My friend and I were enjoying a quiet dinner at a trendy downtown restaurant when the evening took a disturbing turn. The setting was perfect—warm lighting, soft music, and beautifully plated dishes. She ordered a salad with avocado and quinoa, and at first everything looked normal. But the moment she lifted her fork, she froze and pointed to something unusual on the greens.
At first, we assumed the tiny dark specks were chia seeds or seasoning. Then she leaned closer and said, “They’re moving.” My stomach dropped. We looked again and realized the specks weren’t food at all—they appeared to be clusters of tiny insect eggs. Panic hit instantly, and my friend pushed the plate away, visibly shaken.
We immediately called the waiter over and asked for the manager. The staff apologized and removed the dish, offering a replacement, but we were too rattled to continue eating. Unsure what we had been exposed to, we decided to leave and get medical advice right away. At the hospital, doctors reassured us that accidental contact is usually not dangerous, but they still provided guidance and told us what symptoms to watch for, just in case.
Physically, we were fine—but the emotional impact lasted. The restaurant later blamed a supplier issue and promised to review its handling procedures. Still, the incident changed how we look at food. Even now, whenever I see tiny specks in a salad, I hesitate. That night didn’t just ruin a meal—it damaged our trust in a way that’s hard to forget.
