Kristoffer M.

This isn't a review. It's a reminder to my future self to STOP EATING HERE. It's five in the morning, I've gotten a few hours of good sleep, while being wide awake for the remainder of the morning with gastric distress, or as some would call, the bubble guts. I've been downing the pink stuff, hoping for some relief, vividly recalling the last time this happened, and the time before that, and that other time ... and a couple times before that. No, this isn't the first time I've done this, but hopefully it'll be the last. I want to remind myself that even though I have an iron stomach and can eat anything under the sun with blatant disregard to "consequences", maybe these ingredients truly have never seem the light of day. I've met my match. Truth be told, I don't normally eat here, with the high prices being the main reason. Nowhere else in Southfield can you go and pay over $10 for a sandwich, a small order of fries, and a drink, with such a disdainful outcome in quantity and taste. You can literally buy a roast beef sandwich at twice the price of Arby's and actually feel sorry for your own tongue, subjecting it to such a monstrosity. And they put iceberg lettuce on it of all things! What was my poison of choice yesterday? The "Powerhouse". A sandwich with bleu cheese and a bunch of different meats. Don't forget a layer of nasty white iceberg lettuce! I've had it before without any issues, but the food here is hit or miss. While eating it, I had an odd, unexplainable urge to stop. The sandwich wasn't good, but it also was at least edible, or so I thought. The other half of the sandwich sat there saying, in a small, timid voice, "eat me," and "there are poor kids in China ... and Southfield." Little did I know that I was most likely hallucinating at this point, and that talking back to a sandwich doesn't exactly score sanity points with the co-workers. Alas, the name "Powerhouse" fits the sandwich well. After all, The Powerhouse creates gas, gas creates power, thus the name. I like the staff here. They're the reason why I've waited years to write a review, because I truly wish the best to them. The cost to value here though simply isn't worth it, and the chance of losing half a night's sleep isn't worth it either. I get a true sense of regret every time I spend money here, although a little less for breakfast. Your money is better spent driving to the Coney Island just a mile south down Lahser. Or better yet, drive a little further to Stackerz and get you an absolute home run meal for the same price you'll spend at Metro Deli. The convenience of walking this place has lost its charm to me completely now. I want my sleep back, and I do believe it's time for more of the pink stuff.