Saturday, 30 October 2010
SNACK ATTACK - PART I
When I lived in Brighton with my then husband (this was the last then husband, I have a pending then husband currently - oh, not to mention a then then husband...oh do sit up and concentrate for goodness sake! There's a test at the end.) Anyway, as I was saying, when we (whatever his name was, gets a bit confusing even for me) and our small child (who is still our child, only no longer small) were enjoying the seaside resort as our hometown, we went out to lunch one day on the beach.
There are, of course, numerous eateries along the promenade, and we treated ourselves to fish and chips at one place, large enough to accommodate diners both inside, and outside at tables situated on the stones. (Nice also has stones for a beach. Go figure.) We queued up for our food, and then, because the sun was shining (Nice also has the odd spell of sun, so come to think of it, I feel vindicated), decided to sit at an al fresco bench table. Our son, Sam, was about 4 or 5 years old at the time.
We'd asked the person heaping crispy battered fish and steaming fat chips onto our plates for some ketchup, but he charmingly grunted they'd run out of sachets, so we tried to interest Sam in tartare sauce instead. Well, I am a comedian.
However, once having seated ourselves outside, we noticed large plastic bottles of ketchup on the tables for diners under cover, so I walked into the room, picked one off a table (nobody was eating inside the restaurant), and carried the bottle out to my family.
Instantly a Very Offensive Woman Indeed ran over to our party and snatched away said bottle of ketchup, shouting angrily that THOSE BOTTLES OF KETCHUP WERE FOR CUSTOMERS SITTING INSIDE, and not for the likes of us, sitting OUTSIDE. I think it's fair to say that our gobs were fairly smacked at this point. We tried to explain that we had paid full price for the food and not the takeaway price, that it was resting on the establishment's crockery, and that our small son was plainly very upset that there had been no ketchup available. To no avail. And so we got up from the table, delivered the untouched fare to the serving counter and asked for - and received - our money back. Needless to say, we never ate there again. (Technically an impossibility, I know, since we hadn't managed to eat there once.)
The other evening here in Nice I strolled along to one of the many restaurants along the Cours Saleya, home to the famous flower market, to listen to a couple of friends perform jazz for a few hours. This is a regular gig and I'm there at least once a week, enjoying the music and drinking cheap, but over-priced (if you know what I mean) wine. In fact, I have recommended the place to many others, publicizing it on a couple of social sites I'm involved with, and have met with friends for 'aperos' there on other nights when there is no live music provided.