[2068]
...
I'm in a Marriott in the middle of nowhere, and I order a steak, medium rare.
It's a large restaurant, and it's busy.
The steak arrives, and although it's the correct shape, it could charitably be described as "bien cuit" ... charred at the corners, and no liquid remaining inside. Although my chance of contracting tapeworm is now zero, this is not what I ordered, and I send it back politely.
10 minutes later, it's plumper cousin arrives, un-charred, and juicy, just the way my Mum told me never to order it.
Then, this huge guy dressed in white with a large hat comes steaming out of the kitchen, and makes a beeline for my table. His badge says "Executive Chef": he asks how the second steak was, and apologises profusely for the steakastrophe.
Slightly gobsmacked, but quite impressed...
It's a large restaurant, and it's busy.
The steak arrives, and although it's the correct shape, it could charitably be described as "bien cuit" ... charred at the corners, and no liquid remaining inside. Although my chance of contracting tapeworm is now zero, this is not what I ordered, and I send it back politely.
10 minutes later, it's plumper cousin arrives, un-charred, and juicy, just the way my Mum told me never to order it.
Then, this huge guy dressed in white with a large hat comes steaming out of the kitchen, and makes a beeline for my table. His badge says "Executive Chef": he asks how the second steak was, and apologises profusely for the steakastrophe.
Slightly gobsmacked, but quite impressed...





