I can’t believe I have yet to write about the story of Michael and the infamous spaghetti and meatballs. This story is classic Michael on a hunger bout. Maybe you all will start to feel a little sorry for me and what I have to live with every day when it comes to Michael and his meal time mood swings….No worries, I guess I went to culinary school for a reason – quick prep to abate Michael’s hunger temper tantrums.

Homemade Spaghetti (that’s parmesan cheese on top – not butter, I swear!)

It was late summer and we had just finished up a competitive game of coed beach volleyball. We all wanted to get drinks and some grub after the game. Covered in sand, we trudged into Sedgwick’s, a bar Michael and I had actually had dinner at a couple weeks earlier. Michael had ordered the spaghetti and meatballs then and loved them. He had his mind set on more.

It was getting late (maybe 8:00pm), and Michael hadn’t had anything to eat since 11:00am (Michael can’t wait any later than that for lunch). We all sat down and waited a decent amount of time for a server to come by. We each went around and placed our order with the waitress. Some of us ordered pizza, others salads, and Michael was last to order. He allegedly asked for the spaghetti and meatballs.

Then, the minutes ticked by. To Michael’s hungry tummy, the minutes seemed more like hours. After about 30 minutes and no food, Michael asked the waitress how the order was coming. Would it be out soon? Five minutes later, and still no food, Michael asked the waitress again where the food was, reiterating that he was starving. The rest of us were pretty chill about the wait – we were enjoying fun conversation and drinks. But Michael was hungry. He wouldn’t let it go.

Michael is happiest when mealtime is near.

Finally, the food showed up. Food was placed in front of each of us–each of us except for Michael. He had reached his boiling point.
“Where’s my spaghetti and meatballs?” he implored.
“Oh, let me go back and check on that,” said the waitress. A minute later, she came back and said they didn’t even have spaghetti and meatballs on the menu. “I’m new,” she said, “so I don’t know the menu that well.”
“I just ate it here a couple weeks ago! What do you mean it’s not on the menu?! And why didn’t you tell me that when you put the order in?”
Others at our table started to get uncomfortable due to the bright red color of Michael’s face. “You can have a couple slices of our pizza, Michael, we have plenty,” we said.
Then, the waitress, somewhat confused, said, “I didn’t even have you down for ordering anything. Are you sure you placed an order?”

Michael was furious. He stood up, and through clenched teeth, said to the waitress, “Why the [expletive] do you think I was constantly asking you about the status of our order? Of course I ordered something! I must have told you three [expletive] times how hungry I am! First you say that spaghetti and meatballs isn’t on the menu, then you change the story and say I never placed an order?!” Michael threw a crumpled up five dollar bill on the table (presumably to pay for his beer), and stormed out the door of the bar. We watched him stomp across the street and disappear.

“Is he coming back?” my friends asked me. How the heck was I supposed to know? Where did he go? Was he really THAT hungry? Some of us apologized to the waitress for Michael’s strange behavior. To Michael’s credit, the waitress did seem a tad…ditzy. We finished up our meal and paid the bill. Still no word from Michael. I would have expected a call or a text….but nothing. Apparently he was extremely upset about the spaghetti (or lack of).

Finally, on my way home by myself, I got a phone call from him. He was on his way home as well after a trip to Subway and phone calls to three of his closest friends about the gall of Sedgwick’s and that waitress. He said all of his friends agreed that his reaction was totally warranted (that’s probably why they’re his friends).

We never went to Sedgwick’s again (Michael boycotts it at all costs, and tries to get his friends to boycott it too). Whenever I make spaghetti, we laugh about Michael’s stomach and the temper that seems to go along with it. This recipe makes a whole lotta spaghetti. Keep it in the freezer so you’ll have it on hand in case “someone” gets super hungry. It might save a marriage.

Huge Batch of Spaghetti Sauce
(from Dianasaur Dishes)