When I was younger, girls’ night was a weekly thing. I mean come on, we grew up watching Sex and the City and we all wanted that group of friends who we call no matter what time and they’re there. We wanted, well I never wanted the fashion because I thought those clothes were god-awful, but I wanted the girls’ nights and Cosmo’s and the talks about boys. But the reality of it all is that now that we’re older, those happy go-luck nights out are few and far between. With work and school and volunteering and travelling and every thing else we bombard our lives with lately–I’m surprise we find time to sleep or eat much less a social life.
One of those rare occasions happened recently. I worked nine hours the day before and eight hours on the Sunday and by the time the clock rolled around for me to go I just wanted to go home and craw into bed. But I hadn’t seen my friend A in a long time. It was starting to look as if we didn’t even live in the same city, a mere ten minute car ride or a twenty minute bus ride apart from each other. Strange, no?
Anyways, we met up and wanted to go to Kelsey’s for something to eat, a couple of drinks and just chill. But when we walked down to the Kelsey’s it was closed–not closed as in they hadn’t opened yet but closed as in gone, no more. I was not pleased. We’d walked to it and it was gone–poof! We both burst out laughing – why? To others this wouldn’t be remotely funny but in Jamaica there is a saying, If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. It would have looked rather strange, women standing on the sidewalk doubled over in tears.
Sure, I know, it’s just a restaurant and its gone, it’s nothing to cry about. But when you’ve had the weekend I’ve had and all you want to do is just sit down in place with someone you care about and pretend everything that happened in the last few days was just a horrible nightmare and then you show up to this place and nothing– yes, I really did feel like crying. We walked back the way we came, crossed the street and up toward a mall where there is a St. Louis. For those of you who have no idea what I’m referring to, St. Louis is a lot like Jack Astor’s or Shoeless Joe’s. Its one of those sports bar meets a pub meets a restaurant. It shows UFC pay-per view shows and all the special play-off games. It’s the kind of places guys get together and talk about stuff. But more and more females are checking it out as well.
We finally got settled and A got the great idea to order two appetizers. Me, wanting to become a foodie, decided I would order something I’d never order before. I searched the menu, passing over the typical stuff like nachos and Jalapeno poppers, chicken fingers and the like and fell on a picture. When the waitress came back I pointed at it and she laughed because I had no idea what it was. She explained it was Mac and Cheese wrapped in Bacon. I shrugged, of course I’m like most Canadian that believe everything is better wrapped in bacon.
Yes my friends, Mac and Cheese wrapped in BACON. It was beautiful when it came. It was nice and brown and looked so absolutely yummy. Yeah–then I bit into one. It was fatty, the bacon stretched as I tried breaking the piece I’d bitten off from the rest of it. I’m not sure if they were skimping on the good bacon but it was all fat – I’m not sure how they got bacon to be soft and not crunch but they managed it. The Mac and cheese inside was bland and just not right. It was as if they cooked the Mac without any kind of spices at all – not even salt. I tried using the dip which was melted cheese but that didn’t help for it too was missing any spark of life. I tried adding salt and ground pepper and it was tolerable to eat then. The Mac was over-cooked because if they’d done it right, the pieces wouldn’t stick together when you bite into it and would make a mess (I’m trying to think that is the only reason my everything was so soft and pressed in together and not because our chef was horrid) but I wouldn’t order it again.