltimore. I was smitten as soon as I downed that first footlong, and at this point I've consumed several yards of the sandwich. The Honey Mustard Chicken Bacon sandwich is so supreme, that over the course of three years of going to Quiznos steadily, I’ve never taken a chance on anything else from the menu. Every single time, a Honey Mustard Chicken is on its way; I walk in and the employees automatically prepare it. There is no variety, just repetition: sweet, sweet repetition.
The sandwich's condiments are flexible, but the foundation is set in stone. The Quiznos Sandwich Artist prepares the bread (they used to have ciabatta, which was fantastic, but their selection has since been limited to white or wheat, my choice), and squeezes out the impeccable honey mustard from a three-pronged plastic bottle. Then comes the eternal question: tomatoes and onions? I always nix on the tomatoes, but ask for onions and lettuce instead, which is always met with no response from Quiznos gang, as the lettuce is always applied after toasting to avoid blackening. Four slices of Swiss cheese are added, then a cup of freshly boiled chicken is applied to the work in progress, and a handful of chopped bacon is scattered on top. As a finishing touch, pepper is sprinkled, and with that, the sandwich is ready to go into Quiznos' trademark toasting device, where the footlong is sent through an oven on a conveyor belt, and after about a minute, it emerges at the other end, sufficiently crispy and warm. Our delicious journey is done, and the Honey Mustard Chicken Bacon is mine. Without exception, I always get a drink with the sandwich (either Pepsi or Mountain Dew), and on occasion, I add a bag of Sun Chips for future hunger security.
This routine has never once been altered or changed in any way, and to this day this is the only sandwich I have ever purchased from Quiznos (however, I’ve eaten a Prime Rib sub once, but only because my brother decided he didn't want it). I don't plan on ever straying from this routine (tradition at this point), and I'm quite happy and proud to admit that. What’s so amazing is that I almost never get the same thing to eat consistently anywhere else. This sandwich is so good that I would never dare risk buying an inferior meal just for the sake of variety. I am happy to throw variety to the wind, and embrace the best sandwich made in America. Jared, eat your hand!
