Petrol stations don't instantly summon up visions of a place where edible treats are available in abundance. I rarely, if ever, eat from them. In recent years there has been a sudden trend for tagging on cafes in an attempt to make you believe that food there is actually good. Maybe it's just me but buying a sandwich in the same vicinity as motor oil doesn't really appeal. I imagine them to be dry and skanky and reserved for those who drive white vans (call me a snob if you like, but I bet it's true!)
Today I am trialling Wild Bean Cafe's festive offering. To be fair, I don't mind Wild Bean Cafe. I have tried their steak bakes on a couple of early morning runs and enjoyed them (minus the white van naturally!)
As always the refrigerator in this particular petrol station is in the corner at the back (heaven forbid someone might spot me, right? <wink>) There is a packed cabinet today. Many sandwiches, including the one I'm collecting, are on 50% off "reduced to clear" (it's about to go out of date). I hope this isn't a prophecy of what is to come.
As soon as I see the sandwich, I literally recoil in horror. Is that awful of me? I'm not trying to be judgemental just because I can be and I write a blog review. I honestly do not like the look of this sandwich. The cranberry has a very pink unnatural tinge to it and the lettuce (yes, lettuce, which we all know is a cardinal sin in festive sandwiches) is actually of the iceberg variety <shock> and going brown (wrong on so many levels!) A positive thing I can say though is the packaging is genuinely quite attractive. In an "on trend" postage paper brown box with maroon label at least it's different from the usual red design I am normally greeted with.
I'm not particularly looking forward to this sandwich. I open it up gingerly. I give it a sniff and it has, bizarrely, a distinct whiff of nail polish remover. I promise I'm not making this up. It really smells like that to me. I feel a bit ill. Visually there is plenty of filling. I am not sure if this is a good thing. The bacon looks anaemic. The frightful pink of the cranberry has seeped into the bread and the iceberg lettuce is really bothering me. I'm half inclined to not take a bite at all but fairs, fair in the world of festive sandwich reviews and therefore it would be rude not to. I take a tentative nibble. Two mouthfuls later and I refuse to eat anymore. I can't really describe what this sandwich tastes of. Mostly I think it tastes like the breathing in of strong fumes from industrial cleaning products. Maybe they washed the lettuce in bleach? Or the ink from the cardboard has infiltrated the bread somehow? Who knows? It just does not taste right at all.
As the remains of the sandwich plop into my bin I sum up the benefits. The trial is over. I didn't pay full price. I get to eat something for lunch other than a turkey sandwich. I don't drive a white van...
Verdict: Appallingly bad. My advice? Only eat this sandwich if your life depends on it.
Rating: 2 out of 10
No comments:
Post a Comment