Last night on my way home from work I stopped at La Bruschetta to pick up some of their excellent vegetable soup for my sick girlfriend fiancée. We’ve eaten at La Bruschetta a few dozen times over the years. It’s on Westwood Blvd, just on the other side of Santa Monica from my house. When I attempted to pay, the waiter — who is the owner’s son — wouldn’t let me. He said he could tell that Tricia was sick when she called to order and it was on the house. How great is that?
Unfortunately the chef accidentally gave me a bowl of some other soup. I didn’t realize it until I got home and she told me it was the wrong one. We called them and they apologized profusely. I jumped in the truck and returned to grab the correct soup. Since I was already there, I asked if they could make me some penne arrabiata, too. I forgot that the arrabiata is no longer on the menu there. Not only did he have the chef make me an order and add some breadsticks, but he also refused to let me pay and insisted that I take home two great bottles of wine. Now that is how you earn a good reputation.
