A Long Story About a Chicken Sandwich

It was never my intention to form a food critique blog. I had originally envisioned this blog to include stories about food, reflections on my favorite foods- even recipes. Thing is, though- I hate my kitchen. Actually, I hate my whole apartment, but that's neither here nor there. The point is- I don't cook much in my own house (mostly due to lack of dishwasher) and the Boyfriend never has any food which to cook in his house. So until I get a better kitchen, I'll probably be posting mostly reviews of restaurants.

However, to keep my original idea somewhat alive, here is a story about food that is not a restaurant review, but I think it does reflect the importance of food.

Lunch is my enemy. I find it to be the most difficult meal of the day because it is relatively undefined. Breakfast is defined by, well breakfast food, and dinner is defined by larger, heartier meals- usually ones served warm. But what defines lunch? A sandwich? Perhaps, but we can't eat sandwiches every day for lunch, now can we? This is the fundamental question behind a problem the Boyfriend and I encounter all too often. It all starts with the question, "Are you getting hungry?"

Now, if it is somewhere in the earlier hours of the day this question poses no problem. Asked in the evening it becomes a question of dinner, and we seem to do okay with that one, too. However, if it is asked during the indisputable lunch hours... there is simply no telling what will happen next.

Well, the question popped up last Saturday and wouldn't you know it- I had an answer! "I am craving a chicken sandwich." I said confidently.

It was decided that we would get a chicken sandwich! Where, though? Well, we had some errands to run... surely there would be some chicken sandwich selling places on our way. That couldn't be too hard, could it? I knew the area where we were going to be had a Chilli's (I know, I know- a foodie like me eating at Chilli's- but I really like their chicken tenders!), but the Boyfriend wasn't in a Chilli's mood. Fine. Again, how hard could it be to find a chicken sandwich?

Getting near our destination we saw a Bennigan's and decided to give them a try- surely they were purveyors of chicken sandwiches. Although the restaurant was only about a quarter full, we were told by the hostess that we would have to wait five minutes (she even held out her hand to show us her five fingers, in case there was a misunderstanding). I assumed they were simply short-staffed and took a seat to wait out our five minutes.

Let's pause the story here to make something clear: I need to eat. Well, everyone needs to eat or they'll starve, but the thing with me is I need to eat. My blood sugar does weird things if I get too hungry and then I get cranky, I get a headache and essentially I just fall apart. I wasn't quite at that point when we walked into Bennigan's but I was definitely hungry.

Back to the story. After our five minutes of waiting were up we were seated and given menus. What do you know- they had a rather yummy looking sandwich. We decided on our orders and chatted while we waited to be served. And we waited. And waited. And waited some more. At no point did anyone come over to our table to even acknowledge our presence. We were being ignored, and I was getting annoyed. We waited a little while longer, but when I realized the people across from us were on their second beverages and still didn't have their food, I knew what kind of service we would get even if we ever were acknowledged. We left.

Between the five minute waiting period and the time spent being ignored at the table I had started to reach the level of dangerously hungry, and we weren't sure where to go from there. We drove and drove but simply found nothing that looked like it served food. Throwing the notion of chicken sandwiches out the window we pulled up to a favorite breakfast place (told you we were okay with breakfast food, didn't I?). It was 2:50 p.m., and the sign on the door said they closed at 3:00. We unanimously decided not to do that to the staff. After all, we like to eat there and would rather the staff not hate us.

Back in the car and driving. I was now well into the danger zone of hunger. Headache was full blown and I was past the point of caring what I ate.

Little did I know, the Boyfriend- that hero of mine- had a plan.

"A Chilli's!" I cried happily a few minutes later as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Yes," he said, resigned. "A Chilli's."

And you know what? That was one of the best chicken sandwiches I've ever had.