Dear sandwich makers, producers, artists and experimenters of the city and the world over,
On behalf of the sarnie lovers of the country, let us first state that we salute you.
You remind us of simpler, pre-sweat patch times, when such treats would be delivered to us by the lunchbox stork, the possibility of a wheeled-in-telly was always pretty high, and our biggest worry was whether or not we’d make it home in time for The Morbegs.
You provide us with the tastiest, most nutritious and most efficient lunches we could possibly ask for – and you do not spit in our food when we ask for it gluten free, dairy free, with double pickles and triple notions. No mean feat.
Most of us have, at one time or another, worked in the service industry, and we understand that you guys have a lot to deal with – in a very short amount of time, and probably only two square feet to do it in.
You also have to deal with the worst species on Earth – hungry, sassy humans, and for that, we truly believe that you deserve a medal. Made out of Ferrero Rocher. And this painting of an owl, by Don Conroy.
But, there’s one thing that’s putting quite a substantial barrier between you and us. One thing that’s making it hard for us to live with, cope with and impossible for us to indulge in buying lunch every day – and that’s your prices.
We understand that rent is up, that competition is high and the world is generally quite tough to be in at the minute. Trust us, we don’t own proper rain gear, our black jeans never stay black and we pay €800+ to live in a cold box every month. We get it.
But we just can’t get to grips with the world’s humblest and most basic food group costing the guts of a tenner.
And having to break a €20 to indulge in a BLT, packet of crisps and bottle of water almost breaks our tiny sandwich-loving hearts.
Trust us when we say we also take into consideration that certain ingredients may be expensive, even to buy in bulk. Steak, for example. But a glorified chicken fillet roll with added avocado shouldn’t force us to take out a second mortgage.
Now, you can’t do it without us, and we certainly can’t do it without you – so we want to propose some sort of compromise.
How about you lower your sandwich prices, and we’ll promise to tuck in every single day. We’ll even buy for the whole office. And tell our friends. And tell our friends to tell their friends. It will be a sandwich revolution!
But we need you to help us out. Ya dig?
So please tell us that you’re picking up what we’re putting down and are somewhat willing get on board with the affordable sambo vibes.
Until then, we hope you’ve listened.
Sammich lovers of Dublin