Ardge
Senior Cook
Do any of you have a friend who is IMPOSSIBLE to please when it comes to dining out? I have a few, but one in particular who would find something wrong with anything. It matters not. They could be in a prime Chicago steakhouse and be served a perfectly cooked NY Strip with an a la minute Whisky Bordaliase.
"Ahhh... It's OK I guess. It's a little too fatty for me."
"It's a little too thick."
"It's a little too red inside."
"It's a little too cold."
"It's a little too hot."
"The spices are a little weird I think."
Here's a little info on me. I don't get to eat out at nice restaurants much. I'm usually working in one or too broke to even pay for the tip if I am able to go. The thing is, I appreciate good food. I always have. I try not to complain for little things and I understand that the type of place dictates the level of quality I am receiving for the amount paid. I am not gonna eat garbage, but I am willing to overlook lots of things and do it with a smile. If I don't have to cook it or clean up afterwards, chances are I will be chewing with a smile on my face. I celebrate every meal placed in front of me and I thank God for the experience. That's first and foremost.
However, sometimes plates don't turn out as good as they should, and I am talking about minimum requirements. Have you ever been the recipient of said plates, and if so, what did you do about it?
I recently had dinner at this Italian place my Father LOVES. Why he loves it is beyond me. It is near a community college and there are ALWAYS roudy "young adults" in there every time I've been in there. The tables are always off balance and there isn't a chef coat in the kitchen. Just a bunch of aprons and baseball hats worn backwards. (This may be trival to some, but it speaks volumes to me.)
Anyway, after scanning the menu for something other than the run of the mill pizza or baked beef sandwich, I settled on Fettucini Alfredo.
What arrived to our table was something a little different than I expected.
I was given Spaghetti with some 1/2 and 1/2, a sprinkling of grated cheese and a discolored looking pinch of parsley all centered on top. You could even see the indentations from someone's fingers in the parsley.
I sat there for a minute looking at my plate and pondered my next move. As my family was starting to eat their food, I tried not to make a big deal of it, but I couldn't stand it anymore. I walked my plate to the kitchen pickup window and asked to talk to who made it. The three cooks stared at me, but no one answered me. The waitress came up to me and aked me what the matter was. I asked her if she would eat this. The 1/2 and 1/2 looked more like skim milk at this point than anything.
She looked at it, made that "ick" face , and then told me this. "Ya know what, I'll put a refire order in for you."
"Thank you," I said. I walked back to my table and sat there with my family.
When the plate arrived a second time, the portion was twice as huge and the pasta was indeed Fetuccini, but the sauce was so thick you could have used it as plaster. I was so turned off by it, I could only handle one forkful of it. It was horrible tasting too. No seasoning whatsoever. I didn't complain a second time. I just had a few pieces of pizza and finished up the breaded mushrooms my family got as an appetizer.
I sat there dreaming of that small Italian place I long to open someday. I can smell the heavy cream reducing right now actually.
Hmmm....
Can anyone relate?
RJ
"Ahhh... It's OK I guess. It's a little too fatty for me."
"It's a little too thick."
"It's a little too red inside."
"It's a little too cold."
"It's a little too hot."
"The spices are a little weird I think."
Here's a little info on me. I don't get to eat out at nice restaurants much. I'm usually working in one or too broke to even pay for the tip if I am able to go. The thing is, I appreciate good food. I always have. I try not to complain for little things and I understand that the type of place dictates the level of quality I am receiving for the amount paid. I am not gonna eat garbage, but I am willing to overlook lots of things and do it with a smile. If I don't have to cook it or clean up afterwards, chances are I will be chewing with a smile on my face. I celebrate every meal placed in front of me and I thank God for the experience. That's first and foremost.
However, sometimes plates don't turn out as good as they should, and I am talking about minimum requirements. Have you ever been the recipient of said plates, and if so, what did you do about it?
I recently had dinner at this Italian place my Father LOVES. Why he loves it is beyond me. It is near a community college and there are ALWAYS roudy "young adults" in there every time I've been in there. The tables are always off balance and there isn't a chef coat in the kitchen. Just a bunch of aprons and baseball hats worn backwards. (This may be trival to some, but it speaks volumes to me.)
Anyway, after scanning the menu for something other than the run of the mill pizza or baked beef sandwich, I settled on Fettucini Alfredo.
What arrived to our table was something a little different than I expected.
I was given Spaghetti with some 1/2 and 1/2, a sprinkling of grated cheese and a discolored looking pinch of parsley all centered on top. You could even see the indentations from someone's fingers in the parsley.
I sat there for a minute looking at my plate and pondered my next move. As my family was starting to eat their food, I tried not to make a big deal of it, but I couldn't stand it anymore. I walked my plate to the kitchen pickup window and asked to talk to who made it. The three cooks stared at me, but no one answered me. The waitress came up to me and aked me what the matter was. I asked her if she would eat this. The 1/2 and 1/2 looked more like skim milk at this point than anything.
She looked at it, made that "ick" face , and then told me this. "Ya know what, I'll put a refire order in for you."
"Thank you," I said. I walked back to my table and sat there with my family.
When the plate arrived a second time, the portion was twice as huge and the pasta was indeed Fetuccini, but the sauce was so thick you could have used it as plaster. I was so turned off by it, I could only handle one forkful of it. It was horrible tasting too. No seasoning whatsoever. I didn't complain a second time. I just had a few pieces of pizza and finished up the breaded mushrooms my family got as an appetizer.
I sat there dreaming of that small Italian place I long to open someday. I can smell the heavy cream reducing right now actually.
Hmmm....
Can anyone relate?
RJ