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It’s a BYOS pizza party

Submitted by on Sunday, 8 June 2008 No Comment

Originally publish Nov. 8, 2007, thehive.modbee.com

I’ve been to restaurants that have gone above and beyond the call to let Big Guy eat, and I’ve been to restaurants that have moved heaven and earth in an attempt that fell a bit short.

But never, in decades of dealing with food allergies, have I been to a restaurant that’s charged me to bring my own food. Or part of it, at least.

The situation: Big Guy’s end-of-season soccer party is Saturday, so I called the pizza place today to see if he was going to be able to eat their food. I had pretty much assumed he wouldn’t – Italian food is a real challenge when you have a garlic allergy. Che Debra is about the only joint I know that regularly serves garlic-free marinara.

So I asked about garlic first, figuring I’d get to egg questions if I got the right answer on the garlic. And of course I didn’t.

I’ll need to bring a pizza for him then, I said.

We don’t allow outside food other than desserts, I was told.

“So I’m supposed to tell a 4-year-old he has to sit and watch his friends eat pizza?” I asked, admittedly a little more sharply that I should have, but I was starting to get ticked. We’ve taken pizzas to two other restaurants when we’ve been there as part of a party, and it’s been no problem.

She assured me that they could make Big Guy a pizza with cheese and whatever else he likes on it.

“He likes sauce,” I said.

“Our sauce has garlic in it.”

“Yes, that’s why I wanted to bring my own.”

“Let me get a manager. Maybe you could bring your sauce.”

The manager agreed that I could bring the sauce and they would make the pizza. Which I will, of course, pay for.

I completely understand how difficult it is for restaurants to deal with food allergies – that’s why there are only three of them on the list of places where we can comfortably eat. I get that restaurants are in business to make money, and they would have a hard time doing that if people showed up with their own food.

However, in this situation, letting me bring a pizza would not have cost them one dime of revenue. The party’s already paid for – including Big Guy’s share.

I suppose I should be happy that I don’t have to add pizza crust to the mile-long list of things I have to bake in the next two days, between this party and a potluck tomorrow night.

I guess I should be grateful that we worked out something, so Big Guy can go to the party and not starve.

But the whiny part of me still is feeling gouged.

Copyright 2007 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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