This post by Jennifer Flaten
Remember how you’re taught that assuming something can make an a$$ out of you and me? Well, the result of my assuming wasn’t quite that bad, but it did leave a bad taste in my mouth.
Let this serve as a cautionary tale.
Yesterday was staff lunch day at work. We have staff lunch once a month and it is usually a potluck and yesterday’s was no different. I walked into the conference room and found a nice array of food.
I’d brought a fruit plate. When I signed up for my item I noticed that the only other person signed up was bringing muffins. I joked that we had the makings of a nice continental breakfast, it seems my joke stuck because the other items on the buffet included an egg casserole and what looked, to me, like a strawberry (perhaps even with rhubarb) fruit crisp.
The mystery dish was a deep maroon red with pieces of what could only be strawberries. Plus, it had a lovely sprinkle of walnuts on top, so I plopped a nice scoop on my plate. At this point, I should have asked, but I didn’t.
At the table I’m biting into my blueberry muffin, when I hear a co-worker asking the maker of the “fruit” salad if it was his version of ambrosia. His explanation seemed a bit elaborate, but someone talked over him, so I didn’t couldn’t really hear his reply.
Muffin finished it was time to eat the compote/ambrosia/crisp thing. I took my fork and stirred it around. Hmm, what is that big slab of red…is it a strawberry. Of course, it’s a strawberry, after all this is some sort of strawberry fruit compote/ambrosia crisp thing. I mean, I assume it is.
Just then I heard the salad’s maker talking about how he uses both fresh and frozen raspberries in his salad…okay, so this is some sort of fruit salad.
I popped the forkful in my mouth. It took approximately one second for me to realize my mistake. This was NOT a fruit salad. Nor was it a compote/ambrosia/crisp.
This was, in fact, a veggie salad. Specifically a beet salad. The strangest beet salad (my apologies to its maker) I’ve ever had. It had raspberries, a raspberry sauce, mandarin oranges and beets.
Let me just say, I don’t hate beets. If pressed I would say even that I am okay with them. When I know they are beets. When they are a strawberry trojan horse I don’t like them.
My first instinct was to spit it out-violently, but I couldn’t spit it out. For goodness sake’s I am at WORK I should act like an adult. So I dutifully chewed the offending beet and washed it down with a lot of water and a nice bite of egg casserole.
I poked the beet salad one more time for good measure, just to see if any strawberries were in it.
Another co-worker plopped down next to me, she had a blop of the beet salad on her plate. She motioned to it with her fork and said “This looks interesting…how is it?”
I replied that it was made with beets (trying to suppress the shudder). My co-worker frowned at the salad and used her fork to move it to the far edges of her plate.
She she didn’t assume…she asked. Thus saving herself from the beets.