A Year of Blogging: July 18, 2011

July 18 was Caviar Day. I have never tried caviar. I don't frequent restaurants that have caviar on the menu. I prefer more casual dining places. I like to be able to pronounce what I'm eating. And since my french is rough at best these days, that means I'm pretty much going to places that are considered "American" cuisine. My mom loves to try different restaurants. She likes to go to four star places that she's heard about on The Food Network or read about. Dad does not like these places. The last time we went was for Mom's 50th birthday. We were in Pennsylvania for a family vacation. Mom read about this one restaurant, and really wanted to go. So we made reservations, and all of us got dressed up for dinner. It was a place that guys were required to wear a jacket and tie. That didn't set well with the guys in our family. My father hates wearing ties. He'll wear a jacket without a lot of grumbling, but he despises ties. He has said the only time to wear ties are weddings and funerals. We arrived at the restaurant and were shown to our table by tuxedo-wearing waiters. My father was skeptical. There were so many plates and glasses and silverware, our heads were spinning. We were really trying not to look like a bunch of rednecks who didn't belong there, but I know that is what each of us felt. The women (mom, my sister, and I) were a little more open minded and had an idea of what to expect. The guys ordered Vichyssoise for an appetizer. They had read 'potato soup' and all thought it sounded wonderful. When the appetizers arrived, the guys tried to delicately dig in to their bowls of soup. Then they shot each other this look. Dad and Andy mumbled to each other, saying 'do we tell them?' Mom asked how the soup was, and Dad said 'It's good, but it's cold!' Dad and Andy were embarrassed that such a fancy restaurant would make such an unforgiving error as to serve cold soup. Until we explained to them that it was supposed to be cold. Which was very foreign to them. In our family, soup is a hot dish. Between a couple of courses, we were each presented with a small dish of sorbet. My boyfriend at the time (who is long gone out of my life now) asked why we were getting ice cream before our main dish. Yes, it really was like the Beverly Hillbillies. And I say that lovingly, because we enjoyed each other's company that night, if not so much the meal. Add to our obvious discomfort at this restaurant was the fact that it was either a slow night, or we were there before the rush. Our table was in the center of the restaurant, and the waiters stood on the sides watching us, ready to meet our every need. I'm sure they got a great laugh that night, but I'm equally sure we haven't been the only people to give them such entertainment. The worst came when the main course arrived, and as it often is in very fancy restaurants, the portions were tiny. My Dad is a big guy, with a big appetite. My brother in law has a big appetite too. The guys ate their meal, and on the way home that night we still had to stop at Burger King and get them 'real food' so they would be full. So we don't go to fancy places where they serve caviar. We go to places where the main course is bigger than the size of a tea cup. It's not that we mind spending the money, but we want to be full at the end of the meal. Of course, even if I were comfortable in places that serve caviar, I know I'd never try it. I couldn't get past knowing what caviar actually is.