It's called The Cheesecake Factory for a reason...

And it's not called The Food Factory for a reason as well...

Last night, I took Gladys, the woman at the CWJC that I mentor, to The Cheesecake Factory in Green Hills to celebrate her belated birthday. I've had the signature dish from the CF before, that is, their cheesecake, however, I had never eaten at one of their restaurants. We didn't wait long for a table and they put us in a booth where we could admire the beautiful decor of the restaurant. I immediately noticed that the CF severly misuses their available restaurant space. The ceiling of the restaurant is very tall and it's possible to build a glass-railed loft area for additional seating in the already overcrowded restaurant. It would be nice of CF to utilize that space, so maybe we all wouldn't have to wait three hours to eat.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is the food. The CF menu is a book. Literally. In this book, you find a splattering of meat, pasta, salads, sandwiches, pizzas, appetizers and desserts, all boasting various flavors of international cuisine. For instance, you could order egg rolls as an appetizer, a hawaiian salad, spaghetti for your main course and finish it off with a NY cheesecake. Don't get me wrong---I like variety. But when you have too many irons in the fire, it's hard to give each the individual attention they deserve.

I ordered a Chicken Pesto Pizza in big hopes that the ingredients would be fresh and tasty, the portion large enough to make a second meal, and I would leave the restaurant with a positive experience with the CF menu. What I got was a pizza where the ingredients were processed and gross, the portion diminutive, and a disappointing experience with CF. My pizza had green alfredo-like sauce on it. I guess that's what CF call's Pesto. That's what Queen MAB calls vom.

I realize now the significance of the CF name. They don't make any claims about their menu. Just their cheesecake. And rightfully so, because the piece of Tiramisu cheesecake I consumed was divine.

On my way out of the mall, I floated down the escalator to the new location of Sephora Nashville. The windows on the store front were all taped up with brown grocery paper, but through some hastily constructed cracks and crevices, I was able to peer through to see the promised land. The countdown is on---less than 48 hours! I'm already making my list and checking it twice...