Dear Subway,

I have been a loyal customer of yours since June 2, 1998. I ate a foot-long turkey club on white bread and I never looked back. I've ordered one every day since then. Some people told me it was a waste of money. I could easily just make the sandwich myself. But they were wrong. Your bread had something special, something different. It had a spring to it, a bounce, if you will. I've come to find out that it this airiness was due to the plant additive, azodiacarbonamide.

That same azodiacarbonamide used to produce air in yoga mats and shoe soles is the same azodiacarbonamide I have come to not only expect in  my foot-long turkey club, but to love. And now you are threatening to remove my favorite chemical after some 57,000 people signed some stupid petition. Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. When my husband left me for a much younger woman and when I lost my job, I felt out of control, but there was always one constant in my life and that was your yoga-matty bread. I would find myself in Subway, eating alone, but feeling like I had a friend. A friend I couldn't talk to, but could chew on for longer than I could chew on any other bread, because of the intense rubberiness. And that prolonged chew is exactly what I needed to help me deal with my rage, confusion and sadness. I didn't just find a home in your bread. I found myself. And please know I'm not just speaking for myself when I say, if I can't bite into bread without thinking, "Wow, that tastes synthetic, foamy, and air-filled." What's the point?

Sure, I've seen you change and grow over the years. I stood by you when you introduced Jared Fogle and his health conscious attitude in January 2000. I was there with a smile and open arms when you jumped on the avocado bandwagon in March 2011. Throughout these changes, however, you remained true to yourself. You still had that subway scent I was accustomed to. You still had that springy bread I craved. The bread that made me feel like I practically went to a yoga class, my teeth and tongue doing downward dog and chatarongas to get through each aerated, azodiacarbonamide-filled bite. Taking this bread away from me and all the other azodiacarbonamide lovers is something I refuse to support. And it pains me to see a company I thought was strong and confident in itself be brought down by bullies. 

I'm writing to you today, not just to tell you my feelings of betrayal and profound sadness, but to beg you to stop with this ridiculous removal process. Don't listen to that food blogger and the 57,000 other people that signed her petition. They're crazy. They wouldn't know good bread if they bit it with their own teeth and ate it with their mouth. Listen to me. The person whose eaten the same lunch at your restaurant for 16 years, without fail, even when she was sick. And I'd like to take my request a step further, add more azodiacarbonamide to your bread. Or better yet, stop serving bread altogether. Just give me azodiacarbonamide with a thin slice of turkey.

Take a look at yourself in the mirror, Subway. Without azodiacarbonamide do you even like what you see? Because I don't. Bread without azodiacarbonamide makes me want to vomit. Though you may be gaining 57,000 customers when you take out this chemical from your bread, you will also be losing your number one customer, me. 



Eliza Hurwitz


P.S. I've got a couple signatures for a petition to stop the removal of azodiacarbonamide. Some are from cats and I hope that's okay.