Monday, 27 July 2009

Tostadas in London Rescued by the French!

Now perhaps it is my emotional state due to my nearing departure from the UK, but I swear I was nearly brought to tears by the kindness of a stranger. It happened yesterday at the Whole Foods (yes, I finally found it 8 days before said departure!); I had just toured Kensington Palace (the former home of Princess Diana) and I was starving. After perusing the third floor organic market cafe, I finally decided on Mexican. I approached the counter and was met by a young man who would both take my order and prepare my meal. He was not happy to be a burrito /tostada/ taco man and he let me know it. There were no menus so I was forced to ask questions and he was irritated beyond belief when I asked what came on the tostada. In my weakened state, I could not fight back and I really didnt' care to because I just wanted peace and some food. Project Smile London was on hiatus with this guy, I reasoned that my ability to restrain myself from verbally assaulting him was gift enough. Anyway, in retaliation for me asking questions, he scooped minescule amounts of rice, beans, chicken, guac and cheese into my BIG tostada bowl. For a brief moment I was tempted to question his laddeling technique but then I wondered if I wasn't being paranoid -- lots of mean people in a mean city can make you paranoid after a few months! I tried to be rational about the whole thing. "Come on Jennifer, this is what everyone gets," I told myself. As I walked my meager contents within their big bowl to the cashier, I wondered how this could cost 5.99. But, I wasn't going to make trouble, you know, the stiff upper lip and all. I could do with a few less calories since I wasn't eating live anymore... And then it happened, the nicest thing ever, the young, French man at the till looked at my pathetic tostada fillings and said, "That seems small."
My eyes widened with shock. "Yes, I thought so too. But that guy over there isn't very happy and he took it out on my tostada."
"Well, if he isn't happy, that isn't your problem." The nicest French man on earth said.
"Thanks, but I don't want to make any trouble. I'll just pay." I said (yes, I swear this is true).
"No! If I were you, I'd be angry. Let me take care of this." And he whisked away my paultry tostada.
He returns a few moments later with a tostada flowing with yummy Mexican contents and says, "I put myself in your shoes. You pay. You want the right amount."
I smiled at that nice, French man living in London and I wondered how long he's been living here and if he's originally from the South of France...


  1. WOW! TWO nice French men in 2 weeks! There is hope afterall!

  2. i love your illustrative descriptions in this one! i don't know why but whenever i try to "follow" your blog my safari shuts down ; (