Maria, the Kid Formerly Known as the Blogger Toddler and I headed to the Westfield Topanga mall on Sunday to meet up with the extended family for lunch at California Pizza Kitchen.
It was Evan's nine-year-old
As I dug into my Chipotle Chicken pizza (not bad, like the spice), I bit on a small, hard nugget. Must be some sort of overcooked corn kernel, I rationalized.
And I nearly swallowed it. But something told me to spit it out anyway, it case it was a bone of some sort.
It wasn't a bone. I spit out a nut.
No, not a peanut or any sort of nut. I mean, metallic nut, as in nuts and bolts.
Was someone working on construction right above the pizza making area? Should I have clarified that I prefer my pizza to be free of metallic hardware?
I told the waiter and showed him the nut -- complete with my saliva, still on it -- and he promised to have another pizza quickly made. Later, we saw that the pizza had been removed from the bill.
The waiter uttered one "sorry about that," but we never heard from the manager, and we weren't ever offered anything as an apology. Should we have made a bigger stink? What would you have done?
And remember, if you're dining at the Westfield Topanga branch of California Pizza Kitchen, do yourself a favor and run that pizza through a quick metal detector -- you'll be glad you did!
(Above, my leftover pizza -- yeah, I still ate it all.)