October 24th 2019

Today I spent £30 on an overcooked steak but didn’t send it back because that’s just not the type of guy I am. I went to an Italian restaurant and broke my own rule, and suffered from it. My rule is that if you go to an Italian restaurant you should only ever order pasta or pizza, because if that’s what they’re good at, then that’s what you should let them cook you.

But when I sat down I saw that the guy on the table next to me had orders a filet steak and it looked huge and the sauce looked amazing and I wanted to ask him exactly what he ordered but I didn’t because that’s just not the type of guy I am.

So I perused the menu and found what I thought he’d ordered, and ordered one myself. I was kind of okay with the fact it was £30 because as soon as I’d seen the other guy’s food I knew what I wanted and didn’t even check what else they had to offer.

But when my steak came out, I realised it wasn’t what he’d ordered. The sauce was a different colour, for one. And I’d asked for it medium rare, but it was served medium.

Of course, I could have sent it back and asked for it to be re-made but that’s just… well, you know the rest.

I just don’t have it in me to send food back. There was nothing objectively wrong with it, I’d just ordered the wrong thing. This steak had some mushroom and asparagus and stuff in a creamy white wine sauce. The sauce was fine. It was passable. But it didn’t look as good, or, I imagine, taste as good, as the guy next to me.

I had major food envy.

Until tomorrow, my deep-fried Brie starter was good though.


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