Monte Cristo

One of my first real jobs was at a tea room. When I say real, I mean I actually got paid. In money. It was the summer before high school and my friend Laurie and I served Devon Tea, iced sandwich loaf and quiche to (mostly) old ladies. We once talked a young man who worked down the street into coming in for lunch. We were silly and giggly and served him a Monte Cristo. If you’ve never had one, it’s kind of like a combination of grilled cheese and French toast. They were served with the crusts cut off and cut into 3 fingers. I’m pretty sure the poor guy left hungry. And embarrassed.

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