If your palate craves international fare, Tandoor Indian Restaurant (5024 University Way NE, 523-7477, www.tandoor-india.com) is happy to bring its Indian cuisine directly to your lazy ass. Its website features two delivery specials—vegetarian ($21.95) and nonvegetarian ($23.95)—that include two entrées, basmati rice, one bread, one appetizer, and one small rice pudding. My order arrived in 45 minutes and, save for the tiny container of rice pudding, all of the food arrived still hot. (Breaking into a samosa with my fork, I was delighted to see steam pour out.) The deceptively named butter chicken was well seasoned, just spicy enough, and the perfect complement to the subtler saag paneer, a creamy dish of spinach and cheese. The garlic-and-basil naan, which I used to eat the saag paneer, was a bit disappointing, as it was chewy and slightly damp, having suffered for the worse from its encasement in aluminum foil. Even though the delivery special, with its complimentary overabundance of rice, was plenty of food for two, I opted to supplement my meal with the chicken tandoori ($9.95), a sort of Indian barbecue that was tender, smoky, and succulent—so good that I considered rubbing it into my face and neck in hopes of absorbing its magical powers.

If, on the other hand, you're in need of something less... everything, then perhaps Jimmy John's Gourmet Subs (4141 University Way NE, 548-9500, www.jimmyjohns.com) is what you're looking for. Marked with the unnerving slogan "Free Smells," the Jimmy John's website showcases a menu of standard sub-shop fare, with names like the Sorry Charlie or the Country Club. I called in an order for the Billy Club (roast beef, ham, and provolone, $6.50) and the Vito (Genoa salami, capicola, and provolone, $6.50), and although the menu says you have a choice of French or whole-wheat bread, the guy on the phone never asked. Twenty minutes later, my sandwiches arrived, but within seconds I experienced profound disappointment. Any sandwich named after the Godfather should have—to use a culinary term—balls. The flavor of the Jimmy John Vito, with its anemic salami and unremarkable ham, would have benefited from the addition of actual testicles. After adding my own olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, and oregano, the Vito became enjoyable. The Billy Club was a step up, but still lacked anything distinguishing itself as flavor. For a side, I chose what the website lists as "Jimmy Chips" ($1.09) but turned out to be Tim's Cascade chips, which are good but nothing special. However, the Jimmy pickles ($1.09) are, in fact, superb, with a satisfying crunch and a tear-inducing sourness that rescued the meal from total calamity. Jimmy John's also scored points with its delivery driver, a young shaggy-haired emo type who looked like he'd just been freshly snogged and deserved it.