Aug. 6th, 2009 02:41 pm
El sabor de decepción
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muckefuckHuge bummer at lunchtime: Pita Pete's is gone! It was a gorgeous day so I decided it was worth extra hike, not to mention the fact that I was looking forward to telling Carlos about the awesome juanes ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zompist's media naranja prepared for us last Sunday. Imagine my surprise when I found the door locked. No "STORE FOR RENT" in the window, no handwritten note thanking loyal customers for their patronage, just a locked door. I pray to God this isn't the same way his employees found out. I mean, I think Pete has a lot more class than that, but desperation makes men do ugly things sometimes.
And before anyone asks, I did my bit to support him by eating there weekly. Last week was a rare exception--I ended up going out with friends two separate days, so my normal habits were completely thrown off. I knew business wasn't great, but I interpreted such signs as the appearance of daily specials as the usual everybody-is-hurting recession response, not indications of any particular difficulties. Apparently other weren't so oblivious; when I went to the mediocre café next door to get the skinny, the barman made some reference to the fact that he "wouldn't change his food".
I for one didn't want him to. That place filled a niche in E-town's dining ecosystem that none other did. Essentially, his product was a tasty salad with reasonably good grilled meat rolled in a pita and served in pleasant surroundings for a reasonable price; most weeks, it was undoubtedly the healthiest thing I got outside the home. And you couldn't beat the staff. With the exception of that ridiculously slow new guy that Pete unaccountably put behind the counter a few weeks ago, I could have a enjoyable chat with any of them, often in my choice of English or Spanish. I'm not worried about the student help, but I really wonder what Carlos is going to do, let alone the old bear with the bum leg and no papers.
When I stepped outside again, I didn't know where to go so I autopiloted myself to one of the last used bookstores in town, where I found nothing. Short of time after that, I made my way to Chipotle where I never earned any known-client cachet despite being a weekly visitor and always ordering in Spanish and the woman who dealt out the sauces always always gave me too much no matter how I phrased my requests for less. That overwhelming taste of disappointment in your mouth? It's the cumin.
zompist's media naranja prepared for us last Sunday. Imagine my surprise when I found the door locked. No "STORE FOR RENT" in the window, no handwritten note thanking loyal customers for their patronage, just a locked door. I pray to God this isn't the same way his employees found out. I mean, I think Pete has a lot more class than that, but desperation makes men do ugly things sometimes.And before anyone asks, I did my bit to support him by eating there weekly. Last week was a rare exception--I ended up going out with friends two separate days, so my normal habits were completely thrown off. I knew business wasn't great, but I interpreted such signs as the appearance of daily specials as the usual everybody-is-hurting recession response, not indications of any particular difficulties. Apparently other weren't so oblivious; when I went to the mediocre café next door to get the skinny, the barman made some reference to the fact that he "wouldn't change his food".
I for one didn't want him to. That place filled a niche in E-town's dining ecosystem that none other did. Essentially, his product was a tasty salad with reasonably good grilled meat rolled in a pita and served in pleasant surroundings for a reasonable price; most weeks, it was undoubtedly the healthiest thing I got outside the home. And you couldn't beat the staff. With the exception of that ridiculously slow new guy that Pete unaccountably put behind the counter a few weeks ago, I could have a enjoyable chat with any of them, often in my choice of English or Spanish. I'm not worried about the student help, but I really wonder what Carlos is going to do, let alone the old bear with the bum leg and no papers.
When I stepped outside again, I didn't know where to go so I autopiloted myself to one of the last used bookstores in town, where I found nothing. Short of time after that, I made my way to Chipotle where I never earned any known-client cachet despite being a weekly visitor and always ordering in Spanish and the woman who dealt out the sauces always always gave me too much no matter how I phrased my requests for less. That overwhelming taste of disappointment in your mouth? It's the cumin.
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That's a damned shame, really, that he'd HAVE to do that in order to survive.
There's several places doing that, from serving sizes to making a recipe "more economical," and it's usually disappointing. A Chinese restaurant here used to offer a "Great Wall Steak" that, the first time I had it years ago, was damned near orgasmic, it was so good. But now, it's been "reformulated" for cost, I suppose, and is now reminiscent to something I was offered in high school.
Oy.