Today I loaded the kids and we drove a whole 3.5 miles to the locally-famous Caioti Pizza Cafe in Studio City. This small restaurant located across the street from the restaurant Robert Blake made famous, Vitello’s, is known for it’s labor-inducing salad. I know it sounds crazy, if you search the restaurant’s name or “labor salad” online, the two are found side-by-side throughout the web. The labor-inducing property is supposed to be the dressing.
I’m not at my due date yet, but this is the farthest I’ve gotten in either of my other two pregnancies and I can honestly say that I am beyond miserable. My back and ribs are killing me and I feel like the baby has a foot just below my arm pit. I’m tired…really tired and in constant pain. Already, little baby “C” is bigger than my other boys were when they were born and in my book…he’s ready to come out.
I ordered a half order of “the salad” and a cheese pizza for us to split. The salad was served up with to log books and other literature attesting to its success. I’m not going to lie, the salad was amazingly delicious…and that’s not just the pregnancy appetite talking. The boys played with their toys while I mowed down “the salad” and filled in my own page of the infamous journal. While I was eating it, I noticed an older couple in the corner of the restaurant anxiously watching me, as if I was going to go into labor and push out the baby with the aid of the young, way-too-cool wait staff.
The waiter enthusiastically told me that just yesterday he served a woman her salad and after eating it her water broke at the restaurant before she and her husband had finished their meals. It’s been about three hours and I’ve felt no contractions. My water has not broken. In fact, I don’t feel any different than before lunch–still miserable. Now I’m wondering if I should have ordered a whole salad instead of half a salad. I’m also wondering if it’s just the law of averages when it comes to “the salad.” When you have that many women in the final days and weeks of their pregnancies ordering the same thing, you are bound to have some of them go into labor soon thereafter, right?
Nonetheless, in the days or weeks (oh don’t let it be weeks…) of my final pregnancy, I am glad that I have taken part in an L.A. tradition. And here’s to the labor-inducing salad. Everyone cross your fingers (please!) that it works tonight!