It all started when Macy's sent me my bill in the mail. I simply went to pay my bill. But, my stomach was telling me not only to just pay my bill but to eat something as well. It was then, after waiting in two lines at Macy's, when my bill was finally paid, that I started my journey to the Cheesecake Factory. While my mom patiently waited for the hand held buzzer to go off, telling us that it was time to sit down and eat, my best friend and I went and bought some Christmas movies at Barnes and Noble. As we walked back to the Cheesecake Factory, in the bitter cold, our stomachs were a constant reminder that we hadn't eaten all day. It was a happy day when they called, "Cheryl, party of three!!!" We eagerly took our seats and hurried through the menu to find our choice of food. It wasn't long till the waiter came up to us and asked us what we wanted to drink and if we wanted an appetizer. It's always been a favorite of mine, chips and a spinach artichoke dip. In the rush of things (not to mention my stomach was screaming out, "Feed me!") I blurted out "We'll have the artichoke dip!!!!" The waiter nodded his head in agreement and walked away. As we sat and chatted about our purchases of the day, and enjoyed the brown bread, a woman from the kitchen came out with a tray. It had the most unusual green mounds on it. She came to the table and mentioned, "Did you order fire roasted artichokes?" FIRE ROASTED ARTICHOKES? WHAT? All I can think of is a fire breathing dragon in the kitchen who gets paid $10.00 an hour to use his fiery breath to roast artichokes. My mom looks up at the tray very bewildered, and asks a most perplexing question. "Is that what you ordered?" At this time, I'm staring at the green mounds on the tray. They looked as though they had just been picked from Mr. Mcgregor's garden, except they were a sickly green color that one would not expect from fresh produce. I looked over at Abbey, and her jaw was abnormally dropped to a very low position, as she replied, "Oh, Ok." My very hungry stomach was screaming out for something, anything. But, my taste buds were not allowing me to put that sickly green thing in my mouth. Don't get me wrong here, if any of you like fire roasted artichokes, I'm all for it. I don't mind them myself. It's just at this particular time, I needed spinach dip. The waiter felt very bad about the mistake (no, we did not get percentage off or anything free, believe me) and the situation was rectified in a few minutes, and we were happily enjoying our spinach dip. The night ended well, I found some good buys in the mall, and as we walked out of Macy's , with a Starbucks in hand, the very first snow of the season began to fall.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Ode to an Artichoke ( Fire roasted, that is)
It all started when Macy's sent me my bill in the mail. I simply went to pay my bill. But, my stomach was telling me not only to just pay my bill but to eat something as well. It was then, after waiting in two lines at Macy's, when my bill was finally paid, that I started my journey to the Cheesecake Factory. While my mom patiently waited for the hand held buzzer to go off, telling us that it was time to sit down and eat, my best friend and I went and bought some Christmas movies at Barnes and Noble. As we walked back to the Cheesecake Factory, in the bitter cold, our stomachs were a constant reminder that we hadn't eaten all day. It was a happy day when they called, "Cheryl, party of three!!!" We eagerly took our seats and hurried through the menu to find our choice of food. It wasn't long till the waiter came up to us and asked us what we wanted to drink and if we wanted an appetizer. It's always been a favorite of mine, chips and a spinach artichoke dip. In the rush of things (not to mention my stomach was screaming out, "Feed me!") I blurted out "We'll have the artichoke dip!!!!" The waiter nodded his head in agreement and walked away. As we sat and chatted about our purchases of the day, and enjoyed the brown bread, a woman from the kitchen came out with a tray. It had the most unusual green mounds on it. She came to the table and mentioned, "Did you order fire roasted artichokes?" FIRE ROASTED ARTICHOKES? WHAT? All I can think of is a fire breathing dragon in the kitchen who gets paid $10.00 an hour to use his fiery breath to roast artichokes. My mom looks up at the tray very bewildered, and asks a most perplexing question. "Is that what you ordered?" At this time, I'm staring at the green mounds on the tray. They looked as though they had just been picked from Mr. Mcgregor's garden, except they were a sickly green color that one would not expect from fresh produce. I looked over at Abbey, and her jaw was abnormally dropped to a very low position, as she replied, "Oh, Ok." My very hungry stomach was screaming out for something, anything. But, my taste buds were not allowing me to put that sickly green thing in my mouth. Don't get me wrong here, if any of you like fire roasted artichokes, I'm all for it. I don't mind them myself. It's just at this particular time, I needed spinach dip. The waiter felt very bad about the mistake (no, we did not get percentage off or anything free, believe me) and the situation was rectified in a few minutes, and we were happily enjoying our spinach dip. The night ended well, I found some good buys in the mall, and as we walked out of Macy's , with a Starbucks in hand, the very first snow of the season began to fall.
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1 comment:
How wierd! I never heard of such a thing before. I wonder if maybe someone else ordered them because of a certain kind of allergy or whatever. You never know these days. It figures it would happen to you, though!
Steph
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