Thursday, April 2, 2009

The Mile Square

221 Washington Street / 201-420-0222

Katharine: "Chel - I'm hung over. I need some food. Now."
Chelsea: "Ugh me too. Where should we go? I want chicken fingers."
K: "I want pizza. Let's go to Mile Square."
C: "No way—it’s too far. I can’t make it."
K: "Commonnnn its so good, Chelly bean."
C: "Fine. See you there in 2 minutes."

And so goes the conversation between Chelulite and Fat Kat most Saturday mornings. Yes, there are usually that many name references (I don’t know why but I always call Chelsea by one of the many (usually semi-offensive) pet names that I keep for her), and yes, Chelsea always pretends she doesn’t want to go to Mile Square, though I know secretly she’s already getting dressed and ready to meet me there. Call is playing hard to get, call it bluffing badly; I call it love. Then we dive into one of our standard morning-after meals. A pill alone won’t solve this one. We need the care of our favorite smiley waitress and New Jersey grease to normalize. The four cheese pizza is our go-to. It’s great. It has a nice soft crust and thick layer of delicious cheese. They sidestep the whole tomato sauce convention in favor of more cheese. And I say right on. I was never one to follow conventions. Conventions that reduce my cheese intake anyways.

Though Chelsea claims that she doesn’t love their chicken fingers, she has no problem returning and repeatedly ordering them each Saturday. So if you ask me, she's just pretending (again, back to playing hard to get…). Why? It defies convention and would be irresponsible for me to guess in this widely followed, public forum. So I will leave this one open for Chelsea to comment on.

The food is always as expected and the environment is casual, so it’s perfect for lunch on a Saturday—if you live like Chelsea and I do, always. Prices are as expected and the service is always very nice and attentive. Date spot? Not if you want it to be a repeat occurrence. Family friendly (aka kid friendly)? I shudder at the thought. Just stick to bringing your friends in for lunch and we’ll all do the Saturday shuffle together. Hey – no judgments.

Side note: Do not let the sweet talking waitress fool you like she did us. The refills on diet coke are not free. I repeat NOT free. One Saturday morning, when we were still a bit hazy from our shenanigans the night before, the waitress took advantage of our camel-like thirst and continued bringing us refills. The total was like $60 - about $40 of which was on our diet cokes! Do not fall for those fluttering eyelashes and that sweet smile... just like they say in health class –know what you're getting into and protect yourself!

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