For three days, Slick has been raving about the white pizza at The Essential Baking Company, a prime purveyor of all things baked for regional restaurants, stores and cafes. And for the past week, I've been walking by the bakery, which is two blocks from their apartment, inhaling the yeasty, wheaty smell and wishing I had time to go in.
Finally, this afternoon, we headed over for lunch. Slick ordered tomato soup and two portions of the white pizza, which is essentially an aromatic foccaccia; I ordered a cup of soup and a crepe. La Sorella went for a curried chicken sandwich.Our food came fairly fast, and disappeared faster. Slick was in heaven, chomping on his beloved white pizza. All was essentially well.
And then, I spotted it: A slice of white pizza, on someone's soup plate. It was supposed to come with my order, but they didn't include it.
"Want me to see if it they'll give the slice they were supposed to include?" I asked.
"You don't have to -- I have enough here."
"Maybe you'll want some later?"
I went up to the counter to inquire if the soup normally comes with foccaccia, and when she said yes, I asked for a slice. She gave me two!
It was not a very gutsy asking. But even a tiny request that might make someone else happy is not, essentially, insignificant.
Gained: Two slices of white pizza.
