I thought not to write about this, but how can I not? It’s too good.
So Trish, my amazing girlfriend, and I are hanging out at home, both with the day off. This is a rare occasion, so to capitalize on this event, we decide to go on a couple of dates: a lunch date and a dinner date, followed by the flick, Quantum of Solace. In this story, I’ll only discuss lunch. Well, we decided we both wanted Chinese food. She knew of a great place on the corner of H and Alhambra called Shanghai Garden. So, of course, I’m game.
So we walk up to the building, and as I do with all restaurants in Sac, I take a personal second to search for the required posting for a passing score in their latest health inspection.
“Green…awesome…let’s eat,” I think as my concern is relieved.
We get our table, enjoy our tea, and place our orders. I can already taste the food. I was soooo hungry. She orders the Black Bean Chicken, and I get the Seseme Beef with steamed rice, and we share a bowl of Hot & Sour Soup.
So we’re sitting at this worn down looking table and finally get our soup. Believe me, we were both ready to dive into that sea of hot & sour soupy deliciousness. I take the first sip from those crazy boat-like looking spoons, and enjoy the warmth that the spice ingredients offer and the flavor of the sour. I’ve never liked hot and sour soup, but since Trish introduced it to me, I’ve been a fan. So we’re sitting there, enjoying ourselves, when I take another heaping scoop of what was supposed to be soup for TWO. I bring the mini boat-spoon to my lips and out of nowhere, through my super human peripheral vision, I spot an unknown object just about to high-five my upper lip. I bring the spoon to eye level in hopes that it was an ingredient that I was spotting.
“It must be a bamboo chute,” I thought, “Or maybe some ancient Chinese herb. Please let it be an herb.”
I looked closer, and as sure as the sky is blue, this unidentified object had big round eyes, six little black legs, and clear, dirty, disgusting wings. I retracted my head so fast from that spoon and immediately lost my appetite. Trish knew something was wrong by my expression, and I told her.
“There is a dead fly in my soup.”
There was a dead fly in my soup! Looking at me, laughing at me as though it got the last laugh in a string of practical jokes. If that fly were still alive I would have punched it in its dirty little fly face for ruining my meal. But it wasn’t. This fly was deceased, and it was marinating in the hot & sour herbs and spices that I was supposed to be enjoying.
And it gets better. I tell the server about this intruder of our meal, and he comes up with, “Ok, I’ll get you another soup.”
“Yeah, sure pal, sure chief! Just 86 the fly this time. That would be great. Thanks buddy.”
“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! WOULD YOU EAT THIS?! GET OUT OF MY FACE YOU SERVER OF FLIES!!!” I thought. But instead, I kept my cool, and said, “No thanks, but please take it off our bill.”
We still tipped the guy. I mean, it wasn’t his fault. But needless to say, I will never go back to this place again.
Can you imagine if I didn’t see that fly? I would have eaten it, like it was chicken, or tofu. It kind of makes you think, how many times have you consumed that extra protein in your food without knowing? Just a little something to think about, or not.