Everyone knows how much I love a good meal out. There's no feeling like sinking my teeth into a delectable delicacy or cutting into a creativity I myself could never consider. All that cutting and chewing will cost you, but what you pay for is an experience that you'll never forget.
Company aside, Fig turned out to be the exact opposite of the experience I aim to buy...unless I'm investing in a quinoa cleanse. The Quinoa starter, with its soft grains of America's newest superfood mixed with apples, carrots, and a nutty crunch, was the ultimate mix of hearty and light, an artful assembly of sweet and tart, chewy and crisp.
Unfortunately, this is where the need-to-pay-someone-else-for-the-experience aspect ends. The Tomato Soup is tangy-fresh, but you'll get thrice for half the price if you trade it for a carton of Tomato and Roasted Red Pepper Soup from your favorite Trader by the name of Joe. To replicate the entire experience, simply spread some high-end mascarpone on a crostini, dunk into your freshly microwaved soup, and enjoy in the comfort of your own home.
The middle of my meal was no better. The Short Rib can be braised halfway-tender In a generic red wine-ish reduction in any kitchen and any pan. Just add a side of too-salty greens and serve it on a pretty platter.
I've had better short rib, but at least I could describe it as edible. The Chicken was like chewing on strips of suede. Dry and bland with nothing notable except a crispy, salt-less skin, I wouldn't even want to make this at home unless I lived in seawater. At least the chicken with orange sauce at Trader Joes comes with some kind of flavor.
These entrees had me begging for mercy, which the Panna Cotta delivered...in the form of mousse. Because it didn't really have the creamier, looser texture of panna cotta. But the last time I tried making mousse it looked like tapioca and tasted like items not considered food so I don't dare say I could try this at home.
Panna cotta could school the most skilled of chefs, but the Strawberry Tres Leches Cake will turn any kitchen klutz into an dessert chef extraordinaire. To replicate, leave a slice of angel food cake uncovered for half a day, slather on a rather rubbery sauce, slap on a scoop ice cream, and spoon on some sliced strawberries and jam.
Despite the abysmal entrees, I held out hope for a happy ending, but it turns out those only happen in Disneyland...which is even more expensive than a decent meal. Everyone knows I'll be the first to splurge on both dinner and Disneyland...and maybe even dinner at Disneyland, but why pay more when you can do it yourself for less? Forget Fig, next time I want organic I'll be eating at (Trader) Joes.
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