It’s been a hard few weeks. My super fun time blog has gotten all sad and neglected as I go through the grieving process, today is the first time I have felt like maybe I should get back into my day to day and things I used to like doing. It’s hard to go out and do fun stuff when you have had a miscarriage, but one of the things I have been doing is eating. Not always the healthiest emotional coping strategy, but fuck it, I’m not perfect and we all have our vices. Let my pain guide you to some yummy eateries.
So the other night after taking a break from crying, I was hungry but didn’t feel like cooking. Husband named all the restaurants he could think of, and I kept saying, no. No. No. No. Until he said “How about the Monaco Inn?” Ahh the Monaco Inn, he had taken me there once before, it’s in the same plaza as the dreaded Hobby Lobby(FUCK YOU HOBBY LOBBY AND FUCK YOU SUPREME COURT) on Monaco & Leetsdale and next to my beloved Bagel Store.** The Monaco Inn is an old timey joint, Husband told me that it was his family’s go to neighborhood restaurant when he was a kid, fancy meal time. The menu is amazing. It’s Greek, American and Mexican. That doesn’t amaze me, what amazes me is the food is all delicious. I had the special, a lamb shank in “special Greek sauce” with Greek potatoes and vegetables. My meal came with a “special Greek soup”*** all the Greek stuff is special, but that soup lived up to it’s specialness, it was fucking delicious. I feared dairy after a few orgasmic slurps and gave the rest to my man.(After I got pregnant I was farting so much I ate dairy whenever I felt like it, now that I am no longer pregnant I try to abstain but sometimes my sadness outweighs my desire to not to drop stinky farts and I eat the thing that makes me feel better) Husband had some giant burrito and they were both extremely tasty. I didn’t have any of his, but he was all:
The average age of the wait staff is 97, but the service is great! Attentive without hovering, I saw our old ass waiter tottering over a couple of times only to realize we were in deep with our conversation and he wisely moved away. One of my pet peeves in restaurants is waiters interrupting you to say, “Everything okay here?” Like, unnecessarily, you know what I mean if you are a bitch in restaurants. Then, where the fuck are they when you need another drink? NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
We had a couple of drinks with dinner(oh they have a full bar, which is nice if you want some prosecco and a sambuca for your after dinner drink, which I did. But they don’t put a coffee bean in your sambuca, and I was like what’s up with that? And Grandpa Server said, “Meh they don’t do it right here” he knew what I was talking about, I think.). Husband and I are big into safety first(him waaaay more than me, he’s a fucking safety monitor and it is SO ANNOYING like, all of the time, especially if I get hurt after not listening to his warnings) and we don’t drink and drive. He’d had two beers with dinner and said, “Hey let’s go over to the King Sooper’s, you gotta see it plus I’m not ready to drive yet.” I was thinking why, so I said, “Why?”
“They have a special Jewish section.”
Now, I’m not technically a Jew, because I’m not Jewish. But I grew up in Westchester County NY, have a Jewish first and middle name, a mother who drops Yiddish phrases on the reg(courtesy of a Jewish uncle) and a father that bakes his own matzah. Some of my best friends are Jews LITERALLY(screw you Merriam and Webster) and my husband is a quarter Jewish. What can I say? I love Jews. If I were not an atheist, I would convert, even if everyone in Temple would whisper behind my back, “She’s a convert.” Anyway, Husband was all, “Wait till you see it!” But even he was unprepared for the remodel and the “KOSHER EXPERIENCE”!
“Whoah” He says. “That’s new. Before it was just like, a little section.” Now, it’s an EXPERIENCE.
We decided to experience a few things. Happily,all of our Jewish Kosher booty was also dairy free, which makes my lactard heart sing with joy. It was all good, except for the chocolate covered Marshmallows, they were all white and hard and stale. I will be taking them back tomorrow, when I go to THE BAGEL STORE. Tune in for that bitches.
*Not to be confused with Queen Soopers, the gay King Sooper’s in Cap Hill. Although I don’t know what’s so gay about it, it’s not like they give you poppers with every purchase.
**The Bagel Store is the best bagel in Denver because even though it’s not that good, all other bagels suck and I will punch you in the face if you try to talk about a good bagel outside of NY. I take that shit VERY seriously.
*** Husband INSISTED I put the name of the soup Avgolemeno**** and kindly googled it for me for your information.
****FUCK! Husband just read out his Google results and it didn’t have dairy. I could have eaten the whole thing if I had just asked Old Whatever-his-name-was.