The Appetizer (or, a taste of backstory)
Nearly two years ago now, back when I was still a freelance writer, I pitched a similar idea to this article to the Sentry after receiving a Subway coupon page featuring a deal for a $6.99 Footlong sandwich. I’d been cutting out these coupons for a while, being one of the only pieces of mail that I could actually use as a campus student with an apartment that doesn’t require (or allow for) a built-in bathtub or the installation of new, top-of-the-line windows. But something about that specific paper stuck with me. A haunting, familiar melody echoed through the back of my mind, like so many earworms before it…
“Five… Five dollar… Five dollar Footlonggggg.”
The Subway corporate team really screwed themselves with that one, didn’t they?
Anyone who was alive and conscious from 2012 to around 2015 would probably be able to recite the “Five Dollar Footlong” jingle by heart with how incessantly the advertisement would plaster itself across every screen in every household in America. Unfortunately for them, times change, and so do the prices of Footlong submarine sandwiches—but the memories of the five-dollar deal will pervade the minds of this generation for years still to come.
At the time, I thought it might be interesting to see how something that was so well known at a specific, five-dollar price point became nearly seven dollars on sale. I wasn’t sure where the article would have taken me, but the pitch ultimately wasn’t chosen. I must admit I wasn’t too heartbroken to not have to do all that research. I continued to cut out the coupons for Subway, and every once in a while, I’d even remember to use one.
Foolishly, I thought that would be the end of it.
Fast forward to this last winter break. My aunt decided to come for a visit, and just so happened to bring with her last month’s Subway coupon page to give to us, in case my family wanted to use it while we were on vacation. I glanced at the paper and immediately had to do a double take.
It had only been a couple of months since the last time I cut out my own Subway coupons. Though I never actually buy a Footlong just for myself, I would tend to make use of the six-inch sandwich coupon, or the six-inch meal deal that included chips and a fountain drink, which I knew by heart to be $3.99 and $6.49, respectively. Those were not the prices I saw.
The new-and-improved Subway coupon deals read in bold, confident lettering,
“Get a 6” for $4.99,” “Get a Footlong for $7.99,” and “Get a 6” meal deal for $6.99.”
To be fair, the six-inch meal deal is still pretty good.
But!
A full dollar increase for the coupons in just a month or two—I felt like these new prices were taunting me and my empty wallet, fading memories of an age gone by. Now, even the six-inch on its own can only be five dollars on sale. The five-dollar Footlong rattles the bars of its cage, never to be freed again.
When the new coupons came the next month, I still cut them out and put them in my bag, just in case.
On an unassuming day in late January, I decided I might as well get a Subway sandwich from the Tivoli. I’d remembered to bring the coupons with me, so I ordered my usual: A six-inch on Italian-herbs-and-cheese bread, toasted, with turkey, provolone, tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, chipotle sauce and mustard. I got to the checkout counter, and asked where I should scan my coupon for the $6.99 meal deal.
That was when I learned the Subway at the Tivoli Student Union is no longer accepting coupons. I got a six-inch sandwich, no sides, no drinks, no extra toppings, for $7.29—plus tax and tip.
I walked away with an emptiness that no amount of toasted sub sandwich would be able to refill.
So, before I finally leave Subway behind forever, I thought I’d figure out for myself exactly how much I’d be missing out on if I do.
Sides and Drinks (the history of Subway, then vs. now)
“The Subway® story began in 1965 when 17-year-old Fred DeLuca asked his family friend, Dr. Peter Buck, a nuclear physicist, for advice on how to pay his college tuition. With an idea to open a submarine sandwich shop and an initial $1,000 investment from Dr. Buck, the two formed a business partnership that would ultimately change the landscape of the quick service restaurant industry.
The partners opened their first restaurant in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in August of 1965, where they served freshly made, customizable and affordable sandwiches to local guests.
The Subway sandwich chain has since grown to the megacorporation we know today—37,000 locations in over 100 countries and millions of customers, a self-proclaimed “global sandwich leader.” In 2022, Subway made $9.18 billion in sales.
Despite its many changes, at Subway’s core (or at least, on the history page on the Subway website), the restaurant’s values have remained the same since it first opened. According to their website, Subway “offer(s) high-quality, flavorful and better-for-you menu options at a great value.”
But what is a great value, really?
For Subway, in 1987, that meant the prices featured on this menu.

$2.89 for a Turkey Breast six-inch, or even a three-meat Footlong Club sandwich for $4.59, seems like a steal of a deal today. In 2025, of course, that same “great value” translates to $7.29 for a six-inch sandwich. More topping, bread, and cheese options, sure, but how does the price actually compare, then to now?
Considering the Subway sandwich started out at $0.49-$0.69 cents in 1965, technically, that would be worth $4.94-$6.96 in 2025. Still less than the actual price of the six-inch.
However, the prices from 1987, even $2.89 for a six-inch turkey breast, would translate to $8.08 in 2025 dollars.
Further, looking at the jump in coupon prices from last year to this year, the 2.5% rise in inflation for food would make for a rise in about 10 cents from 2024 to 2025, not a whole dollar.
These changes in what a “great value” entails are highly inconsistent, but likely reflect the change in scope of the Subway brand as it has continued to grow over these last 60 years.
But when the people actually making the sandwiches are still being paid an average of $12 an hour, and only 24% of the people surveyed working at Subway said they were happy with the amount they were paid, it seems strange that the prices would continue to rise beyond the rates of inflation.
The Main Course (and preferably an affordable one)
All this to say, I’m not going to complain about the prices of something when I haven’t tried to do it myself from scratch, on my own time and money. So, I decided to make my very own Subway-style submarine sandwich— as close to the same Subway order I got for eight dollars as I am able to achieve.
If anyone else wants to follow along at home (or enjoy my very professional food photography skills), here’s what I did, step-by step:
Step One:
Gather all the ingredients from the grocery store, and save the receipt to check later.
- Loaf of Fresh Bread
- Turkey
- Provolone cheese
- Tomatoes
- Lettuce
- Spinach
- One can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
- Mustard (Already present in fridge)
Step Two:
Wait several days and accidentally let the bread almost get too hard to eat.
Step Three:
Remember how to revive the bread back into something edible and sigh in relief now that you don’t have to go back to the store to get more.
Step Four:
Make homemade chipotle sauce, using this nifty recipe!
Step Five:
Sprinkle shredded parmesan/mozzarella cheese and Italian seasoning on top of the revived loaf of bread and bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit until the cheese melts.

Step Six:
Measure out six inches of the bread and cut to Subway standard size.

Step Seven:
Prepare all ingredients for sand-witchery.

Step Eight:
Add the cheese and turkey, then toast it in the preheated oven on the dirty pan you used to bake the bread.

Step Nine:
Spread the chipotle sauce and mustard on the top slice of bread and add the veggies.


Step Ten:
Try not to let the sandwich fall apart before it makes it onto the plate.

Step Eleven:
Plate with your favorite chips and a drink.

Step Twelve:
Enjoy the fruits (and vegetables and grains) of your labor!

(It was very good.)
The next day, I used the leftovers I had already prepped the day before to make a new sandwich for lunch. It was also quite good. A week later, and I’m still using the rest of the fresh ingredients for a wide variety of meals and snacks.

The Price Breakdown:
The following are estimates. I make no claim to be good at math.
- 9-inch loaf of fresh bread: $2.00
Used: 6 inches/$1.33
- 15 slices of Oven-Roasted Turkey: $5.19
Used: 3 slices/$1.04
- 12 slices of Provolone Cheese: $4.29
Used: 2 slices/$0.85
- Four Roma Tomatoes: $2.73
Used: One half of one tomato/$0.34
- One Head of Iceberg Lettuce: $2.49
Used: Part of one leaf/$0.10
- Five Ounces of Spinach: $3.69
Used: One handful/$0.09
- Chipotle Sauce (one half of a 7 oz can of chipotle peppers): $1.10
Used: A dollop/$0.05
- Mustard: In fridge
Used: Nowhere near enough to matter/$0.02
And a Bonus!
- One 16.9 oz bottle of Sprite: $1.17
Drank: ¾ of a bottle/$0.87
- One 5 oz bag of Terra Chips: $4.79
Ate: One handful/$0.24
In the end, this experiment would cost me a larger grocery order of $34.36, though a majority of this accounts for ingredients I will be using for the next month and would have bought on my own time anyway.
As for the sandwich itself, in comparison to the $7.29 six-inch Subway sandwich, I spent a grand total of…
$3.82.
Add the bottle of Sprite and chips to the equation, and the entire meal still comes out to $4.93. If you add the $3.69 for a fountain drink or bottle of soda, and $1.59 for a bag of chips, you would be paying $12.57 plus tax and tip for a six-inch meal at Subway today.
Of course, this equation doesn’t account for labor. Not including the time it took to gather the ingredients, from beginning to end, my experiment took me about half an hour to be ready to eat. Take the generous wage of 12 dollars per hour that the Subway workers get paid, and technically that’s another six dollars to add to the cost of my sandwich— but the total still ends up at $10.93, still almost two dollars less than the name-brand meal and still 30 minutes that I don’t mind spending making a pretty decent sandwich for myself.