Late night creep after peeping some spoken word landed me in the land of Swingers. The restaurant that is. Address is yada yada yada somewhere on Beverly Blvd. Google it! They gets no love from me.
Nope, they’re not a vegan spot. Yep, they offer vegan/vegetarian options. Nope, I wouldn’t call it food. Thought long and hard before ordering because everything was soy, processed, soy and processed. Is this Veggie Grill?
Decided on avocado toast sans chili flakes and an order of fries. Had to send the fries back because they were undercooked. The same fries reappeared five minutes later. Grease spots intact on wax paper lining the basket and a degree or two darker.
If you look closely at the left piece of toast you’ll see what appears to be a tiny lump of mucus. It was actually pieces from the lemon they generously squeeze on before flying it out of the pickup window. I’m guessing their one star chef didn’t give it a second thought. All I kept saying was, “That looks like snot on my toast and it’s soggy as hell.”
I’ll take the ‘L’ on this one. That’s loss for those trapped in the vernacular closet. I hadn’t eaten much all day and was beginning to feel sick and Swingers was the closest spot to the venue. Writers gotta eat too. Just not here. There. Or anywhere where the music is obnoxiously loud, the food is awful(I saw a few meat eaters cringing over their plates too) and your server is merely a mirage. Of course really really really drunk people won’t mind the substandard fare. That seems to be the restaurant’s draw approaching the wee hours.
Even their cookies sucked. I snagged a vegan Snickerdoodle(not pictured) for the road. It was so hard it could have been the road.
As a vegan I should have known better. But most importantly I should have planned better. My stomach still hurts. And I’ve been sick all day. One cup of peppermint tea with more than a splash of almond milk coming right up! Ummm… I’m gon’ need a baby wig. I can feel my hair growing back…On my chest!