A dead bad sandwich in Deptford

Marks out of 8billion

Sarnies rule. They are one of the greatest things ever - so why is it so hard to get a good one?
I went to the reasonably-vaunted Deptford Project for a bank holiday treat of a cup of coffee and a bit of dinner (lunch if you're posh). The coffee - cappuccino with semi-skimmed milk - was fantastic, but the sandwich was an abomination.
First off they didn't have any chicken - the sandwich choice was basic at best: egg, bacon, ham - so I went for ham salad on thick white bread. The ham and salad wasn't awful but the bread was almost stale. If I dished this up at home it'd get lashed in my face, and rightly so. Normally I'd send it back but they were short staffed and it had took about 30 minutes to arrive and I couldn't be arsed waiting for another.
I ate it like. I was starving, and to be fair I was offered reparation when I pointed out after that the bread was rubbish, but it's what this represents that's the problem. The Deptford Project sells quiche apparently, but I don't want quiche - I want a sarnie. A big one. On event bread.
So why couldn't I have one? Because there is a fundamental, cultural problem in this country. The sandwich should be cherished, revered. It should be every bit as important as a good cup of tea.
As it is, sarnies are the runt of the commercial grub world, chucked out with contempt on shit bread with piddly fillings.
New York has it right, and it starts with the bread. If you're selling food and your sarnies are on basic sliced bread - brown or white - then you're a disgrace. Yes, YOU Peter de Wits cafe in Greenwich with your 'best ingredients' piffle - FIVE POUNDS for a chicken salad sarnie? For shame!
You are out of your mind - if I pay a flim for sandwich then it better be one of the wonders of the world. I want people gathering round it in awe, talking in hushed tones. And let me tell you, food-fans, the chicken salad one I had at de Wit's was moderate at best.
That was a year ago, and I'm still livid about it. The Deptford Project said they'll sort me out next time I go, which is nice, but the problems run deeper than that. Sort your act out, food sellers of Great Britain.