Yesterday, Tuesday, April 16th, I woke up from an unplanned luxurious-laziness nap to find that I’d missed a call 4 minutes before from my dear sibling. Returning said call, I discovered that she and the bf were once again on my turf, once again in search of grub.

My Caesar senses tingled.

So, here’s the lowdown, folks:

• Dressing: Was good, but there was too much of it.
• Croutons: Very satisfied with these! Kinda ephemeral in consistency, which normally causes fork struggles, but I do not recall any such frustration. Well-seasoned, too, il me semble.
• Lettuce: Appropriate crunch.
• Cheese: Generous.
• Where It All Falls Apart: WHO DECIDED THIS WAS LACKING IN GREEN OLIVES?? WHO?? WHY ARE THESE GREEN DISCS HAPPENING THEIR WAY ONTO MY FORKFULS AND SNEERING AT ME?? NO, SAY I, THIS WILL NOT STAND, I WILL NOT ENTERTAIN THIS! — And so surgical-precision forking was required.
  • AND AS IF THAT WEREN’T ENOUGH: A couple of unidentifiable red entities also made an appearance in this bowl. I avoided on instinct. My sister did not, and did not enjoy.

This is the first time since starting my survey of the Caesarian world that, looking down in my plate-bowl at the end of the meal, my thought was: “Well, that looks like throw-up.”

Noticing it sickened me, my picking up the red thing with hopes of identification sickened the bro-in-law, and we hightailed it out there.

I’d add, also sickening, but differently: if you eat in, absolutely everything you don’t ingest (eco-friendly cutlery and very-recyclable plastic bowls included) you have to go dump in the trash bin 😡