I didn’t take many photos while eating at Slice, the restaurant at Sapphire Beach, because I was more focused on soaking up to alcohol from the bar, while adding another painkiller and beer on top of that.
I had a burger, which was okay. It was obviously a high fat ground beef, as the burger had shrunken so much that it resembled the patty in Wendy’s infamous ‘Where’s the Beef’ ads of thr 1980s. But who am I to complain. I was drunk.
The burger came with a flimsy, thin, sad little slice of pickle, and all the usual accoutrements. I scarfed it down. Yolo.
But then, this happened — the Apple Pie Pie. That’s not a typo. It’s a Pie Pie. Let me explain.
For some reason, there is very little carribbwan food being served on this island, and a whole lot of not-so-good pizza. It horrible. Really. But the Midwesterners love it.
So, when I told the owner it was my birthday, she happily recommend the dessert version of a savory pizza pie, called an Apple Pie Pie. To fast forward a bit, it was disgusting. Basically, it’s a pizza crust, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, topped with previously dried apples, baked and swirled with icing. In the middle, they the cook plopped cheap non-dairy ice cream (like the stuff you ate with a wooden spoon as a kid), non-fairy whipped cream (oil-based like Cool Whip), and a damn Manishirio Cherry.
Jesus, take the Pie Pie.