Friday, October 28, 2005

When buying a sandwich becomes an artform


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Originally uploaded by Mimmo's Visual Experience.

There are lots of things about this City that are making me like it (and I mean LIKE like it).

We've already talked about a few of them - the people; the clean streets; the lifestyle; the coffee shops, etc.

But today I visited the kind of store that Starbucks would be, if it specialised in sandwiches.

"Potbelly" is fabulous - let me just say that up front. Love the name, love the colours, love the fact that it's a chain store that is spread all around the City.

So you're seeing the Starbucks analogy already. But that's not where I'm going with this story.

When Starbucks customers have downed their 'upside down caramel extra caramel red eye macchiatos' (and that's NOT made up!), they head to "Potbelly" for lunch. Because only the staff at "Potbelly" can make sense of their orders!

The most inspiring assembly line of lunch preparation is in full swing at every "Potbelly" across the City from 12 noon during the week. If those stores are anything like the one on North Wacker and Randolph, that is.

My store was GOING OFF at lunch time today. And put it this way, I ordered a turkey sandwich with provolone cheese, tomato, mayo, and lettuce - and the woman serving me looked visibly relieved.

Because unlike me, she had been used to preparing the wacked-out, self-indulgent orders of my fellow customers. I'm talking about people who want vegetarian sandwiches, but with one meatball pressed onto one side of the bread, for flavour. And the lady in front of me who wanted a mixed salad sandwich with arugula and provolone with one wheat slice and one white slice of bread.

But no one bats an eyelid there. The service is friendly, fast, and very accurate. Today I walked in and there were 15 people ahead of me, but the guy behind the counter had already served them. So he shrieked at me for my order and, from 3 people deep back in the queue, I had to shout my required sandwich back at him. It was a farce.

And so then I stood back, riveted and fascinated and dumbstruck all at the same time, as I watched how smoothly my sandwich passed from him, through the toaster, to the packing guy, to the condiments lady, to the cashier, to me.

It truly was art. And I shall go back. Oh yes, I shall go back.

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