I posted recently wrote about my problems with DC area brunching. My wife, being my biggest fan, failed to read my blog as usual and sent me THIS. Yep, it's a "Bitches Who Brunch" review of some place called "Quench" in Rockville... Maryland... of all the Godforsaken places on earth. She is demanding we go there. Naturally, I have many problems with this.
First of all, we need to pay homage to the "Bitches Who Brunch," who are apparently so awesome at blogging that car companies give them vehicles to go brunch in for the weekend. I own a vehicle and I'm not allowed to borrow it... from my wife. These women are blog icons pushing the brunch envelope and encouraging all the behavior I abhorwhen it comes to what was once a straightforward Sunday institution. I'm sure they'll take a moment awayfrom driving whatever new car they were given this week to mock my thoughts on brunching and then go back to being fabulous. Let's not kid ourselves - I'm a caper on the smoked salmon of the blogosphere, they won't know this was even written.
So, the review looks fine. I give Quench points for having chicken and waffles without bones involved. I know chicken tastes better when cooked bone in, but wrestling through the finished product and always ending up spitting out connecting tissue negates the advance in taste. It's a waffle chicken sandwich with syrup - great... if you're into that. The grilled cheese sandwich, whichisn't at all a grilled cheese sandwich, looks pretty good. The food is likely good overall.
Is it drive ten hours to Rockville good? No. Does my wife understand this? No.
We live in Arlington - Court House area, if I may brag like the asshole I aspire to be. DC (NW) is close. Pentagon City is close. Del Ray is Siberia. Alexandria is the moon. Bethesda is Jupiter. Rockville is an undiscovered galaxy that we don't even have a space satellite telescope powerful enough to take a picture of yet. I am not driving to an undiscovered galaxy because they serve boneless chicken and waffles.
I do not like Maryland. I don't know what it is, but I dislike it. To get me to wake up early on Saturdayor Sunday to drive to Rockville with a screaming two year-old in the back seat, they better be holding a "trade your family in for a pool table and a beer fridge" event at place that serves bacon macaroni and cheese pot pies. It is unlikely such a place exists in that state, much less this country. I'm sure Bangkok is overrun with such places.
With all of that said... I'll likely be found in Rockvilleat Quench this Sunday. I'll be the defeated man holding the two year-old shooting fire tornadoes from its mouth. Pray for me and somebody tell the Bitches Who Brunch to keep their Rockville related thoughts themselves - our wives are impressionable!