Pastrami

Subway Pastrami so bad I had to blog about it

I gave Subway ten bucks and got back a dollar and a pile of boogers on a bun

Under protest I joined my lunch comrades for a Subway run. I figured I'd be a high roller today and get the Pastrami foot-long, an eight-dollar investment with the hopeful payoff that there might me some actual taste to this meat, instead of the reconstituted, pre-sliced kitchen sponge they offer at more tolerable prices.

On my first bite I got a flake of pretty decent-tasting pastrami nestled in layers of smooshy fat. I figured it was a fluke so I pressed on. Nope, same thing. Blobs of globules.

About halfway into the sandwich (yes, I kept eating. Hey, it was eight bucks!) I started to hit some real tricky bits that had the presumed meat marbled with more firm slabs of grizzle and fat. And the grease - oh, the grease - it really started oozing out of the sides.

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