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Hubs got a major achievement at work this past week, so we decided a fancy-schmancy dinner on the town was in order.  He picked a top-notch place called ChartHouse and it was right on the river in downtown Jax. Note: I can always tell the fancy-schmancy places from the wanna-be-fancy places because the real ones give you napkins that match your clothes. For example, they set the tables with white napkins, but if you arrive wearing black, they bring a black napkin to your table and set it in your lap when you sit down. I learned a while back that it was so white fuzzies wouldn’t get on your black clothes.  Genius!

So there we are, acting all fancy and about to spend a pretty penny on this meal. We start by ordering an appetizer.  While we are noshing on it, the waitress comes by to explain some of the features of the night, as well as to let us know about their uber-fab salad bar (which by the way 1. It didn’t hold a candle to the Jason’s Deli salad bar and 2. doesn’t just the idea of a salad bar seem counter-fancy?). Anyway…

As she’s describing this salad bar she mentions a food I don’t hear of enough. Caviar. YUM. Now I’ll be straight – T hates the idea of caviar, he is not a fan at all. But I love me some good caviar! As soon as she mentions this, I’m sold. And by the way, I guess if you’re gonna be fancy AND host a salad bar, it’s the least you can do to have caviar on it.

Immediately I start to contemplate if I can eat the appetizer PLUS the salad bar PLUS my entree. Not likely. I enlist T for help. “Please get me some caviar from the salad bar when you go!!!!!”

“Ok,” he resigns.

A few minutes later he returns from the salad bar with some “sketchy” looking caviar. “What is that?” I ask.

“Caviar.”

“No, that’s not caviar.”

“Well this is all they had, so it must be.”

“Hmmm, I’ve NEVER seen caviar that looked like that. I’m pretty sure it isn’t caviar.” I take a bite and soon learn it’s an olive compote of sorts, NOT caviar. I give him “The Look.” It’s not caviar. She said they have caviar. It MUST be up there.

“Well does it look like worms*? Cause that’s the only other thing they had up there.”

*He knows better than to mention the “w” word to me, especially at dinner! Shame on him!

“No, it doesn’t look like…those…things. It looks like little balls. Really teeny tiny balls. Probably black.”

“Well I didn’t see it.”

Not willing to admit defeat Curiously, I made my way towards the ladies room and nonchalantly passed the salad bar. There it was. Black, shiny, delicious looking. I was right! I knew they had to have it!

I made my way back to the table and explained to him exactly where on the salad bar the caviar was. I all but made a neon sign pointing to it.

T's dinner at the ChartHouse - beef medallions

He made a third trip up there and came back with caviar! Wait. How much caviar does he think I’m gonna eat? The scoop he brought looked more suitable to top an ice cream cone than for a lady to taste.  Afterall, I AM a lady, and I am being fancy…

“Ummm, babe – that’s A LOT of caviar.”

“Well, can you eat it all?”

“Uh, I probably could, but I don’t want to. It’s salty, so you really only need about a spoon-full, not a scoop-full. I don’t think I am gonna eat all that, but I don’t want to be wasteful!”

“Shoot, sorry – I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok, but how are we gonna get rid of it?”

He begins covering it with left over crackers. Too obvious.

We eye the wait-stand trash bin located about 2 feet from my back. Too risky.

Invoking the inner spy in myself I come up with a brilliant plan – the bread roll!

Quickly he grabs the last remaining roll and scoops out the center with his hands. He goes to put the bread into his mouth and I shisper (shout-whisper): “Don’t eat it!” I say. “We’ll need it to stuff back over the top at the end.”

“Good point, babe. You’re a genius.”

“Thanks!”

We scoop as much caviar as we can into the hollowed out roll and “plug” it with the remaining bread. We’re not satisfied. Perhaps it’s because we know we’re guilty, or perhaps it’s because it really is a shoddy job.  Either way we begin re-positioning the bread on the plate to make it look as “natural” as possible. Kinda like when girls wear tons of makeup to make it look like they have none on at all.

In a last ditch effort (we were pretty sure the waitress would be back any moment), Thomas lays a basil leaf on top of the bread. Yeah, cuz that’s really NATURAL.

The waitress does show up shortly after our little escapade and takes the plate away. Immediately we begin second-guessing ourselves… Did it look too fake?  Did she open the roll? Did she just dump it in the trash and not notice?

T was pretty sure she knew exactly what we did, while I tried to remain the optimist.  I was really contemplating just fessing up and asking her if she was on to us, when she returned to the table.

my dinner at the ChartHouse - stuffed shrimp

“Thank you Mr. & Mrs. O’Brien – May I box up what you have left?” she politely asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

Before she turns away she says, “Oh, and by the way, PLEASE help yourself to an extra trip to the salad bar – Even if you don’t eat it, I can always box that up as well.” *Wink*

!!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010, 8:32 am   |   life experiences  |  RSS feed Pinging is disabled. But you can skip to the end and leave a response.