There was a little restaurant right next to my undergrad university that everyone loved. It served American, Mexican, and Italian food, so you could bring three finicky appetite groups with you and be pretty confident all would be satisfied. All the menu items were upscale too, and the atmosphere was perfectly quaint, romantic, aesthetic, and all-in-all delightful. Cute waiters, added bonus.
There was only one menu item that probably could have used a more classy title. It was, no surprise, also my favorite thing to order. My first few times eating there I was an amateur and ordered the Chicken Marsala. After a while, though, I passed up things like the Florentine salad, or the Mahi Mahi. This place even served alligator and ostrich, but what I'm about to tell you about will clarify for you why this adventurous spirit passed up even those choices*.
"No no, thank you. I'll have the Nacho Mountain, please. With a glass of your merlot."
They weren't kidding when they said "mountain," either. I always had leftovers for the mini-fridge. Holla.
*Besides, I sampled ostrich and alligator in Namibia, so you know, eating it in the Midwest just feels tacky. ;)
whadda bout the Hot Chicken Salad. yes. yessss...
ReplyDeletedo you remember when we ate there once and i ordered the spaghetti and meatballs and there were only three meatballs because they were HUGE?
ReplyDeletep.s. never had the hot chicken salad.
ReplyDelete