it truly was the sandwich of sandwiches
Once again my lengthy travels around this earth have yielded another discovery. In the great tradition of the Pizziola and the Squagel comes another entry into the unnecessarily wordy fast food menu item dictionary...the "Frescata."

After lunch plans at work fell though, following much personal deliberation and consideration, I decided to trek outside to find myself something to eat. I'm trying to save money, so low cost was the first priority, closely followed by the health factor, and finally distance to the office mattered as well. All signs pointed to Wendy's, whose salads have always been a staple of my attempted health conscious diet. Luckily, beating out a bus full of tourists, I quickly approached the counter, fully confident in my menu choice: a Spinach chicken salad. However, my eye caught the glimmer of something new, and no sooner did my sureness in the salad decision evaporate. A new menu tablet shown brightly, its white hot light calling me towards it, like the forgotten commandments left on that mountain so many years ago. FRESCATA. My mind swirled with doubt and confusion. Deli sandwiches at Wendy's? What is going on here? Had I unknowingly walked into an Arby's? No, the red hair pigtailed girl assured me of my location. FRESCATA. It's promise of fresh cold cuts, vegetables, and spreads drawing me in. Roasted turkey, peppers and pesto...roasted ham and swiss; its shockingly diverse content further engulfing me. FRESCATA. With my mind made up, my lips slowly began forming the syllables of a foreign word, like the first time profanity was uttered by man. It was taboo, unknown, with the weight of its meaning far beyond the realm of our language. FRESCATA. There it lay, within the confines of a brown paper pouch, a plastic window giving a mere glimpse of its true substance. Sealing it in a conventional Wendy's bag, I hurried out, fearful of the consequences of my actions. FRESCATA. Its strong presence was obvious on the drive back whilst it sat next to me in the front seat. I threatened to throw it in the back but I knew better not to anger it. It was smart, cunning; it knew that I was unsure, that I was afraid of its freshness. FRESCATA. I slowly sat at my desk, taking special care as not to drop the package. It seemed even more imposing now, staring back at me through its film, asking me to release it. Finally...I did. The true breadth of my purchase was now exposed for all to see. I understood I was bearing witness to something unbelievable; something forged by God himself. FRESCATA. Building up enough courage, I gently grasped its being. It was heavy...far heavier then I could ever imagine. I could feel its heat as I brought it close to my mouth, its sweet aroma being carried by the waves of its aura. No, I couldn't do it. It was too beautiful in its complete form. I flashbacked for a moment to my childhood, of all those times I ate a sandwich and never once thought twice about it. It was different now. There was more at stake this time. I am a man, no longer a mere child. With force I bit down as hard as I could, each layer piercing under the strength of my bite. I allowed it to stay on my tongue before I began ravaging it with my teeth. The ingredients mixed in my mouth forming a paste of complex flavoring. It was satisfying. It was tasty. It was FRESCATA.

They should have sent a poet to Wendy's today, for I have not done it justice.

QUICK NOTE: The sandwich was ok.