The Wake

Hippocrates once said, “Let food be your medicine.” That’s all well and good, as long as the food doesn’t taste like smoked crap rubbed in cod liver oil which leads to a series of gagging reflexes. Such is an apt description for the salmon salad now featured, for what I would assume to be a very limited time, on Subway’s menu.

When I think of Subway, I picture that girl in high school who dressed in the 1980s style, off-the-shoulder shirts as soon as she found out it was popular, and who, consequently, didn’t have an original bone in her body. That is Subway. Subway has been hopping on the trend wagon and adapting their menu to every food craze Americans can chew on. The low-fat (7 subs under 6 grams of fat), the low-carb (wraps filled with meat complimented by meat), and now . . . da, da, da, da, da, da . . . salmon: America’s newest food furor.

Salmon contains omega-3 fats, which health experts consider to be the superheroes of the fat world. These omega-3 fatty acids help prevent heart disease, cancer, memory loss, depression, and many more diseases. Maybe that is why the crazy, computer-generated fish in Subway’s new commercial seem so happy jumping into the Grizzly bear’s claw laden grasp. They will be helping millions fight dangerous diseases, one smoked fillet at a time. Maybe. Or, perhaps they are committing suicide because they realize how God-awful a commercial they are in. As my roommate put it, “I hate this commercial. I just hate it.” The suicidal salmon and I concur. My trip to Subway, and any trip to Subway for that matter, went as follows: I entered and immediately went blind from the prominent neon yellow scattered about, leaving my nose to follow the smell of fresh-baked bread to the counter. This is where my experience began to shift from the norm. I order the same turkey sub every time I go to a Subway. And so, there I was, sad because I would have to break tradition and order this salmon concoction, which I was wary of trying. I mean let’s be honest. Salmon is something you order at a nice seafood restaurant because you know it will be a high-quality fish that is cooked and seasoned to compliment what, when done wrong, can be a very fishy fish. The employee asked me what bread I wanted and I reluctantly replied I wanted the salmon salad. The are-you-sure? look I received, composed of a furrowed brow and reeling back in horror, was almost enough for me to pull a “just kidding” and screw the food review for the sake of my taste buds. But I composed myself and reaffirmed by order, “Yes, the salmon salad, please.”

I then went through the usual process of adding wanted amenities, said it was to go, and paid the man $5 and change for my plastic encapsulated adventure. The best part was being able to take it home. The thought of sitting on my soft cushy sofa and enjoying a meal I didn’t have to make kept me optimistic about my dinner’s future. Although all optimism was figuratively vomited up after a few bites. Let me clarify that I like salmon, but I am not as much of a fan of smoked salmon. Eating my meal was like watching a horror movie; the screaming didn’t occur until about halfway through. At first, I was like, “This isn’t so bad. Not, good, but edible.” Did I mention that I have an exponential growth of grossness when I eat smoked fish? The beginning bites were good. There was one tolerable bite, and then it shot straight up to lip curling and gagging. I tossed it about halfway through and made myself a sandwich.

Lesson learned. Eat the sandwiches at Subway — not the salmon. But, if you are a fan of smoked fish, do not let this review deter you from trying it. I am just not a big fan, and Subway does not, to my knowledge, advertise that the fish is smoked. So, how was I to know what awaited me under that plastic dome. I was the girl in horror movies who, instead of leaving the house when she heard noises, goes to investigate. I should have taken the employee’s reaction as a clear sign that trouble was in store for me and changed my order to a trusty turkey sub on wheat.