Come closer friend for I have a tale to tell. A tale of comical tomfoolery and cosmic attunement. Our tale takes place in the far-off lands of commercial kitchens and our main actor is a stoned out kid who can’t tell his ass from his eyeballs.
Before delving into our sultry and salty tale you must be prepped with eldritch kitchen knowledge. Everything must be labelled in commercial kitchens including sauce bottles. This both stops the wrong product from being used as well as preventing the accidental use of an expired product.
Fudge Wrap
In this particular restaurant, the sandwich and salad station were right beside each other. The salad station made salads, appetizers, and deserts. Fudge was kept near the salad station because of this. Somehow the sandwich station managed to mix up an unlabelled bottle of fudge with their unlabelled bottle of BBQ Sauce.
Now this was not your everyday wrap with some chicken or lettuce, this was the GOD OF WRAPS. It took two 12 inch flour tortilla wraps just to encapsulate it’s glistening magnificence. This was a bacon, mayo, rice pilaf, pulled chicken, shredded lettuce and BBQ sauce laden beast.
Upon picking up the bottle I realized instantly the weight was wrong for BBQ and a quick taste test confirmed it. I turned and looked in horror at the salad station. If this was the fudge what was salads putting on the deserts.
The BBQ Cheesecake
The preferred method of serving cheesecakes at this restaurant was to wrap them in a tortilla shell, deep fry them, then drizzle fudge and caramel across the top and finish with a fluffy serving of whipped cream. As realization about the fudge being used on the sandwich station dawned on me I had a sudden sinking feeling. Checking salad’s “fudge” revealed it to be the missing BBQ sauce. thankfully only one cheesecake had been ordered all night. Unfortunately, it had just been delivered to the customer.
In the kitchen, the whole line waited with bated breath. We knew someone was going to complain. Either the poor bastards who ended up with fudge filled monster wraps or the person getting a sweet treat marred by the savoury taste explosion of BBQ sauce. A minute ticked by and nothing, so we slowly returned to work, the food wasn’t going to cook itself after all.
By the end of the night, there had still been no complaints and we figured maybe they had sent feedback to corporate. A complaint never surfaced and we were left baffled as to whether the people had even noticed or not. Out of pure curiousity, we cooked up a cheesecake and replaced the fudge with BBQ sauce. Surprisingly you could barely notice the BBQ sauce, and it didn’t taste half bad. None of us had the courage to try the wrap though.