On Saturday evening, my husband, Studly Doright, took me to dine at one of his favorite Italian restaurants in Tallahassee, namely Riccardo’s. He and his office staff eat there at lunch fairly often, and even though Studly isn’t crazy about Italian food he likes Riccardo’s.
The restaurant was packed when we got there. A family with three small, tired, and cranky children was seated before us, thankfully across the room from where we ended up. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, but when I’m enjoying a date night with Studly I’d rather not have my meal be punctuated with whining and tears.
We decided fairly quickly what we wanted to order, but by some quirk of fate we had to share our waiter with the aforementioned family of five. After pinning down their drink orders he finally made it to our table. Studly and I didn’t waste any time. We knew exactly what we wanted: A caprese salad and a glass of wine for me, and a pepperoni, onion, and pineapple pizza for him, with a half order of bread for us to share.
To make a long story short, our bread never arrived, and Studly’s pizza was delivered sans pepperoni. Our waiter never checked to see if we needed more to drink (neither of us did, but that’s beside the point). In lieu of bread to go with my salad I nibbled on one of Studly’s pineapple and onion pizza slices. It was decent, but I’m a fan of a less sweet sauce.
When we finally got our waiter’s attention we told him about the missing bread and the pizza faux pas. He was contrite, but I think the family of five had him totally flustered. And honestly, we probably had a much healthier meal without the bread and pepperoni.
As an apology he brought a slice of tiramisu over with our check, and with that move the healthy aspect to the meal flew right out the window. Boom. I did limit myself to half of the slice, saving the other half for breakfast. It doesn’t look like much now, but trust me, it was delicious. See, even a healthy cloud might have a tiramisu lining.