Monday, September 06, 2010

Piggies


We bowed out of going to dim sum with David and his mother and wife, because the plan was to go for a nice bike ride. All of it was kind of scrapped and we ended up going to lunch.

We ended up at B*Spot, one of Michael Symon's restaurants. One his like five restaurants.

I never watched him on Iron Chef - it never interested me. Who cares if the secret ingredient was 'kale'!!!! ???? And to be honest, I've been to his well rated Lola and Lolita and have found nothing too appetizing about the menu. I realize I'm in the minority. His food is too fussy.

But that's why I like B*Spot, much more simple food and I don't think there is anything over $12. The B is for Burgers, Brats and.....um.....something else that starts with a B, but I don't think it's Beer. If it was, I didn't get any.

I did get a brat with hot sauce, oh and garlic and parm chicken wings. Possibly the best cooked wings I have ever had. They could have been more garlicy - but what couldn't? There is no such thing as too much garlic. However, it wasn't our food that interested us. It was the fucking slobs at the table behind Denton. One grandmother, two daughters and like three of their kids. P.I.G, hogs, they were. Food was everywhere, except their mouths, it seems.

We sat at nice outdoor tables, where our very nice, cute and fun server lamented on how food was packed in between the slots of the wood. They literally had to bring out pitchers of water to throw on water all over the ground to wash away the mess. She just rolled her eyes at us...about them. I'm sure we exchanged some quips.

...and you know they didn't tip her a dime. They were the kind of folks who didn't think they had to, nor were they think their eating behaviour was in poor taste.

The table behind us did not want to split the bill four ways, but get four separate, itemized checks.

She she brought us our check, I told her I wanted separate checks for each drink, the wings and then one check for each of the brats. She laughed. On her trek back to the register, she tells another server, "I love table 7!".

I'm assuming we were table 7.

One the way out of the place, we ran into David, his wife and his mother. David was his usual self, which I won't even go into here. You'd really have to see it to understand. The man can make me laugh and smile like no one's business. I also got to see some of his new work, which was cool.

We never made it to that bike ride. But perhaps today.



Song by: the Beatles

4 comments:

Cubby said...

The food looks good. Greg and his parents and I checked out one of his other places, Bar Symon, over in Avon Lake a couple months ago. I honestly had the best Lake Erie Perch I've ever had in my life, and the place is not even a seafood restaurant.

A Lewis said...

Throwing water pitchers on the table? Oh my. Definitely blog worthy.

anne marie in philly said...

I just about lost my lunch about an hour ago when some little fucktrophy talked about his friend who "puts ketchup on bananas!" and NOT in an indoor voice either.

cheap bastard pigs like the ones you encountered need a trough, not a table. send them to the slaughterhouse!

Ur-spo said...

Gads, but I hate bad manners.
I try my best to keep mine up, for it is the 'glue' of civilization.