Yesterday me and my buddy decided to have a lady date so, curiously, we drove 20 minutes outside Chicago (home of the James Beard awards with some of the best food on the planet) so we could go to Outback Steakhouse.
To be fair, I'd never been, so I understand why she'd want me to have the experience. But every single person who messaged me after seeing it on instagram (@mariapalmerradio please and thanks for the follow) asked if I got the Bloomin' Onion. I WILL NEVER GET THE BLOOMIN' ONION.
"Oh because it's 1,700 calories and that's objectively ludicrous?" No, I have no standards for what I put in my body. Ask my husband.
The problem is it's an ENTIRE ONION! And as big a fan as I am of the novel-turned-movie Holes, I'm not one for munching on, again, an ENTIRE ONION. I've never thought to myself, "starting to get a bit peckish. You know what I'm in the mood for? A BATTERED, FRIED, WHOLE ONION."