1 out of 5 stars because it wouldn’t let me choose none stars.
We ate at this new restaurant. The name is unpronounceable, but I think my mom hissed it was something like ‘JusteatitIsweartoGodYou’llLikeIt.’
She was freaking out about this place and said it was the “hottest restaurant in town.” That was frankly a lie, because it was neither spicy hot nor hot hot temperature hot.
We still had to wait at the restaurant, even with a reservation. They don’t do carry-out, I guess, because they hate me, and there were no couches or chairs, so we just had to stand by the bar. People were kind of rude. They kept glaring at me like I didn’t belong there. My mom did that, too, actually.
It’s probably because I don’t have enough fancy hair on my face. There seemed to be a hair dress code.
When we finally sat down and went over the menu, all of their non-mommy drinks were things like cold-press coffee and kombucha. Excuse me, but death.
Then, the curtain near our table was this really soft, billowy muslin material and obviously I had to touch it. Had to touch it. Had to touch it.
The food on the menu all sounded like poop and poop sandwiches and they actually did not have french fries on the menu and my failure of a mom also did not have any in her purse.
You would cry, too.
What they did have, though, was plenty of pork belly and candied pistachio goat cheese honey things. I couldn’t picture it. HOW DOES THE PIG LIVE WITHOUT ITS BELLY? How does it? No one would answer me. I kept trying. I asked every person within and without ear shot, but they were not hearing me over the music.
The music.
What.
My mom was drinking something with mulberry jam and jalapeños in it, and I know she didn’t like it because she made her “doesn’t like it” face, but she drank it anyway because it cost $14 and stop asking her about it right now.
I tried to take her mind off it and told her, “I CAN COUNT TO 1,000.” So that pretty much took us through dinner.
Which was a disaster.
They put truffle oil on everything. Truffle oil tastes like what the dirt under rocks tastes like…I’ve heard. It was on EVERYTHING. Like, I imagine they even use it in the soap machines in the bathroom there. Although I wouldn’t know because I don’t wash my hands when I go to the bathroom, unless I go #2. But I didn’t there, so that was OK.
The dessert was actually fine. They had different flavored cotton candy and deep fried candy bars. I liked all those a lot. It’s 4 days later and I still haven’t slept.
And still no one has answered my pig question.
*****
About the Author
Sarah Zimmerman is a freelance writer, Physician Assistant in Women’s Health, mom of two, wife of one, and co-owner of a vegan ice cream business. She has been published in Pregnant Chicken and The Mighty, and you can always find her on her blog, bigtroubleblog.com, or Facebook/Twitter, @bigtroubleblog. She aims to find the funny in the hard stuff of life.