To Beefeater Or To Not Beefeater

I guess there’s a sort of benefit to having a constant unchanging expression on one’s face. No one can really ever tell if you’re happy, sad, mad or are about to snap! It comes in handy, though, I’ll tell you that. And I guess I should have employed it at dinner on Friday night, only for the sake of not having that constant confusion we always experience. There is never a time when we go out and order drinks, that Ariel is ever served what he asks for. Unless, of course, I order it. That uni-expression that I pride myself on and that sort of “take no prisoners” inflection in my voice neatly does the trick. But, he ordered his own drink, but this time it came in a variation we had not yet encountered.

He usually orders a very dirty, Beefeater martini, on the rocks, with extra olives and invariably it arrives up. When I order it for him, I leave the “on the rocks” for last so it’s the last thing they hear and it comes out right. Well, Fernando, the gregarious singing waiter brought his drink, on the rocks, which was a surprise, and teaming with olives, but it still wasn’t what he asked for. This was a gin and tonic. Fernando tried to explain that even though the bill would say Tanqueray, it was indeed Beefeater, it’s just that they don’t have a button for Beefeater, which had nothing whatsoever do with the addition of the tonic. We got the drink straightened out, but not before a lengthy discourse over it between Ariel and the waiter.

“Are the steaks marinated in anything, are they highly seasoned?” we asked before placing our dinner order. It’s been my experience lately that steaks are overly salted to the point I can’t eat them. I can’t take that blood rushing to my head after the first bite of food anymore. “Family,” Fernando said, flashing a mouthful of teeth–he started off each sentence with some sort of familiar salutation; family, bello (handsome in Spanish), dito ( “blessed one” in Spanish) or something to that effect–”I am going to go right now into the kitchen and find that out for you. Although, I am sure we use the freshest ingredients, produce, vegetables, meats and cook them to your order. I will be right back.” And right back he would be, addressing us with one of his standard salutations to give us the answer. No, it was not pre-salted and it was delicious as was the crab-stuffed shrimp I had with it.

“Excuse me,” I said, at one point as Fernando, the casanova of McCormicks, went rushing by, on his way to sing to the ladies in the booth behind me and kiss them and probably hand out his phone number “can I have some more water?”  He nodded and flashed a toothy smile and went about his business. Ariel could see the mini concert  from his vantage point and it was met with looks of consternation and confusion from both customers and employees rushing  by with plates of food.  Even one of the managers, at one point, was trying his best to recreate a scene from “Swan Lake”, flouncing and skipping through the restaurant.   Several minutes passed before Fernando returned, stopping briefly to ask, “Did you want wine?” “No, water,” I corrected him.  “Oh, yeah, that’s what I thought. Be right back, amigo!”

Can I go home now?

Filled with food and thoroughly, I guess, entertained from the movie and our dinner experience, we left for home, and as we got in the truck, as I dreamed of slipping into my comfy jammies, parking my do-nothin’ in my red chair and zoning out in front of the TV on the eve of a free Saturday, I asked if we had an club soda at home because, as I uttered to my own disbelief, “I could use a cold glass of red cabbage.” And that is what red cabbage has in common with dinner at McCormick and Schmicks and Burlesque.

Tomorrow I shall tell you about Saturday.

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One Response to “To Beefeater Or To Not Beefeater”

  1. Donna Says:

    Fernando sounds like a real “pastele” (if that’s the right word for “treat”; I found it on Google). “Cold glass of red cabbage”? Is that another word for club soda, or was that a mistake?

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