Cooks On Call Cafe

«So, what looks good, Mom?» I asked. «I’m getting the Beef and Blue. Thinly sliced roast beef, caramelized onions, provel and blue cheese, and garlic-​basil aioli. They put it on chiabatta and grill it on a pannini press.» It had been a couple months since I’d visited Cooks on Call and I was really looking forward to introducing this cute little sandwich shop and this excellent sandwich to my mom.
«Ugh. I can’t stand blue cheese! I want the French dip.»
How could this be? My own mother? Not like blue cheese?
«Look, I don’t vouch for the French dip. I mean, it’s just dry meat on a bun. A little tub of jus. Since when don’t you like blue cheese?» I hadn’t been this disillusioned since I discovered she hadn’t breast fed me as an infant.
«I’ve never liked blue cheese. How are the salads?»
«Good, Mom. The salads are fine. Look, you can turn ‘em into a wrap if you want at no extra charge.» I was trying to let this drop, but I had convinced her to drive out here to 141 & 40 specifically for the Beef and Blue. «You know, blue cheese when used sparingly yet effectively does not have to overpower. I mean, the Beef and Blue gets it right. Comes off that press all crunchy and melty. The sweetness of the onions play against the salty tang of the cheeses. It’s all tamed by the thick pile of rare beef. I don’t really taste the basil in the garlic-​basil aioli, but I don’t begrudge them a little poetic license.»
«Did you see the special when we walked in,» asked Mom, trying to ignore me.
«Yeah, Mom. Artichoke chicken. They do have some pretty good specials. They had a BBQ pulled pork once. Some kind of southwest chicken another time.» I was not to be deterred. «French dip? Any idiot can slap some beef on a roll and call it a French dip. What’s so damned French about it anyway?»
«It’s a cute place. Painted walls. Funky tablecloths. The sign outside just says „Café,“ though. Oh, look over there. The menu is on a giant black board. It does get a little busy at lunch time, doesn’t it?»
«I mean, beef. Bun. Jus. C’mon! When sandwich makers get burnt out and senile, they stick ‘em in the back of the kitchen with a bag of buns and tell ‘em to make French dips. Why don’t you just try the Beef and Blue?»
«Ever tried the soups?»
«Actually no, but I’ve been meaning to. They change daily, so that seems like a good sign. So, it’s the French dip, huh?»
«Yeah. Well, no.» She paused and my heart lept. «You know, I’ve changed my mind.» I knew I could convince her. I knew that she knew that if I said it was good, that was that and she could take it to the bank. «I’m actually not really that hungry. I’ll just watch you.»
There are few things as unsatisfying as sharing a meal with someone who is not eating. Though sometimes mothers let you down, you can always count on the Beef and Blue.