The Fiddlehead Restaurant

I sit here at my Commodore 64 with the idea of writing how much I hated The Fiddlehead Restaurant. Please tell me if I have done a good job.We enjoyed the maze they forced you to walk through just to find the place. That was a plus. Then the woman who greeted us was very attractive. That was a plus. Then Steve said that on a store video on Youtube she said she would stop and have drinks with customers. So when the very fashionable waiter arrived I informed him we fully expected her to come have a drink with us, like it said in the video. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, “She’s a little bit busy.” I answered, “Good. Then she should have time to join us!”

We ordered shrimp and cheddar grits. They were spectacular. We got Martinis with Tanqueray. They were magnificent. But no pretty lady to drink with! Steve ordered the house salad, I ordered the spinach salad. Steve was thrilled with his salad. Mine was to die for. The blend of the cheese, bacon and apple cider vinaigrette was sublime. No pretty lady to drink with. I finished my Martini and ordered another round. Steve looked at me like I was crazy. “Hey! If pretty lady is going to have a drink with us I have to have a drink.” We couldn't stall any longer so we told our very fashionable waiter that we would each have the special barbecue pork chop. 

Then we complained about how bad the place was. The building was old and charming. The food was outstanding, the drinks were amazing, and the pretty lady was snubbing us altogether. About the time our tears fell into our Martinis, the pork chops arrived. They were sitting on a bed of shells and cheese and a helping of coleslaw. The pork chop had been prepared with great care to taste delicious and be very, very tender. The shells were such a tasty treat with an entirely different texture and flavor than the meat. The coleslaw was perfect. I asked the very fashionable waiter again when we would have our chance to drink with the pretty lady. He just looked at me funny and bussed the table. Eventually we couldn't wait any longer. I was not going to finish my second Martini and reach the car. Steve hadn't started his, so I found someone at the bar that was glad to take it off his hands. 

We ordered two chocolate torts to go and settled the bill. Then we complained about being snubbed on the way out, after all, for those prices it should have been brought by topless dancing girls. The pretty lady said, “Next time, you, me, drinks. It’s a plan” Steve and I agreed it was the hardest we had ever worked not to have fun, then she goes and blows the whole thing at the end. Although we didn't get our visit to make us feel special, at least she pretended for a few seconds that she gave a shit at the end. That was all it took. We had a wonderful time!