I apologize now for the rambling that is soon to follow.
Lunch started a little… uncomfortably. Molly and I almost walked in the wrong door but corrected ourselves in time, and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the entrance while we attempted to figure out whether to seat ourselves or wait. It wouldn’t have been bad if we knew who the random character was standing by the counter. Was he working? Hanging out? Lost? Against my instincts we asked him whether to sit or wait, and translating the look on his face… and the box of food that the waiter brought him, we deduced that he did not, in fact, work there, but was utilizing the restaurant’s convenient take-out system (a plus in our book). The waiter rushed by in a fury and led us to our seat. To say the least, this guy terrified me. Now that I think about it, he kind of reminded me of Iron Chef America’s chairman. Finally seated, we were able to relax and put our entrance behind us.
For lunch, Molly chose the Pad Ped Thai and I tried the Drunken Noodles. Lunch prices are reasonable, until you decide to add spring rolls, soup, and Thai iced tea. Actually, the soup and tea can be added to any lunch special for a mere $2. The soup was extremely interesting. I couldn’t thoroughly enjoy it until I could pick out what was in it. The blend of flavors was incredible. We decided that it consisted of chicken broth, fish sauce, mushrooms, and a variety of spices. My favorite part of our appetizer was the spring rolls and sauce. I think I would be content eating an entire meals worth of them. We enjoyed the Thai iced tea… when it came. Being that we were terrified of our waiter, it was very difficult to ask if it was ever coming out, but luckily I’m getting better at confrontation. I made Molly do it.
While we waited for the main course, Molly and I flipped through the pages of a magazine she gave me for my birthday. Basically, it’s full of menus and recipes for every kind of holiday event you can think of. The best part? I can’t decide. It’s a toss up between the pictures and the fact that every other recipe included bacon. My mouth was watering as we read through the recipes and picked out what we wanted to make some day.
My favorite part of the conversation was discussing our culinary pasts. It came down to the realization that Molly’s parents are from San Francisco and New York, and mine are from Grand Rapids. Enough said. Molly once described me as “the girl who eats like a truck driver”, and while I’m still pondering the meaning of that, I’d like to think that through the years my appetite has been refined.
Finally, the third contessa was able to join us. Olga had come from finishing her Teach for America application, and could breathe a little easier knowing it was complete. It hadn’t been the same without her, so we were delighted she could join us. Molly and I finished our meals while Olga played with my leftover soup. Mine was delicious and I enjoyed every second. Molly enjoyed hers but had the meal been any spicier, her hair would have had some tough competition from her cheeks. As she complained about the spice, Olga gracefully mentioned that it would “come out the same way”. Later reports confirm Olga’s suspicions.
When we paid for our meals, I needed something like 85 cents back. Our lovely waiter brought back change in all nickels. While I realize returning 85 cents is not ideal for a waiter, I have no use for a pocketful of nickels. I left a decent tip, but can’t say I felt guilty for leaving behind some of those nickels.
On our way out, the three of us admired their fridge stocked full of Asian beer. Tsing-Tau, my personal favorite beer of the orient, was among them. While we admired, we came across one with a slightly inappropriate name that resembles an American swear word. We had fun being 12 again and giggling on our way out of the restaurant.
After Olga tried to get into the wrong car, failed, and was made fun of, the three of us headed to Bollos and the farmer’s market as always. It was a beautiful day for Bollos to disappoint us. While there were no pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, Molly chose a chocolate chip scone, and I splurged on a gigantic cinnamon roll. Seriously, I think my arm is still sore from carrying that thing around. There was no dispute as to which bag was Molly’s and which was mine the second we picked up the bags. Moral of the story: You need to try one of Bollos cinnamon rolls. They’re amazing.
Although we were hit with the sad realization that the Dahlia Guy is no longer at the farmer’s market (because it’s too cold for his poor flowers), I would call the day another success. I don’t think anything could actually ruin a day with my favorite contessas. Their company alone makes my day, and I wouldn’t trade this part of my week for anything. Until next time!
Lunch started a little… uncomfortably. Molly and I almost walked in the wrong door but corrected ourselves in time, and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the entrance while we attempted to figure out whether to seat ourselves or wait. It wouldn’t have been bad if we knew who the random character was standing by the counter. Was he working? Hanging out? Lost? Against my instincts we asked him whether to sit or wait, and translating the look on his face… and the box of food that the waiter brought him, we deduced that he did not, in fact, work there, but was utilizing the restaurant’s convenient take-out system (a plus in our book). The waiter rushed by in a fury and led us to our seat. To say the least, this guy terrified me. Now that I think about it, he kind of reminded me of Iron Chef America’s chairman. Finally seated, we were able to relax and put our entrance behind us.
For lunch, Molly chose the Pad Ped Thai and I tried the Drunken Noodles. Lunch prices are reasonable, until you decide to add spring rolls, soup, and Thai iced tea. Actually, the soup and tea can be added to any lunch special for a mere $2. The soup was extremely interesting. I couldn’t thoroughly enjoy it until I could pick out what was in it. The blend of flavors was incredible. We decided that it consisted of chicken broth, fish sauce, mushrooms, and a variety of spices. My favorite part of our appetizer was the spring rolls and sauce. I think I would be content eating an entire meals worth of them. We enjoyed the Thai iced tea… when it came. Being that we were terrified of our waiter, it was very difficult to ask if it was ever coming out, but luckily I’m getting better at confrontation. I made Molly do it.
While we waited for the main course, Molly and I flipped through the pages of a magazine she gave me for my birthday. Basically, it’s full of menus and recipes for every kind of holiday event you can think of. The best part? I can’t decide. It’s a toss up between the pictures and the fact that every other recipe included bacon. My mouth was watering as we read through the recipes and picked out what we wanted to make some day.
My favorite part of the conversation was discussing our culinary pasts. It came down to the realization that Molly’s parents are from San Francisco and New York, and mine are from Grand Rapids. Enough said. Molly once described me as “the girl who eats like a truck driver”, and while I’m still pondering the meaning of that, I’d like to think that through the years my appetite has been refined.
Finally, the third contessa was able to join us. Olga had come from finishing her Teach for America application, and could breathe a little easier knowing it was complete. It hadn’t been the same without her, so we were delighted she could join us. Molly and I finished our meals while Olga played with my leftover soup. Mine was delicious and I enjoyed every second. Molly enjoyed hers but had the meal been any spicier, her hair would have had some tough competition from her cheeks. As she complained about the spice, Olga gracefully mentioned that it would “come out the same way”. Later reports confirm Olga’s suspicions.
When we paid for our meals, I needed something like 85 cents back. Our lovely waiter brought back change in all nickels. While I realize returning 85 cents is not ideal for a waiter, I have no use for a pocketful of nickels. I left a decent tip, but can’t say I felt guilty for leaving behind some of those nickels.
On our way out, the three of us admired their fridge stocked full of Asian beer. Tsing-Tau, my personal favorite beer of the orient, was among them. While we admired, we came across one with a slightly inappropriate name that resembles an American swear word. We had fun being 12 again and giggling on our way out of the restaurant.
After Olga tried to get into the wrong car, failed, and was made fun of, the three of us headed to Bollos and the farmer’s market as always. It was a beautiful day for Bollos to disappoint us. While there were no pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, Molly chose a chocolate chip scone, and I splurged on a gigantic cinnamon roll. Seriously, I think my arm is still sore from carrying that thing around. There was no dispute as to which bag was Molly’s and which was mine the second we picked up the bags. Moral of the story: You need to try one of Bollos cinnamon rolls. They’re amazing.
Although we were hit with the sad realization that the Dahlia Guy is no longer at the farmer’s market (because it’s too cold for his poor flowers), I would call the day another success. I don’t think anything could actually ruin a day with my favorite contessas. Their company alone makes my day, and I wouldn’t trade this part of my week for anything. Until next time!
"The girl who eats like a truck driver" ha! There is so much meaning swirled in that one statement.
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