Lunch #11: Pizza, Salad and Zombies at The Pasta Factory

First I have to confess that the lunch I’m describing now took place a week ago. If it had happened today, I would not have been able to blog about it.

This is owing to new and rather strict blogging controls at my place of work. People have been hauled from the building (sometimes without even being allowed to reach the ground floor first) for blogging during work hours. Okay, they haven’t really, but stern words have been spoken, some of them to me.

So right up front, I wish to make it very clear: this post was definitely not written during official working hours.

If that is clear to everyone, I will now get on with the lunch.

As usual, I broke my own rule of sticking to lunch spots in Long Street. The Pasta Factory is in Park Road, which is just off Kloof Street which, as everyone knows, is really just Upper Long Street. So I think that’s close enough. Besides, ‘One Woman’s Quest For Lunch within Walking Distance of an Office in Gardens’ doesn’t have a very catchy ring to it.

When you arrive at The Pasta Factory, they give you a plastic credit card that they swipe every time you order something. Unfortunately, just like a credit card, you do have to pay it off in the end.

As usual, I went with the YP. The YP was in an Odd Mood, possibly because he’d arranged to have people over for dinner that evening and he can’t actually cook anything besides stir-fry. I insisted, maybe a bit tactlessly, that I wasn’t in the mood for stir-fry.

Then, when it came to ordering, we both wanted the pizza. The Pasta Factory is (was?) running a special where there are three items on the menu each day for only R30 each. Last Friday, there was a pizza, a salad and some other thing that I can’t remember now because it was last Friday. I insisted that we share a pizza and a salad, even though the YP just wanted pizza and didn’t want salad. The YP tried to get the waitress on his side, but she was as neutral as Sweden (although not as chilly).

Between the stir-fry and the pizza, the YP was starting to look a little sulky. This was probably not the right time to mention that I expected him to join me in dressing up as a zombie  and doing the Zombie Walk the next (this) weekend. The Zombie Walk involves lots of people dressed as zombies walking – although preferably staggering – from The Company Gardens to the V&A Waterfront, attempting to scare people along the way and then drinking beer afterwards. (Little known zombie fact: When there’s a shortage of brains, beer will do.) Zombie walks are popular all over the world and it’s about time Cape Town had one. If you’re keen on coming, you can find out about it on Facebook.

The YP was not keen. I demonstrated my best zombie walk for him. He remained unconvinced. I pulled several of my very impressive zombie faces. The YP just stared at a pizza that had been delivered to a nearby table. “It doesn’t look very big,” he said. As I dished out a heap of cos lettuce, I offered to show the YP an excellent video on how to turn yourself into a zombie. He looked down at his lettuce leaves glumly.

The large piles of lettuce and the almost adequate pizza. This was the last photo I could take, as in true BlackBerry style, my phone then froze and I had to take the battery out and wait three years for it to reboot.

As it turned out, the pizza was big enough for two (just). I have since worked out that the probable cause of the YP’s antipathy to zombies is that he himself is actually a werewolf. (If you are wondering whether you might also be a werewolf, take this highly scientific werewolf test.) Cunningly, I have suggested that he dresses up as a vampire for Halloween. That, I reckon, should throw the werewolf hunters off the scent.

Happy Halloween everyone!

P.S. There is also a reliable zombie test, for all my fellow walking dead. (I aced it.)


  1. copperfeesh · October 28, 2011

    Perhaps the YP has an aversion to zombies given that most politicians are close facsimiles to the walking dead?

  2. alisonwestwood · October 28, 2011

    Good point. Hadn’t thought of that. But surely he’d then feel at home at a zombie march?

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