An Italian Food Failure...

Alright...

In the interest of full disclosure my Mom might have mentioned that I shouldn't blog about this.

But really it was nothing for her to be embarrassed about. 

It was my fault, not hers. 

I was the moron in the group who let this happen. 

Let me just tell you about it.

So, we took a big trip to Italy several years ago to celebrate my parents 40th wedding anniversary.

I blogged here extensively about it in January.  

We did a few nights along the coast at Santa Margherita near Cinque Terre.



And we did a few nights at Lake Como. 


It was fantabulous. 

Wow. 

Can I just say that spell check had no problem with my spelling of the word fantabulous. 

Thats odd. 

Anyway...

We ate at some really great restaurants while we were there. 


I mean, come one, Italian food. What can you say?

We tried to comport ourselves well. 

We didn't want to be 'ugly Americans.'

But this one day...

See what happened was...

Well...

It all started when...

Okay, here is what happened:

Ya know when you go to an Italian restaurant and they bring out the bread and the balsamic vinegar and EVOO and they make the big presentation where they pour it in the dish and you float off to heaven dipping the bread in the dish with the mixture and eating that loveliness?

Sure you do. 

So we were at this beautiful restaurant on Lake Como.


The restaurant was great.

Well, great except that the waiters were a bit snooty.

You know the kind that roll their eyes when you ask for "coca cola con ghiaccho"

That's coke with ice for you kids back home. 

So, the waiter brings the bread and we see the dish and the balsamic and oil on the table and rather than wait for him to pour it in the dish we decided to make the mixture ourselves. 

No problem, right?

We make it. 

We love it. 

We are all chowing down, dipping the bread in the dish and talking about how fantastic it is. 

When all of the sudden our waiter sees us and runs over (seriously, the dude runs over) to us and tells us that...

Oh, brother.

My face is getting red remembering it. 

He tells us that: 

"No, no! 

That is not for the oil and vinegar! 

That is for the ashes! 

That dish you are using is the ash tray! For the cigarettes!"

Woops. 

Our bad. 

Final Score
Italian Waiter: One
Us: Zero
AKA Jane Random

My superpower? The ability to blog everyday.

4 Comments

  1. First, I think you should write a book. Secondly, that is hilarious. Did you just keep at it like no big deal? See no one is allowed to smoke over here in the USA anymore so we aren't used to seeing ash trays on the tables.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well, he took the dish away so there wasn't much we could go about it except laugh and be glad we never had to show our faces in that place again!

    ReplyDelete
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