Sarah and I got dressed to the nines and met up with her father and girlfriend. After a few drinks at the bar (smoke-free!!!!!!), we went to the table. Rah rah rah, dainty dainty me. So I'm looking through the menu as I sipped my wine and discovered nothing looked appetizing to me.
I went down the list... "Prosciutto-Wrapped Loin of Rabbit with Toasted Walnuts and Figs, Port Wine Dressing..."
Ew. I pictured some poor little rabbit's pee-pee wrapped in lettuce.
"Beet Carpaccio with Truffled Salsify, Roasted Shallots and Chèvre, Cider Vinegar..."
What? What?? Forget it. If I can't figure it out by the menu, I won't eat it.
"Chestnut-Crusted Sweetbreads with Acorn Squash and Brussels Sprouts, Truffle Jus..."
Oh! Sweet bread! Can't go wrong with that! And with chestnuts!
So the waiter came around and I was all, "Yes, I'll start with the sweet bread and for my entree I'll have the Vermont-Raised Organic Chicken..."
"Very good, madam," the waiter said, taking my menu.
Sarah gawked at me. "What did you order??"
"What?" I asked, startled. "The bread and the chicken. I know, I know, they're not the most elegant things I could order, but I'm not into any of this stuff."
"Do you know what sweetbreads are???" She asked incredulously.
"I don't know," I said. "But it has chestnuts. It must be good."
"Tell the waiter to take that off your order right now!" she commanded.
"Why?" I asked, baffled. "Who cares?"
"Just do it!"
So I told the waiter to switch my order to a salad and chicken. After he went away Sarah's Dad asked, "What was wrong? What did you order?"
Sarah said, "She ordered sweetbreads."
"Hahaha!" her Dad laughed. "You don't know what that is?"
"Apparantly not," I muttered.
"It's deep-fried cow pancreas, basically. So you'd be eating fried intestines."
I nearly fainted. Then why is it called SWEETBREAD???? I pictured something like the sweet bread I have at Easter, like Babka, that sweet Polish bread.
Hmph. So I felt like an idiot. Who eats that shit?? False advertising, I tell you.