EW
Elizabeth Whitley
Oct 5, 2025
Look, I came to Panera with dreams—a vision of a glorious, carb-loaded utopia where soup meets bread in perfect, edible harmony. But alas, every time I walk in, hopeful as a kid on Christmas morning, I’m met with the crushing news: “Sorry, we're out of bread bowls.”
Out of BREAD BOWLS? That’s like going to a gas station and them saying, “Oh, we’re fresh out of gas.” Or visiting an aquarium and being told, “Yeah, no fish today.”
Is there a secret Bread Bowl Black Market I don’t know about? Are they being hoarded by a mysterious carb cartel? Or is there just one rogue employee somewhere, sitting atop a mountain of bread bowls like a glutenous dragon?
Panera, I love you, but please—give the people what they want. I didn’t come here for my soup to sit in a plain old bowl like it’s being punished. I came for the thrill, the adventure, the luxury of eating my dish and the dish itself.
Until then, I’ll be at the counter, dramatically sighing, hoping one day, the mythical bread bowl will return. ⭐⭐ (One star for the soup, one star for the dream.)