A food named for its size sets a certain expectation. When you order a McDonald's Quarter Pounder, or Taco Bell's Acre of Beans, you expect volume and satisfaction.
Could the Two Bagger from Lucky's Sandwich Co. here in Chicago, topped with corned beef, pastrami, cole slaw, french fries and cheese, promise even more?
Eva: Two Bags are the only clothes that fit me now.
Robert: Should I be worried they got the two bags out of the front seat pocket of an airplane?
Miles: There's nothing worse for marketing than naming your sandwich after the worst thing my dog can do on a walk.
Ian: Two Bagger is a good sandwich/name for a sequel to that Will Smith golf movie.
Mike: Yeah, and it's big enough they should offer a caddy to carry the Two Bagger. Then you just ask for different parts: a piece of pastrami, some slaw or a pitching wedge.
Miles: I think the fact that the sandwich doesn't actually fit in your mouth is nature's way of telling you "STOP IT."
Peter: If this were the only food source, then humans would evolve bigger mouths. We'd all look like Anne Hathaway.
Ian: There's something special about a sandwich wrapped in paper. These days, the kids wrap their sandwiches in email and it's just not the same.
Robert: That was paper?
[The verdict: a delicious sandwich, really enhanced by great, soft bread. The fries, though, are unnecessary, adding little more than a dynamic stretching workout for your jaw.]
Sandwich Monday is a satirical feature from the humorists at Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me!
Copyright 2021 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.