Check... Please!!!!!

We spend a lot of time around Wiglar Headquarters thinking... thinking and asking questions about what it would take to make the Wiglar a more "legitimate" publication. What would it take to turn this rag into a more valued part of the community while at the same time helping the local economy? What could we possibly do to give the Reglar Wiglar a little more class? And then it hits us: restaurant reviews! What if we gave a couple of our best writers five bucks and sent them out to review a few of the local eateries? Yeah, we spend a lot of time around here thinking... thinking and asking questions...

SUBWAY

Strip mall on Broadway, just north of Berwyn

You know those coupons they print on the back of you receipt from the grocery store?

Ambiance

Nonexistent. A few tables, décor overwhelmingly sepia-toned. Huh. I'll take it to go, thanks.

Cuisine/Service

First off, the ordering procedure at Subway is pretty peculiar: standing face to face with the "sandwich artist", guiding the artist through the creation of your meal. A dialog is established. "What kind of bread would you like?" (Ceramic replicas of the options are on display to aid the undecided). "What kind of cheese? Lettuce? Tomatoes? Pickles? Peppers?" These artists approach their work like the guildsmen of the Rococo period. I ordered a steak and cheese sandwich. "Steak, cheese, and bread. That's all I want." By the time he'd finished, the Sandwich Artist had offered me olives, jardiniere, mayonnaise, and (this one startled me), salad dressing. The sandwich, eventually made to my specifications, was pretty darn good. I had to heat it up in the oven at home in order to get the white cheese-like stuff under the meat to melt. While I was warming my sandwich, I read the nutritional information printed on the napkin. It was, um, informative. Subway Select Horseradish Steak and Cheese, the sandwich was called, and I'll order it again, if I ever get another one of those nifty coupons.

$$$

Sandwich and a bag of Cheetos: $4.12.

Check . . . Please!!!--Wolfgang Puke