💾 Archived View for spam.works › mirrors › textfiles › food › dining.out captured on 2023-06-14 at 16:31:31.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
* From THE MONTHLY MAGAZINE OF FOOD & WINE: Article by George Lang *
======================================================================
YOU KNOW YOU'RE IN TROUBLE IF...
When you're dining out and you suspect
something's wrong, you're probably right.
I remember listening to the late Mary Margaret McBride's radio show in
the fifties when a big-game hunter recounted one of his African
exploits: "This huge elephant was fighting with a man-eating tiger.
Suddenly they noticed me and turned against me. I pulled the trigger;
the barrel was empty; the tree was giving way under me; I heard a
poison arrow whizzing by ... and ..."
McBride interrupted sweetly: "By then you must have realized
you were in trouble!"
During my restaurant-going experience, I have often remembered
her words when something made me realize that I was indeed in trouble.
Here is a list of some observations that may amuse you and, perhaps,
help you to avoid a fate worse than yesterday's champagne.
YOU KNOW YOU ARE IN TROUBLE IF:
* You see, proudly posted outside the restaurant, a 1959
review from a defunct newspaper and an award from an organization
you've never heard of. That's a clue to what awaits beyond the door.
Don't go in.
* The menu includes a tricky table d'hote format that lists
only soup and a stew with a fancy name or a casserole names after one
of the less fortunate queens, while all the most tempting appetizers,
main courses, and desserts cost extra. Try your luck elsewhere.
* You find yourself in a room surrounded by red plush
banquettes and reproductions of famous paintings in Bronx-Byzantine
gold frames. According to one contemporary theory, if the restaurant
is elaborately decorated the food will be an afterthought. This may be
an exaggeration, but a phony approach to decor can have a direct
relation to the food served. A mentality that would use scores of fake
Tiffany lamps, gas-jet fireplaces, imitation electric candles, and a
nightmare of jumbled styles is also likely to offer "Filet Mignon a la
Napoleon Topped with Handpicked, Imported Crabmeat, Fois Grass [sic]
with Costly Truffles Glazed with Whipped Hollandaise and Candied
Fruits, Surrounded by Parmesan-Dipped Potato Skins."
*The man who appears to be the manager or maitre d' is sitting
at a table, acting like a guest and clearly letting nothing disturb
his felicities. Beware -- he is as useful as a singing dog who has
lost his voice. A good professional "covers" the room and makes you
feel that while he is there everything will be just fine.
* A female server approaches the table wearing a flimsy top
with a daring decolletage and studiously bends down to take your
cocktail order. My guess is that it would be a mistake to expect more
than an anatomyu lesson from this dining experience. The same holds
for waiters and busboys dressed like road-company Shubert operetta
characters. A slovenly way of dressing usually goes hand in hand with
an unpleasant service manner. An unshaven, gum-chewing waiter, with a
menu folded in his pocket and a pencil behind his ear, will invariably
give you a hard time.
* After much suspense, a menu is ceremoniously presented and
you're faced with a flat monster of a Japanese screen, listing as many
items as the classified section of the Sunday New York Times. With
growing uneasiness, you notice that the simplest dish is crayfish
brains poached in myrtle vinegar, stuffed with puree of cola nuts and
decorated with kiwi fruit. The awful truth should hit you then: to
survive the meal you'll need the ingenuity of a used-car salesman.
* The captain's description of the "Pate' du Mer Alphonse XII"
is "someting like a meat load but with fish in it." You should get the
feeling you are in a pickle. My advice is to stick to simple, basic
dishes. After all, what can they do to broiled sole besides overcook
it, put paprika on it, add too much salt, and serve it cold?
* You're offered a wine list that is so recherche' that the
Cabernet Sauvignon comes from the state of Nevada and the sparkling
wine was produced in the southern Philippines. This is the time to
order a carafe of the house wine, or, if suitable for your selection
of dishes, switch to beer. And when the sommelier offers you the
Chateau Margaux 1955 in such a manner that you can't get out of it
gracefully even though the price approaches that of a famous painting,
you'll know that you are in deep water. If you ever manage to
extricate yourself from this spot, my advice is to order the SECOND
least expensive wine from the list, adjusting to the match-the-color
game (Green Hungarian with spinach souffle'?)
A FEW PEARLS OF RESTAURANT WISDOM:
* Restaurants are popular because they supposedly combine the
maximum of comfort with a minimum of effort on the customer's part.
When this maxim no longer works, it's time to learn cooking.
* The three biggest dining lies: "I don't really care about
the food," "My secretary didn't mention the reservation was for me,
that's why we're seated next to the kitchen," "I usually go to Lutece
for lunch, but ..."
* Friends come and go, but bad waiters stay.
* When you need a waiter, the distance between you and him
will be limited only by the dimensions of the restaurant.
* An optimist is a person who goes to a "landmark" restaurant
expecting good food.
* The perfect meal is the one that you had five years ago in
the same restaurant.
ACCORDING TO LANG'S LAW, BEWARE IF:
* The pepper mill is huge and the wine glasses are tiny.
* A seafood restaurant lists thirty-eight kinds of fish on the
menu and the waiter tells you they have them all and they are all
fresh.
* A restaurant boasts of anything "Wellington" or "Oscar".
* In a steak house the menu lists a bunch of fancy Continental
dishes.
* In a Chinese restaurant the first things they put on the
table are packaged duck sauce, mustard, and soup noodles, or if the
menu lists five different Chinese regional cuisines.
* A tour-group bus is waiting in front of the
seventeent-century Mexican hacienda-turned-restaurant.
Finally, when it's too late to escape the charging elephant, the
man-eating tiger, the poison arrow, or the captain who is handing you
the bill artfully hidden in a sixteenth-century jewel-encrusted codex,
you should prepare yourself. When you open the clasp and look at the
bottom line of the bill, you will positively, unquestionably realize,
in the words of the late First Lady of Radio, that you are truly in
trouble.
======================================================================
Reprinted from The Monthly Magazine of Food & Wine.
(C) 1981 George Lang.