I ordered my entree which came with a house salad. The waitress asked me what kind of dressing I’d like with the salad.
Me: “French please.”
Waitress: “I’m sorry we don’t have French dressing.”
Me: “That fine. What kind of dressings do you have?”
Waitress: “We have Italian, French, and Ranch.”
Me: “OK, I’ll have the French.”
Oh Is That French?
I went to dinner with a friend at a non-chain cafe. He asked me if I knew what flavor soup du jour was. I said, “I don’t know. Ask the waitress.”
The waitress came over and he asked and she said, “It is a butternut squash soup with sour cream and nutmeg on top.” She guaranteed it was delicious so we both ordered it.
The whole meal was wonderful. We were both happy.
Jump ahead about a year. Same friend and I went out to dinner again. This time we were quite a bit rushed. I think we were seeing a movie.
The waitress came over to take drink orders and he said, “We are a little rushed, so we would like to order the meal now also.” She said of course and no problem.
I ordered a salad and sandwich and my friend ordered soup du jour and a sandwich.
My salad and his soup came out. He looked at the soup, looked at the waitress, looked at me, and just looked very confused. She asked, ‘Is everything OK?” He said he ordered soup du jour. She said that was the soup du jour – Italian Wedding Soup. He looked even more confused. She offered to take it back. He said no it was OK.
Later I asked him if he liked the meal, liked the soup. He said yes it was good, but it didn’t taste anything like soup du jour that he had at the other restaurant.
C’est la vie.
Don’t Eat Here
When I lived in San Francisco, I met up with one of my buddies for lunch. I asked him where he wanted to eat. He said anywhere was fine as long as it is not Sub Sandwich Restaurant (not really the name of the restaurant but will protect the guilty).
I asked him why not the Sub Sandwich Restaurant and he had said he had gone there the week before and something happened. Now my curiosity was peaked.
Its the kind of restaurant where you order at a counter, sit down while they toast the sandwiches, and someone with a handful of sandwiches in baskets walks around and calls out the number and the sandwich type. When you hear your number, they bring the basket to your table.
My friend said the restaurant was packed. He had ordered the turkey sandwich and sat down. After an abnormally long wait, the lady called out a number multiple times and he thought she said turkey so he figured it was his. She delivered it to him, he took a couple bites and realized it was not turkey but was tuna.
Then she called out another number and clearly said ‘Turkey’. He waved her over and said pointing to the basket in front of him, “This isn’t mine. I had the turkey.” So she put the turkey sandwich in front of him, picked up the Tuna, and started yelling, “Tuna. Number whatever.”
A businessman deep in intense conversation suddenly woke up and raised his hand that his was the tuna. She put the basket in front of him.
“Oh no,” my friend thought. Will the guy notice the two bites missing from the sandwich? Will he tie it back to my friend? What to do?
He said the business man returned to his intense conversation taking bites in between talking.
I asked my buddy what he did. He said he finished quickly and got to heck out of there.
The Kindness of Strangers
I was hanging out in the city with one of my friends. We were both hungry and it was past a normal dinner time. We were near a new boutique corner restaurant that we both wanted to try, so we stopped in. The small, well-appointed dining room was packed – but fortunately they had a table for 2 available.
We were presented menus and I asked for a wine list. The host politely informed us, “We are a BYOB.”
For those not familiar, BYOB stands for Bringing Your Own Bottle (of wine or spirits). If a restaurant does not have a license to sell alcohol, they often choose to let patrons bring their own, with the restaurant providing the appropriate glassware and mixers.
The host thought the wine store nearby was unfortunately closed at this hour. A quick check of our iphones proved him correct. The aromas in the restaurant were amazing and we were so hungry that we decided to stay and have a meal without wine (and yes I know this almost like blasphemy).
We were presented an amuse-bouche, then an older gentleman from a table that had just paid walked over with two bottles, each about a third full. He had overheard our wine-less plight, and he offered, “Would you like the rest of these bottles? ” We offered great thanks and accepted his generous offer of what was two very fine wines.
As much as we tried to pace, that wine was gone with the appetizer. But then magic struck again. Our entrees came out and the waitress came by with an open and mostly full bottle. She said a couple that had just left sent this over. Wow I guess the whole restaurant heard of our travesty of going to a BYOB without wine.
Finally for dessert the waitress brought over two port glasses and an older gentleman came from his table to ours and poured us each a glass. If my memory is corrected it was a Dows Vintage Port. We were jaw dropped by the kindness of strangers who had no issue sharing for the benefit of our enjoyment. People are good.