The Sub Station 
 Wadsworth, Ohio        Date of Visit  08/28/10            No Known Website

With all of the development in Wadsworth in the past ten years, there are still a few small local places that have open signs in their doors. One of those is the Sub Station located right on the square downtown. I often wondered how they fare with three large franchises open on the same block and other local competition. Especially true with a Subway having opened across the street, obviously vying hard for the same traffic. It’s been years since I had ventured inside so we decided to give it a try for a weekend lunch. Like many small town business fronts the restaurant is quaint, baskets, train memorabilia, solid if not particularly comfortable furniture. The menu has what you might expect from a sub shop with about 20 varieties available. There were a couple of other folks inside when we arrived and walked up to the counter.
 

Entirely Over-priced Flavor Redemption
 

From this point on I began to wonder both to myself and out loud how in the world this place stays open. Best I can figure they hit the lottery or are fencing farm equipment and electronics on the side.

After waiting a few minutes at the counter listening to the ominous quiet a couple of folks appeared from the back. I don’t mind a short wait but you might do yourself favors by welcoming people bringing you business promptly and trying much, much, harder to avoid every non-verbal cue that broadcasts “Oh my God! What do they want!?!” Our order taker certainly appeared disinterested in the days events, but we managed to get an order in and take a seat. We ordered a half mushroom steak, a half Italian, a small chef salad, small fries and a small zucchini. First the good stuff. The steak sandwich was messily but relatively flavorful, but nothing necessarily notable. The zucchini were okay as well. Unfortunately the Italian really had no distinguishing flavor at all which is odd for Italian cured meats. The bread is just as unremarkable adding little to the experience. The fries are an embarrassment, cold, tasteless mush-sticks. The salad was left for the end and it turns out it was the only thing where you could tell the cook was putting something into it.

Steph doesn’t eat many tomatoes so seeing one beneath the surface I forked it out and was about to throw it down my gullet when Steph made a face and reached over and pulled out a nine inch hair that was winding it’s way through the salad. The cook really did put herself into the salad. Epic Failure. You also pick up your own food and bus your own table, which in an empty place, an extra step of effort might make someone feel they would want to return. Before we found the hair, the cook walked towards our booth, to ask how things were I thought at first, but she strolled by us without acknowledgement and stood at the front window and watched people walk in and out of the Subway across the street for ten minutes before disappearing back in the kitchen. Yes, competition is always a concern. Competition is not the problem here, however. The triumvirate of immanent doom is careless and tastless food, miserable attitude and customer services, and prices almost three times the competition across the street. Maybe if they turned around and looked inside instead of pining out the window they might have a chance. As it is, I’m looking forward to what might take their place.

 

 
Looks Good From A Distance...

MMMMMmmmmmmmm......... Goodbye
 

Yes, mistakes happen in restaurants, I've committed several of them. Fundamental customer service suggests if you are not perfect, you need to check in with your customers to make sure they are happy and when you make a mistake you will be able to attempt a fix. I felt so unwanted from the get-go that I didn't care if they knew about the hair. They obviously didn't care. So instead of winning me over, I will never return. From the looks of the dining room, we are legion.

Sing it with me...

Five...Five Dollar...Five Dollar Footlongs.

Hey, it's not Dinic's or Pat's King of Steaks or Chaps Pit Beef but the five dollar foot long blows The Sub Station out of the water. I can only hope the next time I stop in the Subway, I can see a face staring out the window from across the street.