On Our Masochistic Relationship with Baoguette

Very rarely will we use this sacred platform to publicly beg for the mercy of an institution that isn’t the government or Nikki Finke, but here we are, asking New York sandwich-shop-of-the-moment, Baoguette, to step up their game. Here’s our plea.

Dear Baoguette,

Yes, you should know by now — the day of sandwich reckoning has arrived. The world has gone sandwich-crazy. Your competition is tough, and they will come at you with everything they’ve got. We here at BlackBook choose you, however, for the following reasons. (1) Your take on the bahn-mi is brilliant. The bread you use is nothing short of exceptional, and the range of spices you serve within them are complex enough to stymie even the most discerning palates around here. (2) You’re priced appropriately for us; we’re broke magazine staffers, and your $5/sandwich rate makes us feel good about spending money eating out. (3) We like to cheer for the little guy, and your concept, which we once skeptically viewed as DOA, took us by storm. And we’re not the only ones who like you. But please, don’t make us quit you. Your delivery service might possibly be the worst we’ve experienced in New York. No joke.

See, we’re stuck in our offices sometimes, and we have to order in to get delivery. We’ve ordered from you a bunch of times, and despite the hour-plus time it’s taken sometimes after you tell us it’ll be here in “a few minutes”, despite not giving us napkins, hot sauce, or forgetting some of the things we’ve ordered (but being charged for them), despite the fact that we order from you all the time and you still have no idea who we are, we still called you yesterday for lunch.

But making us text-message you our order — what?! — and not sending us a confirmation was pretty strange. Totally neglecting to include hot sauce and napkins (again!) was kind of preposterous, as was totally forgetting one of the soups we ordered and having no idea what we were talking about when we called in to ask about the special on your own bizarre website.

Come on, Baoguette. Step up your game. We like you, and we want the world to like you. But for the love of God, do something about your abysmal service. You’re killing us.

Best,

BlackBook Staffers

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