Today I decided…I do have something to say.  Whether there is someone listening or not, I will use this time as therapy- I assume we all need it.  The topic I want to dialogue about is food…not just all foods, but the ones I am lucky (or unlucky depending on the establishment) enough to digest.

I call myself Heady Veggie because I am vegetarian, lacto-ovo, since 1989, with no intent of going to the next level.  Which is the place I’ve been told by many vegans is where I need to be headed.  Nope…eggs and cheese are just fine with me.  The ‘Heady’ part of the name comes from just that, my head.  Everything I write will be from my perspective, with little to know thought about what anyone else thinks.  My perspective in this case is my reality.  Like it or not, these are my thoughts and opinions based on the foods I eat and the dining experience.

            The restaurant that broke the camel’s back is called Popolo located in Leopold Square in Sheffield, England.  If first impressions are lasting ones or have any influence on desire, I should have walked out of the door.  Being a glutton for punishment and wishing to try a new restaurant in this city that I frequent, I stayed.  I walked in and asked the bar tender should I wait to be seated.  He replied, yes and said he would find me a table and maybe I would have to eat upstairs. The bar maid doubling as maitre d’ said to the bar tender, in ear shot, I would have to eat outside if there were no tables on the ground floor, because upstairs was closed.  There were no additional tables, my wit snapped and I told him quickly and emphatically, “I am not eating outside.”  Not being a fan of British’s weather and that it was a bit breezy outside, I was totally willing to leave.  Throw new experience and all to the wind…I was out of there.  The bar tender, in his infinite wisdom, offered me a seat in a corner of the restaurant that had high chairs; dilemma solved temporarily, until my knees continuously bumped the counter.  Discomfort aside, I was ready for some good food…or so I thought.

All vegetarians know right off the bat that over 50% of the menu is eliminated immediately, unless it is an Indian restaurant…more on curry heaven in a future blog.  I selected the Veggie Melt Sandwich.  When I asked if it were acceptable to take off the aubergine (eggplant for Americans), sure was my response, because all sandwiches are made fresh.  Five minutes later, the waiter/bar tender comes back and says all of the vegetables are already mixed together, thus they could not take off the aubergine.  Riddle me this…if it is made fresh, should the vegetable be pre-mixed?  Maybe my definition of fresh is different than the one commonly used by most restaurants.  Any who, in addition I order Vegetable Arancini and a Cocaine Martini.  The drink is touted as a bar favorite and reads on the menu as being, ‘…addictive.’

I’ve built up the story this far, but can sum it up in one sentence.  The sandwich was cold, the arancini were three rice balls with two fragments of carrot between them and the drink made me question if martinis have vodka in them; disappointing to say the least.  I was asked by the maitre d’ (the one that made such an initial impression on me) how the food was.  I started to tell a lie, as is my usual practice so as not to offend, but this time belted out “…average, not tasty” and concluded with, “…it is what it is”.  She looked a bit shocked; I didn’t care.  She queried further and wanted to know if I enjoyed the arancini.  I said, it should have been vegetable, but I didn’t find but two carrot pieces.  Her response was, well it has cheese in there as well.  OK…I am not a farmer, but I didn’t think cheese fit into the vegetable category.  I thought cheese was in the dairy foods category?

I decided to give the drink menu one more try; in the Brit’s lingo, “I’ll have another go at it.”  This time I ordered a Black Forest Martini.  It was good, smooth, and creamy but I wouldn’t categorize it as alcohol either.

My experience ended.  It cannot be categorized as pleasent or unpleasant…I tipped the staff anyway.  I need to learn not to tip based on three categories: how I am greeted, my order/ the meal and the service I receive after the meal has been served.  I have a lot to learn and thus the need to seek therapy.  This blog will serve as my sounding board for a disappointed palate and thoughts in general on the decisions I make.

On a scale of 1 to 10, Popolo receives a 6.  I feel I am been gracious, but again, I am learning how to work through my displeasure.

Cheers,