America is in trouble, folks. Leah and I went to dinner last night at a small, cafe/bar where the locals gather to sing karaoke, watch their friends' cover bands, drink American beer, eat double decker sandwiches and play the skeet bowling machine with their kids. This place even has an ice cream treat dispenser next to the dart boards. The interior is covered in wood paneling, the lighting fixtures are all different and most of the servers wear sweat shorts. It's a classic dive with all the fixings. But they're in trouble. Something is awry in their kitchen. Maybe it's energy costs or cut backs or downsizing but they are unable to heat their meatballs up to an edible temperature. My sandwich came out with freezing cold balls of meat covered in lukewarm sauce. I walked the sandwich up the bar (the server might've been in the back wiping crumbs off her sweats) and alerted them. The bartender/owner apologized profusely. Promised me the next sandwich was on them. Strange thing to say I thought. Fifteen minutes later the sandwich comes out. This time the bread is bronzed and scalding hot- obvious that it sat in an oven. I looked at Leah who was long finished with her Turkey Club, smiled at my plate of redemption, and sunk my teeth into freezing cold balls of meat in lukewarm sauce. Again. This lovely cafe must not be plugged into the power grid. They must have inane robots for cooks who work for pennies but know nothing about meatballs and how delicious they can be even at room temperature. Because if there were humans above the age of five working back there they certainly wouldn't have failed twice. To send out cold balls once, let alone twice, leaves one baffled and nervous. And hungry. They were shocked that I didn't want them try a third time. This hometown cafe is in trouble, folks. I can only hope our next president can do something. Give them the education they need to learn about microwaves. Give them the funds they need to staff their kitchen with human beings who have brains and opposable thumbs so they can turn their ovens and microwaves on. That's hope we can dream in. Dream on? Dreams we can change on? Believe with? Gotta work on the catchphrase. The future of 'Merica rests in our meatballs. Thank you. Good night and good luck.
3 comments:
since the forte of this establishment is most likely beer, hot food entrees probably and unfortunately take second billing. maybe a peak at the food network might help. or a lesson in elementary physics to aid in identifying frozen vs. thawed matter. or proper microwave operation ?
eh, looking at food network may be a bit advanced for them -- guess just stick to teaching the cafe how to thaw food. and impressing upon them just how delicious their food might be if cooked. or at least above 32 degrees.
Maybe chilled meatballs is just their "thing". I have a sneaky suspicion that the cold coffee drinks were born out of the same unfortunate circumstances. And those things are delectable! Maybe this place is AHEAD of the curve and you are still trying to catch up.
And next time, just do as your wife and order the club. It's always safe.
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