If depression was a sandwich, they’d make it at Blimpie. Every Blimpie I’ve been to is worse than the one before it. This one has horrendous florescent lighting, suspect cleanliness and a bunch of homemade signs that make the Qur’an seem like an easy read. Adding to the lovely flavor is the open trash bullpen, with the cans actually sharing the dining space with the patrons. The lack of care put into this place is almost offensive in its completeness. If it is even remotely possible, the turkey meat may actually be of lower quality than that of Subway. Like most crappy chain sandwich shops, the bread is more important than the actual content of the sub. If the bread is fresh, it’s not awful, but a repeat meal at this place will probably only come if every other restaurant in the city crumbled to dust or I get a sudden craving for roach droppings. [MF]
210 W 50th St.
