The Cheap Bastard Goes to Green House Market, Which Is Not a Place for Cheap Bastards
Ain't no Sonic, but still.
Number of people who were clearly pissed that I discovered their favorite secret mall restaurant: 3
Babies in highchairs throwing fits because "Mom, what the serious fuck is this chia seed pudding bullsh?": 1
Green House Market is a fast, farm-to-table restaurant inside NorthPark Center that features locally sourced options and pressed juices. It started as a food truck, and its bricks-and-mortar location is not in the mall's food court -- no, Green House Market does not fraternize with the Sonic and the Which Wich. Green House Market goes glamping, not camping.
I approach a Sonic Brown Bag special for comment. Why isn't Green House over here, with all the other food court restaurants? Sonic Brown Bag just sniffles and shrugs its shoulders. "Stupid quinoa."
Everyone in Green House Market looks ready to be somewhere else. They're headed to a movie, or a sale at the Tesla store, or to one of the perv benches to stare down 16-year-old girls as they walk out of Urban Outfitters. Eating here is just checking off a necessary pregame gut-fill. An impatient banana sits at a table, waiting on someone to finish up in the restroom. "GAH HURRY UP. I was green when you went in there. If I don't get a good seat to see Transformers, I will shove myself into the least comfortable hole on your body that I can find. Probably ear. Banana direct to ear hole is the worst."
Two grammas wave their arms back and forth as they wait in line, tricking their FitBits into thinking they're walking. "Yesterday, I got 1,000 steps waving my arms around while I was on the shitter." They loudly debate whether to get the watermelon or roasted beet salads, then quietly order the Wagyu burger. Extra cheese.
I have the tarragon chicken salad sandwich on sourdough ($8). It tastes of success and new designer shoes. I enjoy it.
They bring over free water, so drink that up. When I was there, it was "cucumber-infused." For me, that's fine. But if you're afraid of vegetables infusing themselves into your water, if you're a staunch anti-veggie-water-infusion activist ("Like Anne Hathaway + talking, cucumber + water is an abomination!"), then you're going to fork over extra cash for some kind of Stevia-laden beverage or an organic orange juice. Just promise me you won't buy a bottled water for $4 just because it's got pictures of the jungle on it and the bottle's square instead of cylindrical. That shit's dumb.