Two CÉGEP pals and I go out every once in a while for a ladies night, most recently Friday, May 5th, 2023. Our intrepid leader (or, at the very least, born people-organizer) proposed Pizzéria n° 900, our resident civil engineer picked which location, and we were off to the races! In our group chat, I excitedly wrote that this would be a great opportunity for a new Caesar salad blog entry.

Oh, it sure was.

• Lettuce: Crunchy. Effortless forking.
• Bacon: Is there any actual difference between “pancetta” (per the menu) and bacon bits, we wondered? Inconclusive. Whatever you call it, it was fine.
• Dressing: WAY TOO ACIDIC. I don’t know how, but the friend sitting beside me could tell.
• Croutons/carbs/anything,-god,-please,-ANYTHING: NONE TO SPEAK OF. I found myself gazing longingly at my friend’s pizza crusts. She took pity on me.
• Parm: It was fine, whatever *grumble grumble*.
• Serving size: What am I to you, a bus?? I never don’t finish Caesar salads… I didn’t finish this Caesar salad.

Did the waitress come by with a too-big mill to offer me fresh pepper? Yes. Did I partake? No. Would it have saved this profoundly boring, when not bothersome, meal? Definitely not.

Besides the fact that I think they over-charged me versus the price their menu had listed…!

I am not a happy camper.