If you’re getting Arby’s sandwiches like I used to get, FX45, my heart goes out to you. You can’t rant enough, as far as I’m concerned. In the 1960s, their sandwiches were ample – not as huge as portrayed in their posters, but within the realm of reasonable hype: you could imagine they were the same sandwich.
You asked about national standards. Obviously that’s up to each corporate HQ. McD, BK and KFC have standardized portions, but prices vary by locality. Many chains advertise their prices nationally, but are less stringent on portion size. I’ve seen variations in the portion size listed on menus of the casual sit-down chains (I know a franchise that doesn’t list their chain’s usual 12 oz steak, but has a 10 oz “Manager’s special” every day at the same price. I wonder if HQ knows?)
Sadly, the only way to enforce any standards is to refuse to eat there, which is often a lose-lose, because the franchise owner or corporate HQ refuses to take the hint, until they have to close the restaurant. That almost happened to Arby’s once. If you want to start a letter campaign, I’d be your first follower.
In the late 70’s/early 80’s, their standard sandwich shrank to under 2 oz of meat (to “compete” with fast food burgers) and their big sandwich was under 4oz, like the after-cooking weight of a Whopper. A hot roast beef sandwich isn’t a burger, why should it have exactly the same amount of meat? They certainly didn’t cost the same? (According to the corporate website, they were $0.79 in 1964, when a McD burger was $0.15 in some areas, like Atlanta, where I lived)
It loked ludicrous before they shrank their bun and packaging, the meat could barely make 2 thin layers across the bun. There’s no physical way it could have been rearranged to produce the piled-high sandwiches in the posters of the era, even if pumped full of styrofoam. As a child, I’d always had to carefully re-layer the meat from its a dismal lump in the middle, just to get beef in every bite. As served, the beef was a bite and a half in from every edge.
Every Arby’s in Greater Boston (where the chain had gotten its idea) went out of business. It took 15 years of failed efforts before a few successfully re-seeded on I-495, about 20 miles outside of town, and I only noticed because my ex stopped at one once, and their jamocha shakes became my son’s favorite special treat. Otherwise, I would have have passed them by with a sneer and a sigh. Apparently a lot of other people felt the same: they completely revamped their marketing policies and image about 10 years ago. I noticed that sandwich sizes seem to have gone up since, at the one I see (in a huge food court in Nashua NH, where it faces stiff competition).
Corporate HQ may have realized they couldn’t cost-cut their way out of trouble. As they lost business, they cut more until they were charging for extra packets of their trademark “Horsey Sauce”, though one packet wouldn’t cover an entire bun. They’re more profitable now that they no longer put stingy limits on their patron’s enjoyment of their flagship products.
I’m no fan of how we Americans supersize everything, but why would I eat somewhere that only offers a mockery of their trademark specialty?
Other posters are correct about the legal standards, but I’ve always felt this standard was a crock - nationally institutionalized fraud, sustained by the power of the chains. A picture doesn’t show weight; it shows appearance - that’s the only claim it makes. Enforcing weight standards is quite prudent if weight claims are made. I’ve never seen a weight claim made for Arby’s- how can an unlisted weight be the enforceable standard? (if it’s enforced at all)
It’s like saying the photos shown by a dating service only need to show people with the same IQ as the actual members - though IQ isn’t listed in the profiles. Sure, numbers are easier to enforce, but that’s a a cop out. Can someone offer a cite of the law that sets standards for advertising images? I suspect that it’s just a vaguely worded, unenforceable “substantially similar” clause that no one even checks. A bowl of soup with marbles doesn’t have the same volume or weight as the bowl served, and I seriously doubt there’s a special soup exemption – and they don’t even give us the marbles. Imagine that McDonald’s tried doubling the apparent volume of their shakes this way. They wouldn’t dare - people actually bother to sue them; they’ve lost too many lawsuits in the past.
Of course, you wouldn’t hear about most such cases. They’d either be settled out of court (e.g. by a fine and consent decree with the state AG; a common trend in “consumer protection cases”) or McD would agree to reimburse consumers by distributing discount coupons - essentially a promotion, that comes out of their marketing budget, instead of a penalty. I’ve recieved those from many class action suits, where I wouldn’t do business with the defendant company again. The important thing is that the plaintiff or class action attorney collects their stiff fees.
I think the cookie-cutter franchise culture kills many promising businesses, mainstreaming them away from whatever made them unique in the first place (why *should8 a roast beef sandwich have the same amount of meat as a burger - they sure don’t cost the same!) and creating a bulk-savings mentality. One poster noted that a "portion was .09 lb at their company. How much do you want to bet that was originally 0.1 lb, until HQ calculated the saving so shaving off 10%?
At the Stage Deli on Broadway in NYC, every sandwich was at least as big as pictured – often very substantially bigger: they don’t want to disappoint. Somr of them literally looked like they would fall over. You admire the skill of the waitress in carrying them to the table, and had to disassemble them to fit them in your mouth. One would easily feed two hungry people, and everyone took home leftovers. I always made it a point to swing by when I was in town
They went franchise a few years back, using the same pictures on their posters and menus, but the franchise sandwiches were ‘normal sized’. One opened near me. While the original is almost always packed (even after cranking the prices up to around $13-20/plate), the franchise was empty except during lunch rush. The entie chain went belly-up within about 2 years, leaving only the original in NYC, and their first branch (which wasn’t franchise-style) in Atlantic City.