When The Chef’s Table announced they were selling desserts every Tuesday and Thursday, it felt like just another way to siphon money from students. But who was I kidding? Sometimes, you have to indulge, right? Curiosity getting the better of me, I caved without much thought. Looking at the menu, I decided to try a banoffee pie. I had never had one before. It wasn’t a desert that usually crossed my mind. So, I ordered.

Now, there’s something frustrating about the way The Chef’s Table operates. After placing an order, you’re required to “check in” 10–15 minutes later via a mobile app notification before they “prepare” your order (which is already made, truth be told). This system is likely designed to manage traffic and keep orders organized. However, many students seem to game the system by showing up early, often getting their order regardless, so I’m starting to believe that the people working at The Chef’s Table just don't care. This lax enforcement has made the whole process seem pointless. 

Having gone to grab my dinner (chicken katsu), I received my notification to check in while I was still in line at The Global Grill, another location in our dining hall. Unlike The Chef’s Table, orders at The Global Grill are ready almost immediately, with no check-in required. 

Having received my order of katsu, I noticed that the line at The Chef’s Table still hadn’t died down (it was still impossibly long), so rather than let my hot food run cold, I decided to let the line cool down a bit before joining.

It’s not like anyone’s going to take my pie. Right?

I mean, I already paid.

Little did I know, this decision would cost me my banoffee pie.

When I finally made my way to the scanner to check in, I noticed the dwindling number of banoffee pies. And, by the time I reached the pick-up counter, the last of the pies had been given away. The gentleman working at The Chef’s Table would be ever so kind to inform me that they’d sold (more like mindlessly given away; I had already been charged for mine) the last of the banoffee pies. 

I was like, I know. Though this was not verbalized, frustration bubbled within me. I cursed (again, internally) the line-orderers who’d snatched up the desserts. Screw you, line-orderers! 

Likely recognizing my frustration, the gentleman asked, “Is there something else you’d like?”

The only option left was a Georgia peach pie, which was not bad—not something I had much recollection of ever having either—but it wasn’t what I ordered.

Resigned to my fate (given they weren’t going to offer me a refund), I decided to give the Georgia peach pie a try. It was topped with two generous scoops of strawberries and a helpful side of whipped cream, which I assumed was sort of an apology, making it a strawberry peach pie. 

Suffice it to say, those strawberries were some of the best I’d had in a long time, so in the end, I guess my misadventure turned into a nummy delight.