Todd and I met my brother, Steven and his wife, Meg, for dinner last night while they were in town. We drove around for quite a while looking for a restaurant we all agreed on.
Three of us wanted to go to Nearly Normals, but Todd was stubborn for a couple of reasons. First, ever since we were first married, he got it mixed up with a lingerie shop, and while it does sound like a great name for a sleazy establishment of that sort, he needs to be reminded that while you can technically wear a veggie burrito, it's not usually considered sexy. Second, when he is reminded that it is a vegetarian restaurant, he's certain he won't find anything he would want to eat. Also, I think he fears going to a vegetarian restaurant will make him either gay or liberal.
So after about 45 minutes of driving around aimlessly, we finally agreed on a Latin American restaurant. We're all very narrow-mindedly thinking standard Mexican food, and are surprised at the upscale, gourmet atmosphere. But we're hungry and not up for any more restaurant hunting.
After being seated (and feeling a tad under-dressed), we take a look at the menu. Steve, Meg and I are intrigued by the not-so-run-of-the-mill fare. Todd is just trying to find something he considers edible. The three of us enjoy our appetizers: Oxtail croquettas for Meg, Bacon, apple and hazelnut guacamole for me, and the Sopa Especial for Steven. ("What's the 'Sopa Especial'?" "It's the Soup Special." "Ummmm, that sounds good. I'll have that.") Finding nothing he considered edible on the appetizer menu, Todd stole a few of my chips, lamented that the bacon was mixed into my guacamole, and waited with stomach growling.
As a main course, I opted for the Ensalada Hacienda, a safe choice, I thought, with no weird meat. Meg ordered the Black Bean and Wild Mushroom Enchiladas, and Steven ordered Duck Verde Tacos. Todd ordered the Beef Tenderloin Pinchos, described as "Grilled beef tenderloin skewers, roasted red pepper gastrique, chimichurri, sautéed greens" Now, I think the waiter could've made a suggestion at this point that would've been helpful. Drawing on obvious clues, I think he could've seen that the large man in the party with the stomach growling, who didn't order an appetizer, might be hungry for a real man-sized meal. Perhaps he should've suggested an alternative, even at the risk of being rude and presumptuous. Nothing in that description prepared us for the bite-sized portion he received, which was something like this:
So the rest of the night we were laughing about the incongruity of a big, hungry, steak and potatoes kind of man hunched over a delicate plate of miniature portions. If the waiter asked about dessert, he was prepared to answer sarcastically, "I'm stuffed. I just couldn't eat another bite (I've already had two!)"
That was a memorable dining experience, and I can't help laughing every time I picture it in my mind!
On the comment card under "Would you recommend us to others?" he wrote, "Yes, to midgets."
He stopped by Arby's on the way home.
1 comment:
Haha, poor Todd! I guess he'll be picking the place to go from now on?
Post a Comment