On Ketchup

  People ask for strange things with their food. This is just one of those facts of life. Let’s face it, everyone likes their food or drink prepared a certain way; but some people are a little more particular than others. Olives for your water? Of course! You need mayonnaise, mustard and Tabasco so you can make your own sauce for your crabs? No problem! You would like ice for your Cabernet Sauvignon? Ew, but ok!

  These odd requests can throw you off a bit when you are a fledgling server, but as you become a more experienced server, they roll right off of you. Then you start to work at a high-end steak house. And that’s when you get really snotty. Because when you work at a shi-shi,  expensive steak house, you need to know everything about everything before you can even wait on your first table. You can’t recommend a great steak if you know nothing about it.

  So you learn that there is a difference between dry-aging and wet-aging, filets are the most tender cuts, there is such a thing as marbling that greatly affects the flavour of the steak, and that a porterhouse and a T-bone are NOT the same thing! Just to start with.

  Now that you’ve made it through training and are armed with your new found steak knowledge, a whole new set of odd requests awaits you, ready to irritate and induce eye-rolling.

Them: “I would like my filet mignon well-done, no pink.”

Me, ( out loud ): “ Of course.”

Me: ( in my head ) “ Sure steak ruiner, we’ll do your filet that loses all flavour when cooked past pink well-done you heathen”.

  Now, it is completely understandable when people like things prepared a certain way. It might not be right, but it is what they want. I can handle that. Some people like certain things with their steaks, like steak sauce. I can handle that as well, even though a good steak does not need steak sauce. If you want to douse your $50 ribeye in A-1 you go right ahead my friend.

  But there is one thing that someone will ask for every so often to accompany their perfectly lovely, mouth-watering, delectable, expensive steak. I absolutely cannot stand when people ask for ………

 Ketchup.

  Are you mad????? What planet are you from??? Were you raised by wolves??? Oh wait, you obviously weren’t raised by wolves, because wolves don’t eat ketchup. Everything was going so well “sir”, until you had the audacity to ask for….ketchup. You asked for your steak to be prepared at the proper temperature, you really seemed to know what you were doing. But no, you had everyone around you fooled!

  I’ll put it this way; if someone dared me to eat an entire steak with ketchup, or spend the night in an extremely haunted house; I would spend the night in the haunted house. Ketchup is silly, it belongs nowhere. I have here a proper list of things that ketchup is suitable for.

1. French Fries.

 That is it. You don’t put it on hot dogs, you don’t put it on eggs, ( I’m talking to you New Jersey ), you don’t use it to “make” barbeque sauce, ( unless you are a culinary cheater ), and you most certainly, without a doubt, do not put it on a $44 steak!!!! NO!!! I would rather see you order plain spaghetti and put ketchup on that!

  Maybe you figured that, since you put ketchup on a hamburger, which is meat, that it would go well on a filet, which is also meat. I’m onto your thinking, and it doesn’t work that way, hun. That hamburger was slapped together in 5 minutes by some guy,; your $44 filet was dry-aged for 28 days. So yeeeaaah.

  If you truly feel the need to put ketchup on your steak, just refrain from ordering the steak in public. Keep it underground. If you need to put ketchup on your hotdog, or your eggs, don’t do it in front of me. I will make fun of you. You know why? Because I’m a waitress in a shi-shi expensive steakhouse. And I know everything J

The Denny's Report

 I love breakfast food. I love restaurants that serve me breakfast food. And while I love them all, I have a particular fondness for MY Denny's.
  The Denny's I go to is special. They are very nice, they keep my coffee full, and they always forget the lemon for my water. I like to go at certain times, like:
 A. After I go to the library.

 B. After I "run" at Manassas Battlefield. "Running" makes me very hungry.

 C. When I feel like sitting somewhere and writing about things like....Denny's.

 In other words, I'm usually there late afternoon, when it's not terribly busy.  Now, I don't go every day,( for real ), but I have noticed that this particular Denny's has quite a few regulars. I've also noticed that you can hear some pretty interesting discussions at Denny's.
  On one particular day, I got to sit in the middle of TWO good convos. YES! These were really interesting. To start, the guy sitting behind me was there with his mother. I know this because he told every server that passed. He also invited every server that passed to his wedding on Saturday. Amazingly, they ALL work seven days a week, and, unfortunately, were unable to attend :( See, this guy had married his wife at the courthouse, but they were doing the church thing on Saturday. AND, she does not speak one bit of English! Isn't that amazing??? But don't worry, they can still communicate. His mother was amazed.
  Now, it was obvious that these servers knew the guy. They all came up to say hello to him and his mother. But....
  It got better when his wife called. He let everyone know that his wife was on the phone, and then got up and wandered around the restaurant saying, "mi eposa, mi eposa", into the phone, over and over. I wonder where she's from? I don't really want to speculate how this whole thing came about, but....
  Now the other good conversation was two booths in front of me. This one was a bit more sombre in tone. The lady got there first. Then a gentleman showed up. Of course I'm nosy, so I eavesdropped. So glad I did :-P
  APPARENTLY, this woman was having issues with a co-worker. Or, from what I could gather, the co-worker was having issues with HER. Ohhhhh yeeeeaaaah. Juicy. Now, I'm sorry to inform you that I didn't get all the details, but I can tell you that this chick was de-fens-IVE. And all I have to say is that you KNOW you are in trouble when you get a talking to at a Denny's, and not the office. I wonder who picked up the tab?
  I'll keep you up-to-date on what goes on in Dennysland. I just know it will be good.

                          Babs

Happy Holidays, Drunkos!!!

  The Harbor kicked off the holiday season with their big tree lighting this past Friday. It was a night for families, fireworks, and for one couple, getting completely PLOWED.
  Now yes, it is the holidays, and yes, people like to party during the holidays. But this just seemed a bit odd because this weekend was SO family oriented. We didn't have our usual crowd; it was a bit more like an out of control Romper Room episode. Which is fine, it is that kind of weekend, but we are a bit expensive to be considered a kid friendly restaurant. We are also a bit expensive to be going to if you are already completely schnockered. Which is what one couple attempted to do.
  This couple had shown up earlier in the evening and put their name on the waitlist. They showed up for their table absolutely hammered. Manager-at-the-door signaled to manager-on-the-floor that they were a bit inebriated. I was told not to serve her, since she had stumbled her way to the table. Oh, and look, she's brought her own cup in! Classy!
  I go to the table, and yes, she is in fact completely hammered. So is her date. I really do love waiting on really drunk people that I can't serve any more liquor. Because, let's face it, drunk people are sooooo reasonable, especially when you tell them they can't drink anymore.
  Of course I go through the bare minimum concerning the menu. She has already made it clear that she can't read the menu, and he can't focus on it. Thankfully, they don't order drinks right away. They order water, ( which they had in front of them ), and a salad, and I run away. The less time I spend at the table, the less time they have to order a drink that they won't be getting anyway. I call that move Disaster Avoidance.
  They get their salad, and I check to see if they are ready to order entrees. No, they need more time. They also need help staying upright. By this time, drunk jagoff guy is sitting on the booth next to her, and leaning his drunk-ass self all over the, ( thankfully empty ), table next to them. So there goes THAT table. They are also attracting the attention of the family laden tables on either side. Not because of their loudness, just because of their sloshedness.
  They had ordered a tomato and onion salad that is served with gorgonzola dressing. If you are not familiar with gorgonzola dressing, just know that it is VERY similar to bleu cheese dressing. It is delicious and apparently a great alternative to lipstick. These drunk slobs had the dressing all over their mouths. She was having trouble with her fork making it into her mouth, so she was slurping the onions, dragging them and their gorgonzola dressingness over her chin. Attractive. Now, this couple was a bit older, which really heightened the level of winsomeness.
  I'm hoping they will leave when they're done with their salad, but NO, they want to order dinner. They ordered a lobster fra diavolo, which is expensive, and terribly messy. Great. They also order cocktails. Double great. This is what I had wanted to avoid. So I say, "ok", and walk away, pretending that I will bring their drinks. I have no intention of bringing them drinks, and will continue to aggressively avoid the table. Technically, this could be called "bad service", but they were "shitfaced" and borderline on getting "asked to leave". My boss had been watching them like a hawk, and honestly, they only people they were hurting were themselves. I mean, they might have been mortifying the guests around them with their sloppiness, but they weren't being loud or obnoxious. And I don't think they really noticed that I was avoiding them. They were too busy focusing on basic motor skills to try to focus on me.
  Now I'm slightly dreading them asking me where their cocktails are. As previously stated, really intoxicated people are totally reasonable and understanding when told you can't serve them. If they happened to ask for their drinks, I would get my boss to tell them they were cut off. For two reasons:

 A: He's bigger than me.

 B: He's a lot bigger than me.

Now honestly, I would not want to spend almost $100 on a meal that I wouldn't remember. Let alone get into my mouth. The way these two were going, they would have had diavolo sauce and lobster and seafood all over them. The table was already a hot mess and they had only had one salad. Just imagine where a good red sauce would end up???
  The wonder couple didn't have to worry about that. They just got up and left. Struggled to stand up, put their coats on, and walked out the door. After they found the door, of course.
  Was it the service? Did they forget why they were there? Who cares. We didn't have to deal with a confrontation with a drunk couple in front of a bunch of families. Win. I imagine their wedding, at Medieval Times, or Chuck E Cheese, abhorring the families with small children that surround them with their slobbery, trashed eating. Good times.

 So, enjoy those holidays people! And party on! Woot!!

                                Babs :)

Travels

It's been quite a while. Time to start blogging again. You have been warned :D