As the acid proceeded upward in a quickened fashion, we smiled happily at one another, wondering who would be the first to admit that this was a disaster. I dont often like to lose, so I was continuing to make good eye contact, nodded my head in a fake happiness, and shook my head in a “real” disbelief in the tastiness….
I have spoken in the past about having a variety of different types of friends. Due to my complex nature, I truly believe this is essential. This being said, I have one specific friend who I have labeled as my “adventurer” friend. In the beginning of our friendship, she was very resistant to my strange requests. Dont get me wrong, she always laughed along with my shenanigans, but she was not fast to participate. Over time, she has grown used to my attention seeking behaviors, my bizzare notions, and often times has found herself smack dab in the middle of a place, where my mindset has taken us.
Recently, I have had a strong desire to try Turkish food. Its not so much the food that was luring me in, as much as the ambiance. I wanted to sit on the floor on fancy pillows, and eat rice chips and ground dog breasts, with my hands…just like the locals. I wanted to be served by a waiter that didnt speak my own language, and drink the beer from a land in which Ive never even been. Not many of my cohorts would give into my request to dine in a facility that has less than perfect sanitation, and that may or may not serve domestic animals as a main course. However, after my graphic description of my dream dining experience, hesitantly, my friend agreed to go.
Due to a sick child at home, our first attempt at going to this establishment was a failure. As you may have guessed though, Im not one to quickly give up. Our second attempt was sure to be a success, except… When we got about 3/4 of the way, on our journey, my friend asked where exactly the place was….. I didnt know.
Unfortunately, upon my new search, I noted that my fancy restaurant was closed on Mondays…which just so happened to be that day!! I was a little embarrassed, and she had no trouble laughing at my expense, while secretly thanking The Lord that she wouldnt have to eat her neighbors cat that day! However, we were almost to the city of our destination, and I was bound and determined to find us an equally ethnic place to eat.
I was hoping that she too could see what I was seeing…
….. Sometimes the path we choose, is not necessarily the path that has been chosen for us.:)
Indian it was…
As we pulled in and parked in the lot, a sudden comfort surrounded us. The blacksmiths were patching up holes in the siding, with mud and loose sticks, just as I had imagined. Ethnic music blared from the speaker, and we both looked in the picture glass window in unison, with the hopes of spying a belly dancer or two. No such luck! Still, we looked at each other and nodded, knowing that we had found our predestined dining experience. The only problem was, it wasnt opened yet…..
Because we were early, we had time to walk a few blocks, to check out what other things that this city had to offer. What we came to find was mesmerizing, and it just gave my mind fuel for future dining experiences. There were ethnic restaraunts EVERYWHERE!! Greek, Indian, Chinese, Mediteranean, Mexican, and lastly……TURKISH!!
This was a different Turkish establishment than I had looked up, and it was open. I looked through the windows, like a kid in a candy store, and found it to be the ambiance I had pictured, clad with the fancy floor pillows and long table. I looked at my companion, who seemed to have a half smile/half grimace on her face, and I told her she should decide…Indian or Turkish?
Since our path had brought us to Indian, she chose Indian.
Our eyes were wide open, as the host told us we could sit wherever we wanted. Just as I was about to select a nice two topper, my sweet little friend pointed to a hidden table in the corner. A table for 24, on the floor, surrounded by pillows!! It was a dream come true. I asked if we could occupy that whole table, and thanks to his poor English speaking abilities, he said yes. We removed our flip flops to get on the dingy ornamental rug, and immediately were grateful that we didnt wear socks and tennis shoes.
The buffet was completely foreign. We both put a variety of things on our first plate, with open minds and the promise of a successful trip. We could barely swallow the cuisine, but with smiles on our faces, we refused to give in, and just took a few extra minutes than normal to chew the bites. Still staying positive, we noticed what other patrons were getting, and went for a second trip. We ate even less on these plates! The food was causing our gag reflexes to react, the music was starting to lose its luster, and the Indian beer didnt cover the taste, as much as it should have.
When at last, I smiled brightly at her, talking her into eating the pickled, partially prepared pasta, that I was struggling not to vomit up, it was the last straw. She finally said “I can not eat another bite of this”! We giggled in unison, and left immediately….
The moral of the story is….She had given in first…..:)
This restaurant was not a success, however the adventure was….. Thanks for another grand adventure!!