This week my quest for the ultimate shopping mall food court led me to the South Pointe Mall Food Court at 3000 Pine Lake Rd.
Parking was, well, shopping mall parking lot parking. I parked next to a Ford F-150 that was taking up three and a half spots. I tried not to let it bother me. It was eatin’ time!
First stop in the outdoor food court was a slick looking bistro simply named “Verizon.” Wow. It looked fancy on the outside, and the sleek counters and posh seating in the waiting room were out of this world. The hostess was carrying a tablet and wearing one of those Bluetooth ear pieces, this may have been the fanciest eatery I had ever stepped foot in, which is a shame because I left just seconds later after the hostess told me there was a 90 minute wait to be assisted. I wish I had eaten a bigger lunch.
Next stop in the South Pointe food court was a restaurant by the name “Michael’s.” I smiled as I walked in, hoping to be greeted by Michael, the owner. There were a lot of cooks, in red aprons, but I couldn’t find an owner, host stand, or really any seating.
This food establishment was really weird, like kind of a farmer’s market vibe. Little kiosks of food items and other trinkets. One end-cap nearby had a few dishes. I sampled some multigrain called “potpourri.” While the bite had some nice crunch, I couldn’t wrap my head around the flavor profiles.
I did eat quite a bit because of how hungry I was, but I decided I was over the new age hippie-dippie take on dining. That Trader Joe’s across the street turned all of these South Lincolnites into a bunch of freaks. I paid one of the red-apron chefs on my way out, (they had Sour Patch Kids at the register, so I bought some,) and headed to my final stop!
The last eatery was a little bit of a longer walk, so I tore open my bag of Sour Patch Kids and popped a green one into my mouth. I winced as the intense sour notes took over on my tongue, but closed my eyes at the instant relief of the sugar grains dissolving as the fake, green, lime flavoring satisfied my taste buds.
Finally, I had reached the final dining destination: Hacienda Real. While Verizon and Michael’s served ambiguity, dressed in a modern twist, Hacienda Real presented itself proudly from the exterior as a Mexican Food Restaurant. My mouth watered as I approached the front door, followed by a grumbling in my tummy. I thought about how hungry I was.
I feel just terrible. I wasn’t three feet into the front door jog when I projectile vomited a single Sour Patch Kid followed by a pound of my potpourri appetizer all over the hostess. I still hear her screams as I write this. Wherever you are, Guadalupe, I am so truly sorry.
Adding insult to stomach pumping, the Ford F-150 guy dinged my door, and it took me 45 minutes to get to the hospital because no one on Pine Lake knew how to drive on the round-a-bout.