My parents pulled a fast one on me last night. Actually, I believe my brother Chris was involved too. They were celebrating my dad’s birthday (which is today, Happy Birthday Dad!) with a night out at the Outback Steakhouse and I decided to go on the condition that I’d get to eat the Bloomin’ Onion. It’s been years.
In fact, I think that last time we were at Outback Steakhouse was more than 10 years ago in Vegas. I remember the glorious onion flower from then. My food memories are long.So I went along to my parents’ house, skipped a night I could’ve used to catch up on Criminal reading, and happily chattered about how excited I was to eat a Bloomin’ Onion the entire car ride to the Outback by Serramonte.
I didn’t even care when I opened the menu and found that they list the calorie count of every dish. It was worth the 1966 calories to me. Because I was obviously going to eat the entire thing, duh.
Then my dad dropped the bomb. He wanted the cheese fries. Why couldn’t we get the onion too? Too much food? Too much grease? I don’t care. I ordered it anyway. But somehow, the Bloomin’ Onion never came. I suspect some shenanigans occurred when I went to the bathroom. They might have cancelled my order. I wouldn’t put it past them.
I waited patiently through the appetizers thinking they’d bring my onion masterpiece after we were done with the clam chowders and the oily bacon-covered cheese fries with ranch dipping sauce. The fries were pretty tasty, I have to admit though.
But then entrees came. And I was still onionless. I knew the game was up. The table was too full to eat an onion. Even I was too full to eat the onion.
I ordered the enormous Oreo Chocolate Waffle dessert thing out of spite. Didn’t really make me feel better. So I swiped a couple of awesome pieces from my mom’s closet. Show you soon. Muahaha.
Never mess with a girl’s Bloomin’ Onion.