Peripatetic Paninaros push pallid product

I was walking through my local high street at around lunchtime when I was offered a promotional panini (sic) by a woman in a tabard. The jostling throng hurried me along before I could properly say thank you, which gave me some passing discomfort, but nothing compared to that conferred by the 'panini' proper, which was composed of heavy glutinous ciabatta, sweaty cubes of cheese and a square piece of ham, the entire sandwich innocent of butter and seasoning. Some questions were raised.
1 - Assuming the sandwich was supposed to be eaten as it was, why would Ugo's (that, as far as I remember was the company name) go to the expense of handing out free samples when palatability is clearly not the bankable suit of the product?
2 - Assuming that the sandwich was supposed to be grilled before consumption (grilled seems to be the default setting of the expatriate panino) which would explain the underbaked ciabatta and the cubic cheese, why would they give out this product at midday in the high street, when most people would be unable to get to a grill or toastie maker for at least five hours?
3 - Does it make sense to preserve the Italianate plural (panino/panini) in a loan word? Also to be considered: Should people who call toasted bread with tomato and basil 'brushetta' be mocked or hailed as patriots? Should we call a female barista a bariste?
4 - Is it fair or even tasteful of me to be rude about a free sandwich that I was handed in the street?

Flying High in Mumbai

For those of you who share Hamilton's ever-diversifying penchant for prescription medicines, I am now in a position both to recommend and to caution you against Parvon-spas, an opioid analgesic with antispasmodic properties prescribed me by a cheerful consultant in Jaipur. This drug was, as far as I can tell, in my case, completely unnecessary. I made it clear that the abdomenal muscle pains incidental to my gastric shenanigans were very minor. Nevertheless the doctor decided that a three-day course of strong painkillers was the way forward. I have experienced vagueness of mental faculties, fatigue, spontaneous anger and mild euphoria. I would liken the good periods to that sense of pleasant detachment effected by gentle dope-smoking; but the bad parts are comparable to the worst, most soul-destroying hangovers. Parvon-spas is a charmless appellation. I feel that Dogtooth's Gambit is apposite and has real prospects as a calling-card when this giddy formula hits the backstreets of London.