Menus that list some of, but not all, the ingredients in a dish


If a menu entry reads “Classic burger – £8.99” I’m going to enquire a little. I hate mayonnaise, you see. Can’t stand it. It doesn’t make the list because some people like it and this blog isn’t about things that only I hate, it’s about things that any reasonable human being should hate if they had even a modicum of intelligence. And mayonnaise, as utterly repellent as I find it, is perfectly entitled to exist for the pleasure it brings others. But I will ask the waitress if it exists specifically in their classic burger because if by default it does, I would prefer a modified version that does not. Such scarce intel on the menu’s part has made it a necessity to find out.

However, if a menu entry reads “Classic burger – a prime, ground beef patty topped with tomato relish, enclosed in a sesame seed bun, with onion and lettuce – £8.99” then I won’t ask for clarification. Why on God’s green Earth would I? They’ve gone out of their way to list what I assume to be all the ingredients, right down to the bun (which usually comes as standard with this particular dish, but the heads-up about the sesame seeds was a nice touch) and there is absolutely no mention of anything white and foul tasting. I’m safe.

So why, disinterested, pallid, Ultimo-enhanced waitress, IS THERE FUCKING MAYONAISSE IN MY FUCKING BURGER??!!!

Is it because your employers think it’s such a minor detail that it needn’t feature on the menu description because – hey – everyone likes mayonnaise, don’t they? NO THEY FUCKING DON’T!! And since you went out of your way to explain that this particular burger would perhaps surprise me compared to other burgers I have had in the past by virtue of coming in a bun, you could’ve taken the time to tell me about the vile tangy paste you were going to spread all over it first.

And a news flash for Italian restaurants: not everyone one likes Parmesan. I know that’s fucking sacrilege in your country, but not everyone’s a fan. So do me a favour: when you place the gorgeous-looking pasta dish on the table in front of me, give me at least a millisecond’s warning before you spoon a shitload of shaved cheese on it. Cheers!

One comment

  1. Aye fucking men. I hate mayo too with a passion.

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