Specialty Produce Saves the Day
So after last month’s column, which I am sure you still have taped to your refrigerator, where I boldly state that I had never received a bad YELP—I received like the worst YELP in the history of the world. Worse even than the American Indian’s review of the first Thanksgiving and the pestilent blankets they received as “gifts.” Worse even than the reviews of the Kool-Aid in Jonestown. Man, this review was the worst!! Not only did they find the service “comically horrifying,” they also found me to be very annoying and not very good at my job. They accused me of farting at the table and said that this was the best part of my service. This YELP made me a little gun shy of waiting tables, tbh. I felt so helpless and overcome. I could offer no rebuttal although part of me wanted to remind the author of the YELP that they had asked me specifically to take my time because they wanted to enjoy their birthday dinner. I also wanted to scream, “BUT I DIDN’T FART AT THE TABLE!!!” I wanted to remind them that, “he who smelt it, dealt it,” that I deboned a fish, split their salads and desserts tableside, brought a birthday Baked Alaska, but, honestly, I just have to let it go. Am I claiming that service went flawlessly? Of course not. It was one of those times during service where you just doggy-paddle and try to keep your head above water. Was the YELP review particularly mean-spirited and kind of puerile? Yes, it totally was. Whatever, sometimes I am annoying and sometimes people don’t like me. Lesson learned: Sometimes people are NOT into the Apryl show.
Now for a flawless segue into this month’s column.... So here I am feeling a little melancholy, I hate that I care what a mean stranger thinks, but I totally do, and I realize what I need is to get back to Hawaii see last month’s article and let my cares and troubles float away with the tropical breeze. The way that I intend to do this is by reigniting my brief Hawaiian love affair with the passion fruit or lilikoi as I like to call them you know, because I am super-annoying and whatnot. Anyhoo, Whole Foods was a bust. Sprouts was a bust. Local farmers markets were unfruitful. Haha Finally I recalled Specialty Produce, or rather the lady on the phone at Whole Foods recalled Specialty Produce, and off I went. Specialty Produce is the Garden of Eden. Anything and everything your little heart can imagine produce-wise is here. Just walking through the doors will cure you of your scurvy.
My first stop was to procure some purple passion fruits ehem, lilikois. I had my mom and nephew in tow, and the expression on Connie Bruso’s face was priceless. My mom is like the best cook in the world. She has been making macaroni salad nonstop since our return from the Big Island. My mom is a gardener. She has a greenhouse. She has already looked up how to grow passion fruits and bought the pots to feed my most recent addiction. I cannot eat country fried steak and gravy anywhere because my mom destroys any and all that I have come into contact with—it’s her white steak gravy that really gives her an edge. Anyhoo, seeing the look of pure exaltation on her face was just awesome. Then my friend Sara Peters, she works there and is supes awesome, mentions that the stone fruits are pretty amazing right now. I have tried buying nectarines, plums, and peaches on several occasions this year and have been met with mealy yuckiness where I have been expecting tart and sweet firm flesh a little X-rated, I know, but I am serious about my stone fruits!! Sara cuts some for us in the store and they are heavenly!! We leave shortly after, our arms laden down with pounds of McNulty nectarines, pluots, and peacotums. Plbbh, plbbh, plbbh that’s me farting as I walk out the door.
It’s amazing how finding some flawless fruits and veggies can change your outlook. I refuse to let that nameless guest define me. The cakes, salads, and fish are the only things that I “cut” tableside. But, guess what? Human beings digest food and accidents happen. Did it occur at that particular time and place? No, but what if it had? Could my service have been better? Sure, I am imperfect. Could the guest have spoken to a manager and voiced her grievances in a mature way instead of lambasting me on social media? Most definitely. Is there anything that I can do about it? Nope, but I certainly can wash off one of my perfect little pluots and go to town on it.
1929 Hancock St #150 • San Diego, CA 92110 • 619-295-3172
www.specialtyproduce.com • #specialtyproduce