Foodie conquers Maine St. at Joshua's
He could run, but he couldn't hide. The Foodie had been in hot pursuit of Joshua since she first adopted her Foodie title, but her underage status kept her from engaging him in culinary combat. Until now.
Last week the Foodie spied his wee announcement in the Orient. Like the hopping white tail of a chased deer, Joshua's ad beguiled her on page three and then again on page seven: "Under 21 Now Allowed Until 9:00 p.m." Upon scanning the copy, the Foodie tore out the invitation to battle, secured a bayonet to her fork, and cried, "He's mine!"
The Foodie was not daunted by tinted windows or the fluorescent outlines of beer brands that decorated them. She was determined to resist the advances of the waitstaff; given what used to be Joshua's firm 21-plus policy, she thought for sure the place would be drenched in beer, that the waitstaff would force her to guzzle an entire keg of Sam Adams, that she'd become so sick of the stuff that she'd swear off alcohol before she was even old and responsible enough to try it! The Foodie is happy to report that her suspicions about Joshua's were not confirmed.
Like eager Civil War infantrymen, the Foodie and her Foodie Friend stealthily snuck past Joshua's sentry and into HQ to choose their table. Though Joshua's claims it is "smoke free," the Foodie was chagrined to smell cigarette residue; such a scent not only can distract diners from the sensory dining experience, but it can also "perfume" the food itself. The Foodie recommends that Joshua acquire better ventilation for the dining satisfaction of his guests. If one does smoke, however, he or she may find the environment pleasurable.
As the day was chilly, the Foodie opted to warm her heart with a cup of chili; the bowl squirted chunks of beef and beans as she punctured the warm blanket of cheese that topped them. Although the chili was a bit too sweet for her taste, the Foodie did find it spicy, just the way she likes it. The Foodie Friend opted for fish chowder, which, he declared, did not earn its "chowdah" title as the thin broth did not satisfy him as he had expected Maine "chowdah" would.
Tender chicken slices coated in spicy, tomato-based cajun seasoning tumbled out of the sesame seed bun in the Cajun Chicken Sandwich the Foodie and her Friend shared. The sandwich was pure: no tomato slices, no lettuce, no onion. The accompanying french fries pleased the Foodie most; they were crispy and lightly salted. The Foodie particularly appreciated that the fries still had their skins as she was able to convince herself she was eating nutritiously.
After the Foodie left Joshua's, she pulled out her knife-and-fork-emblazoned red flag and swung it proudly through the air. She then plunged it deep into the concrete before the tavern and cried, "At last, Maine Street dining is mine!"
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