In our house, Subway plays the role of the last line of defense before the tofu is deployed. When I’m all ready to make my famous (in my own mind) tofu and veggies stir fry for dinner, my husband will often say, with forced casualness, “Dear, you’ve had a long day. If you don’t feel like cooking tonight, you know, I could always just run over to Subway…”

Now, I should tell him that he will eat his gosh-darned tofu, and he will like it, but sometimes I give in to the lazy out he’s giving me. Then I watch as my family consumes subs heaping with cheese and deli meat that probably have more saturated fat than the entire Cheesecake Factory menu put together. I might be a bad homemaker.

Fortunately, Subway’s offerings are a little more extensive than just Italian Double Meat BMTs. It’s got some new offerings this summer, including the Spicy Nacho Chicken Sub. This fairly ambitious sandwich is made with rotisserie-style chicken, green peppers, red onions, jalapenos, cheddar cheese sauce, creamy sriracha, and “SubKrunch.” SubKrunch is a new option at Subway, little fried crunchy bits that add a nice bit of texture.

I was surprised by how much the SubKrunch added to the experience. They were generous with these little things, kind of like French fried onions, and the constant-yet-not-annoying crunch level was fun. You can supposedly add SubKrunch to any existing sub, and I’m curious to see what my favorite tuna sub tastes like with a bunch of crunch added.

Even though there are jalapenos and sriracha, the heat level never gets that high. I felt the heat from the jalapenos on the tip of my tongue as I ate them, but the spiciness didn’t seem to spread through my mouth that much. The cheddar cheese provides a nice contrast, but you don’t get it with every bite; it’s nice when it shows up. I found the chicken really savory and juicy, which was surprising because I haven’t been enamored of Subway’s chicken products in the past. The bread was, well, bread…it didn’t add much flavor, but the sandwich is so packed full of flavor it doesn’t matter. I’m curious if trying it with one of Subway’s other breads would make much of a difference. The veggies just add a bit of texture, I didn’t really taste them, but they added some vitamins, so yaaay?

On the whole, this is a really tasty sandwich. I don’t know if I’d switch out my classic Tuna Sub with veggies for this new guy, but I’d definitely at least consider it—which is saying something if you know just how many Subway Tuna Subs I’ve eaten in my life. But this is all irrelevant because I’m clearly going to start making vegan, home-cooked meals for my family all the time and not give in to the siren song of Subway take-out anymore…except for possibly Thursdays.

Purchased Price: $11.79
Size: Footlong
Rating: 9 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 890 calories. (No other nutritional numbers for the whole sandwich are available on Subway’s website.)

To fully understand Subway’s plight, first, think of the worst thing that has been written about you in the press over the past few years. I’ll give it a second… okay, good.

Next, compare that to the sandwich maven. Earlier this month, the Irish Supreme Court ruled that Subway’s bread has too much sugar to be considered bread. A 2017 Canadian Broadcasting Corporation investigation that found its chicken contains less than 50% actual chicken DNA. And then there was that uh, one guy. You know, the one who lost a bunch of weight and then his freedom.

But there is a lot to be said for convenience (think of all the Subways squished into gas stations on desolate stretches of endless American interstates) and the general laziness of people too tired to make their own sandwiches.

And speaking of laziness, allow me to introduce you to the sub-sandwich mega-chain’s newest offering, Frank’s Red Hot Buffalo Chicken sandwich. Subway says, “this sub includes our tender chicken strips and new Buffalo sauce, made exclusively with Frank’s Red Hot sauce, toasted on your favorite bread and topped with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and ranch dressing.” For the sake of standardization, I ordered mine exactly as they suggest. The bread on the app defaulted to “Italian,” but I ended up with whatever the plainest, whitest, most unimaginative bread offered is.

If you’ve ever had a Buffalo chicken sandwich from any other purveyor of food, you’ve already had this thing, only better. That said, it wasn’t 100% garbage. First, I’ll tell you what I liked: the bread was big and soft and would have made a very cozy sweater. Again, it didn’t taste like much, but it was pleasant to touch. The veggies were very fresh, which, I’ll admit, surprised me some. The lettuce was crisp and the cucumbers added a nice crunch. The tomatoes were small and inoffensive. If things would have stopped there, this sandwich would have been a 7. (And also, very unfulfilling.)

But they didn’t stop there.

Subway suggests that its “new buffalo sauce” is made with Frank’s Red Hot sauce, but to be honest, it just tasted like they mixed up some of Frank’s Buffalo Sauce with a dash of Frank’s Hot Sauce. Though the goopy result added a nice kick, there wasn’t enough of it to give you a real “buffalo wing” experience. Similarly, the ranch added very little. It was there, but quickly lost its footing around the hot sauce, muting the heat and failing to provide any nuance.

And then, the chicken.

Subway’s bird-meat is unnaturally soft, weirdly slippery, and tastes like what an extraterrestrial might guess chicken tastes like just from looking at a chicken alone. There is almost no flavor to it, and it is unsettling how it almost disintegrates in your mouth. Were it not for the occasional bit of gristle, I might have wondered if I hadn’t been tricked by tofu.

And really, tofu would have been much preferred. This sandwich made me uncomfortable, and that’s generally the last quality I look for when grabbing lunch.

Purchased Price: $8.49
Size: 12-inch
Rating: 3 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (12-inch sub) 710 calories, 24 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 110 milligrams of cholesterol, 2720 milligrams of sodium, 79 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, and 47 grams of protein.

When people usually think of pre-formed rib portions, they often think of McDonald’s famed McRib, and rightfully so. Wanting in on that long-running fandom and fanfare that comes maybe once a year, the sandwich artists at Subway are horning in the fake-rib business with the introduction of its BBQ Rib Sandwich.

Using a similar rib-shaped patty to the McRib, Subway’s variation seems more significant, nearly filling the entire six-inch sub I ordered. And while the artisan behind the glass recommended white bread, I instead went with whole wheat. This is where the Subway sandwich begins to differ from McD’s greatly.

The pale patty with fraudulent grill-lines is placed on bread and absolutely slathered with Subway’s somewhat passable barbeque sauce. It is then put into the proprietary space-age super-oven and toasted nicely within a minute. After it’s pulled out, another heavy squeeze of sauce is added. And then comes the cheese and vegetables.

With the McRib, you get it the way the clown wants to give it to you: rib, bun, pickles, slivered onions, and sauce. But with Subway, its method of making the sandwich right in front of you brings this rib patty concoction into a whole new realm of possibilities. In addition to the bread, I also got a few slices of provolone cheese, some fresh tomatoes, red onions, green peppers, and jalapenos.

While it will never be a true BBQ feast, for a fast food sandwich, it is one of the better BBQ sandwich offerings out there. While the patty is less fatty than McDonald’s, there is an easy smoky flavor that is enhanced by Subway’s tomato-rich barbecue sauce. Combined with the melty provolone cheese and various vegetables, it’s like a BBQ dinner in a bun.

With Subway’s BBQ Rib Sandwich, I got better than expected results. It’s available for a limited time, but if it comes back somewhat regularly, like the McRib, I can see myself lining up for a taste year after year after year.

Purchased Price: $4.29
Size: 6-inch sub
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 430 calories, 18 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 590 milligrams of sodium, 47 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, and 19 grams of protein.

I don’t care what the textbooks say. I don’t care about the debates over the Reuben sandwich’s origins: whether it originated from a Nebraskan grocer’s weekly poker ritual or from a New York delicatessen’s signature “Reuben Special.”

In my eyes—and taste buds—the Reuben was obviously invented by Ruben Studdard. I mean, what else could Ruben have been up to after winning American Idol Season 2, while the more famous runner-up Clay Aiken became a Christmas album mainstay in my grandma’s CD player for years?

And before you ask how Ruben could invent the Reuben when the sandwich first appeared in the 1920s, the answer’s time travel. Duh. Next question.

Okay, that explanation may be more impractical than a Reuben Goldberg machine, but I needed a slipshod introduction for a sandwich as slipshod as Subway’s new Corned Beef Reuben. Because as I soon found out, expecting a fast food joint to do justice to the Reuben’s nearly 100-year legacy was a bit unrealistic.

But let’s start with the rye highs. The popularity of Subway’s Italian Herbs & Cheese and Honey Oat breads suggests that consumers like their bread studded with enough stuff to make a BeDazzler blush, and Subway’s new Rye bread fulfills that desire by baking lightly crunchy caraway seeds into every sub.

The bread itself is dense, earthy, and spiced, while the seeds pop with a sweet anise bite. The taste may be slightly too sour for Hawaiian roll or Wonder Bread veterans, but fans of aged, yeasty bread will appreciate its subtleties.

My only gripe is that the rye isn’t marbled, though that kind of doughy swirl might’ve looked too much like a rolled yoga mat for Subway’s liking.

Meat and cheese are this Reuben’s other strongest elements. While the corned beef isn’t particularly juicy, potently peppered, or too different from Subway roast beef, it’s still thick, tender, and salty enough to give the sandwich a savory, meaty twang.

By which I mean you’ll want to twang an acoustic guitar string after each bite.

The Swiss cheese is an underrated, binding force in Subway’s Reuben. It may have all the complexity of a melted Kraft Single, but it still brings creamy dairy balance to the bread and sauerkraut’s sourness.

Speaking of the sauerkraut: it’s bad, and that’s coming from someone who adores sauerkraut enough to give it an honorary seat at his wedding. Subway’s sauerkraut is far too wet, mushy, and flavorlessly acidic, lacking the light crispness and pickled intricacies of good sauerkraut. But I suppose if I were mashed into a cube and left under Subway’s sneeze guard all day, I’d feel sad and squishy, too.

And the Thousand Island Dressing? It’s barely there, providing a light, underlying fatty flavor with faint mayo and tomato notes. I’d say I only tasted three islands at most, and one of those was Rhode Island, whose authentic island status is questionable at best.

Eating the sandwich together, I mostly taste a sour-sweet war between sauerkraut and bread, while the Reuben’s less flavorful, meaty and creamy children beg their parents to stop fighting. It’s far from authentic, and your limited Reuben enjoyment will hinge on your ingredient balance: I recommend going light on ‘kraut, doubling up on cheese, and getting dressing on the side to add at your discretion.

Better yet, take the $5.25 you could’ve spent on a 6” Subway Reuben to Walmart deli and buy enough loose ingredients to assemble a much tastier haphazard Reuben in the parking lot. Just don’t forget to play Clay Aiken’s Merry Christmas with Love in the car while you do it.

(Nutrition Facts – 6” sandwich, no vegetables – 450 calories, 15 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 1770 milligrams of sodium, 42 grams of carbohydrates, 6 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, and 38 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $5.25
Size: N/A
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: BeDazzlingly good rye bread. Guitar strummingly decent corned beef. The complimentarily congealing properties of a Swiss Kraft Single. Parking lot deli sandwiches. Sending my warmest regards to Ruben Studdard, wherever he may be.
Cons: Not authentically Reuben-esque (Reubenic?) enough to justify the cost. Sauerkraut that leaves me sour. Thousand Island Dressing that’s 997 islands short. Not being able to make a “Why? Bread” joke because the bread was actually good.