Subs incoming! Welcome, Jersey Mike

Perhaps it's my Rock Dude history, wherein I spent 14 years basically subsisting on quick-access cheap eats and whatever was open after the bars closed. (Still love ya, Circle K in Odessa, Texas, with your microwave chicken fried steak hoagie in brown gravy!)

And I still have fond affection for and— some would say— an eerie-bordering-on-encyclopedic knowledge of fast food franchises.

It's odd, then, that I ended up in New England, which Solzhenitsyn might have described as the Gulag Archipelago of fast food. Indeed, of over 100 fast food restaurant chains prospering in the U.S., New England is pretty much only represented by a small-core contingency of staples like McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's and Taco Bell— with Dairy Queen, Arby's, Sonic and Popeye's slowly starting to trickle in.

I'm not the only person who takes note of such things, though. Do you remember when the Popeye's outlet in New London opened on Colman Street? It required a guy directing traffic to accommodate the lines queued up. I know; Iwas there. (Note: for some reason, the Colman Street Popeye's has deleted both the jambalaya and chicken and sausage gumbo fromtheir menu. What the hell?! Is that a New England thing?!)

But I soldier on. Last fall, on the day a Jersey Mike's Subs restaurant debuted in Waterford Commons, I showed up with my pal and colleague, Pete Huoppi, to see what Mike could literally bring to the table. I distinctly remember Huoppi's post-lunch comment, which was, "It's pretty good. But in the area where the grinder was invented, why would anyone come to a chain restaurant?"

Fair point. In New London alone there are several wonderful Mom 'n' Pop and stand-along grinder shops. And yet ... Jersey Mike's IS pretty good. For one thing, on the cold subs, there's an applique of "The Juice," which is Mike's signature blend of an olive oil blend fused with red wine vinegar. Relatively unique and quite tasty.

For another, Mike has a carving station right where you order and you get to watch the server custom-slice meats of high-quality before your eyes. There are no pre-existing piles of glistening lunch meat that have been heaped in bins for who knows how long.

How it works at Mike's is that you enter the shotgun shack-shaped storefront (an old Subway location, btw) and form a line to the right. You U-turn at the meat-slicing station, deliver your order, then make your way through the veggie/ condiment section, accessorizing your sandwich or wrap to taste, and finally move on to the cashier. If you're dining in, there are three rows of tables, booths and high-top counters with two suspended televisions tuned, on my visits, to nothing any Thinking Person would want to watch.

As for the food, Mike divides his menu into hot and cold subs, "sub in a tub" salads, chicken cheesesteaks, featured subs of the month, and wraps. The rolls are baked on the premises and are soft and chewy with just enough support crust that the messier sandwich components won't melt through. In addition to "The Juice," cold subs typically come "Mike's Way," which is with onions, lettuce, tomatoes and a secret spice that seems oregano based. Here's what I've tried: The Original Italian ($5.95 mini, $8.25 regular and $14.25 giant— the latter being truly huge)— A generous layering of provolone, prosciuttini, ham, cappacuolo, salami and pepperoni, expertly apportioned so the subtle but distinct flavors of each tickle your tongue with every bite. If the Italian is indeed the definitive or "official" grinder, Jersey Mike does a very nice job— and, yes, "The Juice" puts a subtle but appreciated DNA stamp on it.

Tuna Fish ($5.45, $7.50, $13.75) — Avery mediocre offering. The tuna-to-mayo ratio was distorted heavily to the glop side of the spectrum, and the fish had that faint metallic tang one sometimes gets with canned tuna.

Barbecue Beef ($8.25, $14.25, hot subs come in two sizes)— The basic idea is sound in this Featured Sub of the month. The beef was lean and flavorful; I suspect it's the regular roast beef heated up and basted with a perhaps too sweet barbecue sauce. I didn't want any lettuce or tomatoes— just Swiss cheese— so perhaps that accounted for the fact that, while therewas a nice clump of meat, the absence of any other toppings made the roll overly large. My original bite was just bread. Once I got into it, though, the sandwich was enjoyable.

Baja Chicken Wrap ($8.25, one size only for wraps)— I had the least expectations for this, and it ended up being the favorite ofmy Mike's experiences. You can choose froma variety of wraps and I opted for a tomato-basil. Itwas a perfect flavor addendum to a savory heap of breast chunks, fresh and spicy coins of jalapeno, American cheese — I thought itwas an odd choice but its distinct qualities worked— bold salsa and shredded lettuce. Every bite of this was a pyrotechnic confluence of fun.

I don't knowthat I'd travel from New London to Waterford Commons just to get a sub from Jersey Mike. But if I'm shopping over there or just in the neighborhood, I know I can get a reliably competitive sandwich there.

And so we beat on, boats against the fast food currents ...