it's a pretty quiet night for a holiday where most restaurants are only taking reservations. there was a small wedding party occupying a section of the restaurant and a few couples sitting at hi-top tables in the bar. after scoping out the options we chose the two small couches facing the fireplace. our waitress came right over, let's be real there weren't too many people to help, so it made sense for her to be prompt. we ordered a few drinks and looked over the menu. heath and i decided to split the french dip meal, we weren't starving since we had stuffed our faces with snacky gas station food on the drive down.
french dips, one of my favorite sandwiches of all time. crispy on the outside and pillowy soft on the inside french bread, thinly sliced medium rare succulent beef, and gooey melty cheese that you dip into salty beefy broth. seriously, what's not to love? i prefer mine with horseradish for a little extra zip, but leave off the onions or any other blasted vegetable.
i try french dips everywhere. in fact, heath and i have split french dip meals at other restaurants. i am still on the hunt for the perfect french dip. so, if you happen to know of a really good one, please share it with me.
back to the story.
there is something about smelling food that makes you hungry. i can't say that i was starving before getting to the restaurant, but once i smelled the aromas wafting from the kitchen, my stomach was super excited to be filled. we received our food fairly quickly, remember the place wasn't packed, and a quick glance of my food and i thought it looked okay: french dip cut in half, a bowl of salty beef broth, a mound of fries and a pickle. i quickly scarfed the pickle down. my horseradish was on the side so i picked up a knife to slather it on my first bite.
i remember looking at my half of the sandwich in anticipation, but i was quickly a little disappointed. it wasn't a sandwich that was piled with beef, in fact it was pretty thin. i was hoping to grab my half and watch the cheese stretch from the plate in all its gooeyness, but it wasn't even all the way melted yet. however, i was now starving and there wasn't anything a schmear of horseradish couldn't cure.
or so i thought
i took my first bite. it was mostly bun, which i forgot to mention the bun wasn't toasted, crispy or pillowy soft on the inside, just a bun. i pick up the knife to schmear more horseradish onto my next bite when i notice something sticking out of my sandwich. there it was, a foreign object in my sandwich.
i set my half down and spread the bun open to examine the foreign object. i separated the object from the meat, yes it was attached, and held it on my finger. it was a little ring, hard to the touch, perfectly circular, but the color of a tendon or fat. it wasn't very big, i wouldn't have been able to fit it on my pinkie, but it definitely wasn't something i wanted to eat. it looked like a sphincter. i had a tiny butt hole in my sandwich.
i showed the sphincter to heath and she immediately put her half down on the plate. "what is that?" now we were both looking at the tiny sphincter i was holding on my finger. my half had multiple tiny sphincters, where heath's had none, but neither of us was eating anymore.
keri, that smart girl, had ordered a chicken dish and was in hysterics over our sandwich debacle.
so what does one do when their sandwich is covered in sphincters? we gave it back. there was some dialogue between the waitress and heath. heath won. we didn't have to pay for our sphincter roll, but we left hungry and unable to eat the rest of the night.
i know that i will be able to order and eat another french dip. like i said, they are one of my favorite sandwiches, ever. i'm not sure about heath, i know she was very traumatized by our sandwich experience. if you are a french dip lover be on the look out for these:
i can't tell you what part of the cow this comes from
do you know?
do you know?
1 comment:
Hmm. Somehow this makes me think of a rim job blog of yours not long ago. Ha ha.
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