Dined at this restaurant last night. Lovely ambience. Soft music. Candlelight. Delicious aroma's wafting in from the kitchen. All in all, very appetizing. I wasn't in an exceptionally ravenous mood so decided to order a chicken soup with onion leeks'and a roast beef sandwich.
The soup was just right, a heavenly balance of flavour. Such being the case, i eagerly looked foward to the next course. Arrive ze 'Roast Beef Sandwich'. Ahh!!! A visual masterpiece! Adorned in a bed of lettuce and crowned with exquisitely carved radish, lay my roast beef sandwich. The meat had a delightful hue. The toasted bread - perfect isosceles triangles. With a sigh of contentment i took a bite of the art in my hands.
Augh! Gross! Revolting! (ok, not what i was expecting)
I open my sandwich in search of the culprit and there hidden under my precious roast beef it lies. The insolent cucumber!
I rage, i growl, i swear and i call for the chef. Sheer self-control stops my hand from knocking the poof off his head. From between clenched teeth, I demand a explanation. "Why in the name of God, did you put cucumber in my sandwich?",i ask.
"Cucumber???", he replies innocently. I point viciously at the accused gourd. Realisation dawns on his feature. "Oh! the pickle!", he exclaims.
My jaw drops. I am truly stumped! I look for some confirmation that i am indeed speaking to the chef of this horrendous restaurant. My eyes move down to his lapel which bears the title of master chief! I stare aghast.
Is this a farce, a prank, a jest??? Surely, a master chef would know the difference between a cucumber and a pickle. Being April Fool's, i look waringly around for a hidden camera. But i find none.
"This is a cucumber!", i roar. "No, it's a pickle", says the chef defiantly. "It's only a pickle if you dip it in brine", say I. This pauses the culinary criminal. "Oh", he mutters.
--The last straw.
I pay for the soup and storm out of the establishment.
Currently, I am in the process of contacting the Al-Quaida requesting them to spare me an ICBM. Then i shall subsequently paint it cucumber green and drop it on the restraunt of that ignorant chef.
My war cry: "Pickle this, B*tch!!!"