We celebrated our three years of wedded bliss this past Monday night. We wanted to go somewhere special where we had never been before. I suggested we try The Melting Pot, which is a fondue restaurant. It's a little on the pricey side (or a lot if you are us) but since this was a special occasion, we decided to splurge.
So we put on some nic(er) clothes and headed out. Mamaw the Great, once again, offered to watch Asher for us. We don't know what we would do without her! We got to the restaurant and got seated. Our waiter was a little creepy, but other than that, we were looking forward to our meal.
First course--a cheese fondue served with various types of bread, some raw veggies, and some Granny Smith apples. The waiter prepares the fondue at your table. The fondue was okay, but the fact that some kid named Blake was preparing a portion of our $80 meal (not including drinks and tip)kind of irritated me. But oh well.
The second course was a salad. They were good--nothing spectacular, but good.
The main course was next. We selected the "Fondue Feast," which consisted of an assortment of beef, chicken, shrimp, and pork, all seasoned differently, and a platter of different types of veggies. Here's where the meal went completely south for us. The platter of meat they brought out was raw.
Blake the 20 year old starts explaining to us what to do, how long to cook each item, what each sauce is, etc. That's right...you cook the meat yourself!!! If I wanted to deal with raw chicken, I could have stayed at home. I'm looking at this guy like, "You're kidding me, right? You want me to pay you a lot of money to dump raw meat into a boiling pot of liquid, fish it out with your freaky slotted spoon, and then eat it?" Disturbing and disappointing all at the same time.
So Kris and I proceed to cook our own meal at our table. When I go out, the main purpose is so I don't have to do an darn thing but bring the fork to my mouth. The fact that we paid so much money (for a public school teacher and a stay-at-home mom, it's a lot!) to cook our own meal in a weird pot on a burner built into our table with a waiter that seemed to have a little trouble finding our table to refill our beverages after he dropped off the plate of carnage.
The final course was dessert--the only redeeming factor of the evening. I must say it was delicious. We ordered the Bananas Foster fondue with white chocolate. It was served with a little pieces of brownie, pound cake, rice krispy treat, fruit, and cheesecake. I thought they might make me go to the back and harvest my own strawberries, but thankfully, they were served to us without requiring manual labor on our part. What a relief.
So then Blake brings the check. The same Blake who couldn't be found for the greater portion of the meal. Kris pays. We wince at what we just spent for what we just got. We go home.
Thankfully, Kris and I truly enjoy each other's company.
It makes being married to each other so much nicer. So the fact that we got an evening out alone was great. We talked and laughed and reminisced. That part was wonderful.
We will probably never go back to The Melting Pot--I think we'll stick to Pappasitos Fajitas for any future celebrations.