musings of Mother Hood

But hey, they still give you a mint.

I have had a love/hate relationship with Sonic for years now. {Pause while I search my Archives for Sonic stories.} {More pausing while I re-read said Sonic stories and have a good, nostalgic chuckle.}

I present to you:

The Ice Famine
The Tip/No Tip Debate
The time I caught someone eating food off the ground
Frito Burrito Incident
In which I order Diet Coke and would actually like DIET Coke
The time I thought the manager might have a crush on me
The REAL reason I go through Johnson

See?

But I didn't get all dolled up in my pajamas to type out a list of old Sonic stories. Nope. There's a new injustice on the horizon.

Early in the week, I drove through Sonic for a nip of Diet Sprite. (Yes, I've stuck with the No Diet Coke thing. It's much easier than I anticipated.) I hadn't ordered one in a while so it only crossed my mind for a second that the price seemed off. I dismissed it. Later that day I saw a few friends post on Facebook about the new - HIGHER - cost of Sonic drinks. I KNEW it didn't sound right! They raised the price 10%! Crazy talk!

I paused to remember how much I've cut down on Sonic drinks and that - over time - I could learn to accept this new reality.

But then.

I was at Sonic. Again. To get lunch for my home-from-school, sick-and-pitiful child and myself. And I noticed they have shiny new menus. How fancy! And there are signs everywhere warning of "New Combo Numbers" so I took the time to actually READ the new menu. 

I thought I must be missing an entire section somewhere.  So when the carhop voice came over the little speaker, I asked. Umm, where's all the chicken? Am I missing something?

Carhop Voice: Well, we've discontinued most of it. What are you looking for?
Me: *Combination jaw drop and face scrunch*

I was a little glad she wasn't standing there in front of me like at a traditional restaurant.

I told her which sandwich I usually order and she told me they could still make it, but "pretty soon" it would be discontinued. Silly me and my crazy exotic chicken sandwich...

But then.

I was at Sonic. Again. To get lunch for my STILL-home-from-school, STILL-sick-and-pitiful child and myself. And I decided to do a much more thorough scan of the menu. 

• Still no chicken. Well, not MY chicken. They still have chicken strips.
• Some additional burgers and those weirdo new hot dogs with pickles and tomatoes on them. What's THAT all about?
• A noticeable emphasis on tots over fries -- not a SINGLE french fry is pictured on the entire menu. All tots.
• And here's the kicker... are you ready?... no Frito Burrito.

I confirmed it with the carhop when she brought our food. The Frito Burrito is no more. My dreams of one day teaching Colt about the heavenly goodness that is the Frito Burrito - dashed. Now, it's just a legend.

Frito Burrito, people! It was in the unofficial running for "Food I Most Want to Eat Immediately After Finishing My First (hypothetical) Marathon". 

Higher prices? Discontinued favorite menu items? I believe the love/hate relationship has staying power.

The Burger Revolution?

Here's the thing. I'm not a foodie. Don't get me wrong - I like food. Correction: I LOVE food. But I don't have what you would consider a sophisticated palate. My favorite foods are peanut butter and cheese fries. Not together. But still. I've rarely felt impressed by food. It's just food. I like my meat VERY done (read: burnt) and I probably use way too many condiments, but I'm ok with that. I get by.

Eating is more of a social experience for me than anything else. I eat lunch with my work girlfriends at least once a week, and I usually get to go with non-work friends several times a month. It's something I look forward to, but I am rarely the one who requests one restaurant over another. I'm usually the unhelpful, indecisive friend who reads the group email with the subject line "Where do we want to eat today?" and answers back with a "Wherever. I don't care." Because I honestly don't. I could eat Chick-fil-A for lunch every single day and not feel tortured.

But I'm not without favorites. Which is what brings us here today. For months, my friend Nancy and I upheld a weekly tradition of meeting at Marketplace Express in Fayetteville and catching up over a Chicken Berry Salad. In fact, you may remember one particularly notable Chicken Berry Salad experience from about six months ago. We took it very seriously. Marketplace Express was a tradition for us. A social experience. A favorite.

And it's gone.

Just like that, our Marketplace Express closed and reopened as a brand new restaurant called Burger Life.

  

And word of it is tearing through Northwest Arkansas like wild fire. I honestly don't remember the last time something like this came with such a fanatical hype. It's a burger place, people. But it's everywhere-- people talking about it at work, people posting about it on Facebook. So when I got the "Where are we eating today?" email last Friday morning, I quickly replied with a request to try Burger Life. And it was on.

After fighting the crowd in the parking lot, we stepped in the door and came face to face with The Burger Revolution. The atmosphere of this place is bold and intense and larger than life -- and they don't ease you in. Two steps into the restaurant you see a menu board that goes all the way to the ceiling -- with options of meat, bun, cheese, toppings, etc. Like so:

I was handed a small, laminated copy of the menu and a marker, and a Burger Life employee was there to explain the process. Choose your meat (or veggie burger!), choose your bun, yadda yadda -- thousands of combinations, yadda yadda. We were shuffled in the door and through the line, still struggling to take it all in. 12 different cheeses?! What on earth is Jezebel sauce? Who puts a fried egg on a burger?

I felt completely unprepared for what was happening. And I was unavoidably distracted (and frankly - disappointed) by the multiple typos I immediately noticed on the menu. It's BLEU cheese, for example. And I've never heard of a sandwich called "grill cheese". As I navigated through the line and placed my order, I noticed my pretzel bun was abbreviated on my receipt as "prztl". Seriously?

Proofreading aside, the food was very good. But since we've established that food isn't really my area of expertise, it's not surprising that the experience had a bigger impact on me than the food itself. I don't know what better word can describe it but INTENSE. The colors are bright. The imagery is big and bold. There are huge photographs of big, sloppy burgers on the walls. The music is loud. There are MANY employees scurrying around, and that particular day (opening week) there was a crowd WAY too big for the space. Oh - and it's a little on the pricey side for a place that has you retrieve your own lunch out of the kitchen window and bus your own table. And frankly, the ordering process was a little too complicated for me. I crumbled under the pressure and chose safely.

I selected an Angus burger on a Pretzel bun, and finished it with two different kinds of cheese, some bacon, lettuce and honey mustard sauce. Here we are:

A word of advice -- you almost have to work backwards through the menu to make the most of it. For example, I made my way all the way to Step 5 and my interest was piqued by Asian Peanut Sauce, but I'd have had to go back and change all my other stuff just to make it work. And I wasn't willing to make all 472 of those decisions all over again.

It's new. And they are brilliantly capitalizing on their own novelty. So far, so good -- as the line was out the door the entire time we were there on Friday. And after briefly mourning our bygone meal tradition, Nancy and I were able to enjoy dinner together on Saturday. Yes, Saturday. I was there twice in 36 hours. And if anyone suggests it for lunch in the near future - I'll compliantly go along.

But I've gotta be honest, I'm already missing my Chicken Berry Salad.

Check out their website or find them on Facebook. And let me know if you go, I would absolutely love to hear about your burger revolution experience. Also be sure and visit my friend Lyndi at NWA Foodie should you be looking for a real, live expert in all things food.

I Want To Have My Salad AND EAT IT, TOO

Yeah, so it’s been awhile since I’ve offered up a good old fashioned rant for you. They used to be a trusty weapon in my blog fodder arsenal. I don’t know whether I’ve just had good Customer Service luck lately, or if I’ve developed more patience and understanding. I’ll allow you to draw your own conclusions.

Either way, the streak ended today. In a blaze of glory.

I planned a nice, pleasant lunch with my friend Nancy at our mutually favorite lunch destination – Marketplace Express. They have Diet Dr. Pepper for Nancy, and – MOST importantly – they make THE BEST SALAD EVER IN THE EXISTENCE OF MAN. The Chicken Berry Salad. Grilled chicken, strawberries, bacon, cashews, blueberry poppy seed dressing. (It comes with water chestnuts, but I order it without them.) It’s one of those MUST TRY kinda things. Sounds a little bizarre, but – and I can’t stress this enough – it is GOOD. We both order it. It’s heaven in a bowl with berries on top.

So anyway. Went to Marketplace Express for some salad and chatting.

Nancy ordered first.

Nancy: I’d like a Chicken Berry Salad with no water chestnuts.

Punk Kid Taking Our Order: Would you like the Regular Size or the Light Portion?

Nancy: (Licks lips in anticipation of the Chicken Berry fabulousness.) Oh, definitely the Regular.

Punk Kid: Wow – you’re brave.

Pause. Nancy and I exchange A Look.

Nancy: Umm. I’m not brave. I’m 8 and ½ months pregnant.

Punk Kid: Oh. Ok.

My turn to order.

Me: I’d like a Chicken Berry Salad with no water chestnuts. The regular size.

Punk Kid: Umm. You’re not pregnant.

Me: (While killing him with my eyes and silently reminding myself it would be unwise to jump across the counter and knock him senseless.) Nope.

Punk Kid: I wish I could eat that much.

Silence. I silently signed my credit card slip and headed for the nearest booth. Fuming.

Nancy broke the ice with her disbelief that I hadn’t jumped across the counter and knocked him senseless. And, while glaring at him from across the restaurant, I let her know just how badly I wanted to do just that. I wish I had had nicer things to say about Punk Kid. But I’m not here to lie to you.

Ok. Couple things.

First, it is NOT OK to comment on what other people are eating. (I’m choosing to ignore the fact that Punk Kid is male and we are both female. I mean, what year is it, you guys?) So – regardless of the gender of the players involved – commenting on either the quantity of food on my plate or speed at which I am eating it is all-in-all, not appropriate.

Also, I ordered A SALAD. And not one of those salads masquerading as something healthy, all covered in fried chicken and fatty dressing and cheese. (Note: I have NO ISSUE with “those” salads. The unhealthy kind. I am an equal opportunity eater.) It is one of the healthiest things you can order there. SALAD, people. With grilled chicken! And FRUIT! Punk Kid acted as if I’d ordered some MOUNTAIN of food. Some unrealistically gargantuan pile of foodstuff that only the Jolly Green Giant could handle in one sitting. Even if I had ordered one of everything on the menu and planned to eat it all myself – it’s still none of this guy’s business. If I want to have a triple cheeseburger with a side of bacon grease for lunch – I CAN.

It is Punk Kid’s job to sell food. And he’s probably encouraged to sell as much of it as possible. I’m guessing it’s probably not in his job description to discourage two women from upsizing their SALAD orders from the Light to Regular size for an extra $2 by suggesting that they are “brave” for eating that much food or by crudely commenting that he wishes he “could eat that much.”

Deep breath.

Ahh. That’s better. Nice to have that out of my system. As you were.

HOW have I never noticed this before?

This, friends, is my favorite Chick-fil-A. I have a favorite Chick-fil-A. I've been eating there for years. And today - this:

I feel betrayed.

For pete's sake, not the GOOGLES!

I have tried for a while now to get a photo of some of the cringe-worthy nonsense that goes on at the tanning place I patronize.These people do not OWN spell check. Or, you know, common sense. And tonight I captured a real winner. Please. Indulge. (The name of the place has been smudged to protect the innocent ridiculous.)

That third "paragraph" just gets me.

Speechless.

After seeing things like this - I am always disappointed in myself for not coming up with a similarly bonehead idea and making a bajillion dollars. I don't even know how to prepare you for this so. Just. Watch.

If the video doesn't work, please please click here to get the full experience.