It was my fortieth birthday recently. So I decided to go with my wife to a high-class Italian restaurant to celebrate.
My wife took a half day off from work, so that we could go while my son was at nursery. We chose an expensive restaurant which has a relationship with our health insurance provider. That relationship meant that we could eat for half the normal price, as long as we showed them our insurance cards.
Having a four year old son, it is difficult to go to any restaurant that is not a family restaurant. So we hadn’t eaten any gourmet food for years. We were both really looking forward to the experience. We spent ages debating which course we should select – the 4,000 Yen, 6,000 Yen, or 8,000 Yen per head course? In the end we settled on the 6,000 Yen per head course, which we could get for just 3,000 Yen each.
This meal came with a meat dish, a fish dish, a pasta dish, soup, salad, bread, dessert, and coffee. We spent a lovely evening debating truffles versus duck, and sorbet versus tiramisu. Then my wife completed the on-line booking, and we went to bed happy.
The restaurant is far from our house. So we had to take a 55 minute bus ride to get there. It was cold on the bus, because all of the windows were open. But we were warmed by the thought of the Italian delicacies we would soon be enjoying.
We got to the restaurant, had our temperature taken, disinfected our hands, and handed over our insurance cards. A slight smell of exotic cheeses drifted from a luxurious tray carried by a passing waiter.
“Ah, you did make a reservation, didn’t you?” said the receptionist.
“Yes,” said my wife, brightly.
“It’s just that we have no record of your reservation,” said the receptionist. “You do know that in order to eat a course lunch, you have to book at least two days in advance, don’t you?”
My wife’s on-line reservation hadn’t been completed correctly. We couldn’t eat the course lunch. And the staff weren’t in any way sympathetic.
“All we can serve you is the daily pasta lunch, or the chicken lunch. It’s 550 Yen. It comes with some bread.”
My wife said quietly, “Um, I have an egg allergy.”
The receptionist didn’t look pleased. “You had better eat the chicken lunch then, without any bread.”
I just hope I can survive until my fiftieth birthday lunch.
Vocabulary:
a health insurance provider – a company which will help to pay your medical costs if you get sick
gourmet food – luxury or high-class food
per head – for each person
a delicacy – a rare or luxury food dish
to disinfect something – to thoroughly clean something, to remove viruses
ashes – the black and grey powder that is left after something is burned
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