The bartender rushes into the kitchen (maybe she walked…forgive the possible dramatic-memory-makes-for-a -better-blog thing) “Chef, I have an order and I am out of fresh mint and there’s none in the cooler.” Chef Clint Eastwood Cool-like (guilty again), “Well now, go on upstairs…herb shelf, towards the back, there’s mint.”.
Bartender returns to kitchen two minutes later, frantic, full-on-Kramer-slide past the cooks line, before she tilts toes up, smoke coming off the heels in a skidding greasy stop, and she wheels on Chef- “Dude, basil, cilantro, sage…no mint! Don’t you have ANY on the line…I HAVE TO MAKE A DRINK!!!.”
Chef, head tilted forward-down, toothpick in mouth, tongs tucked into belt– “No mint here missy…why doncha then just go ‘hed ‘n grab some scissors, and on out to the patio out there, and snip yerself some dem-mint leaves from doze der herb boxes” (Pretty certain he pronounced the H in herb)
The bartender dashed through the doors, through the door, through the door, down the stairs, up the stairs and through the gate…and snipped herself some fresh mint from dem- der herb boxes, and whisked back inside, leaving the essence of mint in the air, as the full patio cheered, and breathed deeply…seriously considering a Mojito for their next drink! Aaaah…really, really fresh mint.
True story. (mostly)
I don’t think the title of your article matches the content lol. Just kidding, mainly because I had some doubts after reading the article.