A few months ago, I went to a nice-ish restaurant near my apartment. I ordered a fresh tuna burger, rare.
"Like it might swim away," I joked to the waiter.
He looked down at me. "That is called 'black and blue,'" he sniffed.
Well, excuse me and my lack of knowledge regarding fancy foods. When I think black and blue, I think of what my right knee and elbow look like right now. (Perhaps I should not have run two miles and then spent 20 minutes on the elliptical machine after my little accident, but I didn't drag my ass to the gym just to go home and it only stung a little at the time....) However, a nice frozen tuna steak would be great to put on the injury at this moment.
that's news to me. black & blue means either a guinness & blue moon (like a black & tan-also known as a belgian waffle) or in reference to food a bleu cheese burger. ;)
ReplyDeletelearn something new every day!
Glad I am not the only one not in the know. I felt like such an idiot. (He was actually a super nasty waiter in general.) I never heard a Belgian waffle referred to as a black & tan. I love that.
ReplyDeleteI have only heard black and blue in reference to steak. There is even a high end stake place in the UK called Black and Blue that bought out a Texas BBQ Chain in London (seriously) that has been renovating the empty storefront on Turnham Green Terrace that's been abandoned during each of your three visits to London since I moved to Chiswick. Shame, because I could murder some BBQ right around now.
ReplyDeleteMe, from work (Shhhh! don't tell)
ps forgot to mention I only know the term from working as a waitress for 7 years . . . . .
ReplyDeleteOne perk I've found to knowing the term "black and blue" is that it instant wins you respect in any restaurant good enough to serve their food that way. It's how I prefer my steak cooked (or uncooked, as is more the case) and no matter how scruffy I look when I enter a White businessman steakhouse, the waiters always look impressed when I order my meat ultra-rare. Knowledge is power! Or something.
ReplyDeleteI have never heard of that before either.
ReplyDeleteUnrelated someone at the Y insisted on wearing her sweatshirt tied around her waist after the staff apparently told her not to. Her sweatshirt fell off and got caught in the treadmill. She got mad and stormed out and then came back because her keys were in the pocket. She pitched a fit until the staff was able to pull out enough of the sweatshirt that they could cut the keys off and then she left in a huff. They had to call in professionals to fix it. You know who's going to end paying for that. Yeah, the rest of us.
I am apparently uncool because I refer to how I like my steaks as "still mooing just a little if you poke them" if I am feeling frisky.
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