There are few foods in this world that I actively try to avoid. Beans, asparagus, beondegi (if you know, you know) … But I think that the most common food that I actively try to avoid is pasta.
Pasta, an Italian staple, has just never appealed to me. If I were going to eat a noodle dish, why wouldn’t it be something more broth-based like jjamppong or more flavorful like jjajangmyeon? Basically, what I’m trying to say is that my hot take is that Western noodles aren’t worth eating. I’m sorry to all the Italians and New Jersey folks out there (you know who you are).
So, why did I decide to go to Olive Garden’s Never-Ending Pasta?
Like most of this blog, I heard about the Olive Garden Never-Ending Pasta from one of my favorite podcasts, My Brother, My Brother, and Me. In one of the episodes, the eldest brother, Justin McElroy, talked about getting a Never-Ending Pasta Pass from Olive Garden that gave the holder the Never-Ending Pasta deal for a whole year. He eventually got the gold card and did a whole unboxing video that altered my brain chemistry.
Since watching that video, I have done more research into the deal, and because I started listening to them during the pandemic, Olive Garden discontinued the deal due to the coronavirus. Unfortunately, the Pasta Pass has never been brought back (and I would never be able to afford it anyway), but with their Pasta Pass promotion, they gave everyone the chance to gorge on mediocre pasta with their Never-Ending Pasta deal. This was also discontinued during the pandemic.
However, in the past couple years, they brought back their fated promotion. During the Never-Ending Pasta deal, patrons of the Garden can choose from their choice of noodle, sauce, and (for an additional charge) protein of choice.
Now, the idea of drowning myself in pasta truly disgusts me. But for the science of it all, I decided to torture... I mean, treat myself and see how much pasta my body could hold without throwing up.
As a side note: I did structure this review in the style of the Fool’s Journey, so every section is titled after a major arcana associated that shaped my experience.
The Fool
Because I’ve had a (mild) obsession with the Never-Ending Pasta deal from Olive Garden, I am, of course, signed up on all their email and text chains alerting me every few months about the deals that are available at Olive Garden. Or they will just send me a message letting me know about all the pasta I could have at Olive Garden or the Olive Garden-themed merchandise I could wear. My favorite message from them? “Seasons Gratings! Here is our Christmas Merch.”
I swear these things are targeted ads for me and people like me.
Anyways, because of my eagerness, I was able to enjoy the Never-Ending Pasta a whole week earlier than everyone else. A prospect that both excited and frightened me. However, I looked at my schedule and determined that I was able to make it to the Garden on at least one of those days.
I then proceeded to text a few people who I thought would be interested in going with me.
They either said no or ignored my message.
The Empress
Wednesday, August 21, 2024. 6:30 p.m.
It’s a cool, summer day with a slight breeze in the air.
I’m standing outside the local Olive Garden with a book, my phone, and a plan.
As I enter the Olive Garden, a short, elderly Asian grandmother shouts at one of the hostesses to hurry up since there is a customer waiting.
It’s been years since I’ve been in an Olive Garden, and the ambiance makes it as though you’ve entered a different time zone. While the outside world was enjoying the incredibly good summer day (for Maryland standards), I was transported into a dim, dark restaurant that dissolved all sense of time.
The warm lighting of the Garden makes everything melt away and takes you to a discounted version of what Italy probably feels like. With tacky sconces, artificial foliage, and dark wood, it really does try and bring a “homey” feel. If your home was constantly dark and designed in the early 2000s.
The Emperor
As the hostess races over to the stand, she sees me alone standing in the foyer.
“How many people in your party?” she asks.
“One,” I answer.
She stops and stares for a moment but then begins a brisk walk to the dining room waving her hand for me to follow.
“Booth or table okay for you, doll?”
“Anywhere you can place me is fine.”
“Table it is. Alright, I’ll be your server this evening, can I get you anything to start?”
I pull out my phone and show her the pre-prepared ad I had that stated, “Show this to your server to gain access to the Never-Ending Pasta deal.”
She smirks and says, “Yes, we are offering that deal now. What pasta would you like to start with?”
The Hierophant
The Never-Ending Pasta deal has 80 different pasta combinations you can choose from (but I honestly have no idea how the math works since I avoid math like the plague). With four different pasta types, five different sauces, and three meat choices, there were a lot of different plates of pasta to choose from. And with the deal, you weren’t married to just one type of combination; you could choose whatever variation you wanted.
When I go to Olive Garden, my typical order consists of an eggplant parmesan, which hosts oily spaghetti noodles, a wet eggplant, and bland marinara sauce. An ideal meal if you are looking for something to just slide in and out of your body with minimal resistance.
So, when given all the options, I decided to go with something out of the ordinary and explore something I’ve never tried before.
“I’ll have the fettuccine with the creamy mushroom sauce and crispy chicken fritta, please”
“Sure, doll. I’ll get that out in just a moment.”
The Chariot
Before the pasta comes out, the waitress places a gigantic bowl of salad and five breadsticks in front of me. If I hadn’t prepped myself to eat vigorous amounts of pasta, I would have killed both, but I decided to restrain myself and only go for one tiny plate of salad. No breadsticks. Yet.
It took about 10 minutes for my pasta to come out, no doubt a ploy to get me to eat more salad, but I knew better. I bided my time, and when the pasta finally arrived, it looked glorious. The thick, creamy mushroom sauce coated each fettuccine with artistic precision, and the fried chicken bits were perfectly placed on top to create an aesthetic bowl.
… Obviously, I’m lying. It looked as if someone slopped noodles, sauce, and meat onto a plate with child-like glee. A metal spoon was jammed underneath the monstrosity, and because I am a heathen who doesn’t know how to eat pasta properly, I set it aside and dug in with my fork.
It. Was… Bland. The entire time, I was trying to place any kind of flavor profile onto the dish, but I couldn’t think of anything. It was truly like eating a plate of nothing.
The mushrooms, which usually act as flavor bombs after absorbing the sauce, were just pustules of bland ooze that added nothing but a weird chewy texture you get from eating frozen mushrooms. The noodles were clearly overcooked but were a reasonable thickness that didn’t add or subtract anything from the plate. The only saving grace was the chicken. It was dry but flavorful. It seemed like the only properly seasoned element on the plate.
Strength
As I was finishing my first plate of pasta, the waitress came back with a frantic energy.
“Anything else I can get for you, doll?”
With pasta still in my mouth, I quickly pulled out my phone and chewed at a quickened pace.
In my head, the resolve was high. The first plate of pasta was a piece of cake! I inhaled everything in a matter of minutes. I even had a fourth of a breadstick to sop up the flavorless sauce.
As I finished chewing and swallowing the remaining bit of food, I let her know that my next meal would be the same meat option with the spaghetti with the traditional marinara. I was ready to get back to my roots and try something like the beloved eggplant parm I was familiar with.
Hermit
“Here you go, doll.”
And thus, the second plate of pasta was placed in front of me. Now, something to note that I was made aware of is that every subsequent plate of pasta is significantly smaller than the first bowl. Looking back on it now, I was thankful that this was the case because, by the middle of the second plate, I was starting to question all my life decisions.
It was at the second plate when I realized that most of the people who came into the restaurant either at the same time or moments later than myself were leaving. Couples, friends, families… In the time that it took me to eat one and a half bowls of pasta, they had already finished their meals and were preparing to head home.
With each twirl of the fork, I felt as though I was sealing my fate even more. Each shovel of the terrible pasta and decent meat was terrorizing every sense as I could feel myself slipping away with every bite.
The pasta itself was very similar to the first dish. Slightly more acidic due to the tomatoes, but overall, it had the same bland flavor with no redeeming qualities. It occurred to me that this was the closest I was going to get to getting a chicken parmesan, but I feel as though that would be an insult to all chicken parms if I gave it the same title.
Wheel of Fortune
The waitress came back with a clear look of concern.
“Anything else for you, doll?”
I nod as I open my phone. I barely glance at it before saying, “Rigatoni with alfredo and the same chicken, please.”
She pursed her lips and made her way back into the kitchen.
I could feel my body rejecting even the air that I was breathing. But I was determined. No matter what was going to happen, I knew one thing for certain.
There would be another plate of pasta placed in front of me soon.
Justice
“Do you want any cheese on that?”
One of the things that I love (and hate) about Olive Garden is that they aren’t shy about adding copious amounts of cheese to everything. I didn’t mention it before, but whenever I was given the option, I did say yes to the addition of more cheese.
But for whatever reason, I said no to this last pasta dish.
Maybe I had gotten a little wiser. Maybe I realized that Alfredo was already going to have an insane amount of cheese in it. Or maybe it was the idea of having to put even one more molecule of food in my body that was causing me to gag.
As the waitress left to cater to other tables, I sat there staring at the plate of pasta. Gripping my fork so hard that it left a slight impression on my skin.
I eventually stabbed the next forkful of pasta and fought the urge to puke.
Hanged Man
Each bite seemed like another step on my personal Everest. And the worst part? This was probably the best-tasting pasta out of all the ones that I tried.
The creamy texture of the alfredo paired so well with the rigatoni noodles. The sauce only accented the chicken flavors, and it was a beautiful medley of flavors on my senses. I feel as though if I wasn’t on my third plate and actively suppressing my need to eject my stomach, I would have enjoyed my final plate of pasta.
Or maybe, I was experiencing Stockholm syndrome with Olive Garden. I couldn’t tell.
Halfway through the plate, I realized that there was absolutely no way I was going to finish eating. For the sake of my own sanity (and to avoid causing the waitstaff any unnecessary grief), I decided that there was absolutely no way I could finish eating all that pasta.
I picked out all the chicken, smothered it in the alfredo, and left half the bowl full.
Death
Staring into the noodles of the rigatoni was like looking into my own dead eyes. Empty and void of life and purpose.
The noodles were fated to end up in the bottom of a trash can. Far, far away from me. But I couldn’t wait to add that distance to me and that pasta.
In one dramatic motion, I pushed the pasta away from me across the table. Far, far away.
I buried my head in my hands and focused on breathing properly.
Devil
“Can I get you anything else, doll?”
With a mischievous grin on my face, I slowly take my head out of my hands and pull out my phone one last time.
You see, as someone who has signed up for Olive Garden emails, I had to (unfortunately) give them my birthday information. And with that private detail, I asked, “I have this coupon for a free dessert with the purchase of an adult entrée. Does this deal count toward the free dessert?”
With a dead look on her face, mimicking the one I had only moments earlier she said, “Yeah, that’s no problem. Which one would you like?”
And that’s when she brought out the dessert menu and recommended, I try the tiramisu.
Tower
One of my favorite stories from the Bible is the one that depicts the Tower of Babel. It’s a story that shows God striking down those who think that they are either better than God or those who want to be their own God.
And as I picked up every morsel of that damn dessert, I found myself breaking down and reflecting on the meal that I was still having.
Why did I feel compelled to keep gorging on more and more food? Was it the consumeristic society we live in? Morbid curiosity? Some other obscure third thing that I can’t be bothered to think about?
Judgment
With the dessert finished, the bill paid, and the kind waitress tipped, I slipped out of my seat, gathered up the Olive Garden after-dinner chocolates, and walked back to my car.
As I passed by the silent observers and patrons of the pseudo-Italian restaurant, I felt a sense of relief that I’d never felt before. It was as if I was shedding the part of my youth that always wanted to go to the Never-Ending Pasta. The part of myself that knew this would be a stupid side-quest that yielded no rewards.
But there was another side of me asking what was going to be next on this miserable food journey I decided I must take.
World
As I left the Olive Garden, I cemented two things that I’m sure will be constants in my life.
First, if I didn’t like pasta before this experience, I now hated pasta. If I could live without seeing a Western-style pasta dish, I would live a more fulfilling and grateful life.
Second, I can no longer test my limits like this at the start of my late 20s. There are just some things that don’t need to be evaluated, and the amount of food I can eat in one sitting will just cause unnecessary repercussions.
And as I got home pushing down the feeling of throwing up, I sat in my chair just a bit wiser than I was before.
…
Did you know that IHOP is running All You Can Eat Pancakes right now?
Bonus Photo:
Comments