Tag Restaurant

The things people do

Michael 11 Comments

People watching should be an official event. I’m not sure if it should be a sport or a game or an unstructured pastime, but it needs to be something. I was convinced of this when we went out to lunch yesterday. The entire restaurant was in people watching mode, and personally, I can’t think of a better way to pass the time.

Nobody doesn’t mind their own business but somehow, it works. From the moment we walked in the restaurant we heard it (and we knew we were among our people). Murmurs of, “Such cute sandals!” “Look at that skirt, the one with the print!” “I want those earrings!” (Nobody said anything about my tie. Bummer.) After we were seated, we were able to join in. “Look, is that the crab cake or the crab cake salad?” “I don’t know but I’m definitely getting that for dessert…The one over there.” “I don’t see that on the menu, be sure to ask if it’s one of today’s specials.”

The best part of people watching in a restaurant is that people are constantly coming and going, so there are always new things to ooh and aah over. And unlike just a few years ago, it’s all open and above board. Nobody is sneaking around anymore trying to catch a glimpse of how the filet is served. If you can’t tell, you just lean over and ask your table neighbors.

Yes, the restaurant is THE place to people watch.

I’m a people watcher from way back. Back in the day we had to hide our watching or at least be minimally circumspect of who we were watching. Bars were always a good place because you can blame the 1,000 mile stare when you can’t believe someone would come out in public like that by blaming it on being over-served. Pools were reasonable people spotting spots mostly because anybody who went to one was planning on being watched anyway. Of course, they were also sort of the classic double-edged sword. People didn’t mind being watched, but they never did anything worth watching. Yes, for sheer volume of sights, bars were the place to be. Not late night. After work happy hour was the best time.

That was then though. This is now, and now the place is a restaurant, a little crowded, preferably mostly filled with people who don’t get out much. (You know. My people.) And for maximum participation, wear the dangling earrings and order the special.

McReally

Michael 2 Comments

I really like sandwiches. I’ve done that bit before so I’ll not bore you twice with it. Maybe even three times. Anyway, I like sandwiches. Today I came close to a sandwich trifecta. I made an egg and sausage on English muffin for breakfast, for lunch I had grilled chicken with provolone and zucchini on a hoagie roll, and I came close to grilling a hamburger for dinner. Fortunately I came to my senses and grilled a pork chop instead and actually got to use a knife and fork for one meal.

But that hamburger got me thinking about the sandwich world. Every restaurant has sandwiches. Maybe not the Top of the Marque type places but I can’t afford them so they don’t count. Yes I said that. If you want them to count, put them in your blog. Anyway…every restaurant has sandwiches but it took one that nobody wants to admit patronizing to have made it an institution. New York delis notwithstanding. Of course that is McDonald’s. And I’m not getting any consideration from them for this.

The hamburger thought that popped into my head when that hamburger got me thinking was the Quarter Pounder. You know McDonald’s recently upgraded the Quarter Pounder. No? You didn’t? That’s right. Nobody actually goes to McDonald’s so of course you didn’t. That’s ok. I did. They recently upgraded the Quarter Pounder and a couple of weeks ago I had one. I’m not going to sit in my kitchen and ponder if I would rather fire up the grill and burger it on my own or make the trip down the road to cop dinner. But if I’m on the road and hungry, and an arch topped sign beckons, I could do another one of those.

McRibAh but there’s more to the story. The hamburger thought that popped into my head when that hamburger got me thinking wasn’t just about hamburgers. Because one of the hamburgers that thought popped was the venerable Quarter Pounder, that particular hamburger got me to think about a non-hamburger sandwich from that chain, the McRib. Or you prefer: the McRoo (inaccurate though since it contains no kangaroo meat although rumors do persist) or the McTripe (actually quite accurate since tripe is one of its 70+ ingredients) (sorry) or even the McOhNoI’dNever which is probably also inaccurate because they sell between 30 and 50 million whenever they are released and I only get one) (really).

It’s true. I am a McRibber. I don’t know why but every fall I start looking for the signs that the everything but the kitchen sink sandwich is coming back because I have to have my McPig Fix. Fortunately, unlike certain potatoes chops, I can stop at one. Fortunately because even I will admit they are weird and they also have over 400 calories and you don’t keep a boyish figure like mine (yeah, right) by chowing down on a bagful of those things.

Yes, I really like sandwiches. Even the marginal ones.

Salad Days

Michael 2 Comments

A couple of days ago I met a friend for lunch. This is a change for me as I usually meet friends for breakfast which itself was a change for me as I used to meet friends for happy hour. The things we must adjust to as we get older. Sigh.

Anyway changing from breakfast to lunch meant I had to read and consider the menu. Breakfast is easy. I check out what’s at the top of the list and say I’ll have the *full in the blank* with the eggs over easy and wheat toast. The top item is always the same, two (sometimes 3) eggs any style with three (sometimes 2) pieces of bacon and sauaage, home fries, and toast. It’s just about what I have every morning whether out or at home except that on Saturdays at home I add pancakes or waffles depending on my mood unless I completely switch things up and go with French Toast, or decide to give my heart a break (it’s one of the few organs still in its original condition) and have oatmeal.

So, that top item on the breakfast menu. It’s always the same but I have to take a quick glance at the menu to see what that particular restaurant/diner calls it so I can *fill in the blank* for the server. Even the most greasy-spoon-ish diner will have some cute name for it. Grandpa Bob’s Favorite or Harvey’s Hungry Meal or The Lumberjack Special. Bob and Harvey make sense because we’re usually eating at Bob’s Breakfasts or Harvey’s Hungry House. But a bunch of places have a lumberjack meal or two and I don’t know that this spot on Earth is known for commercial forresting. It’s their places and their menus so I guess they can call ther meals whatever they like.

But I digress. Again. On this particular day I wasn’t eating breakfast out and had to get accustomed to a whole new set of menu selections. Did you ever notice that restaurants/diners don’t give lunch offerings cute names? A grilled chicken wrap is a grilled chicken wrap. I guess by lunch most of the diners have fumbled their way through a half day of work, school, or shopping and just want to eat.

I checked out the offerings and made my choice. I might have mumbled sort of out loud that I was going on the light side and order a salad. That’s when my lunch companion just had to remind me that salad does not always equal light and healthy. Especially at this spot on Earth. Around here our best selling salad whether at restaurants, diners, or at the bar during those once happier happy hours is the steak salad.

Now at those places on Earth that might recognize that you can make a salad out of a steak might just add some grilled steak strips onto a bowl of lettuce and it’s usual accompaniments. Not here. Here we take a whole steak, perhaps even a strip steak, and drop it on top of a hearty salad that by itself could serve 3 or 4, then add cheese, hardboiled eggs (at least two), and french fries. And the only dressing allowed is ranch. And never on the side. Yep. Not exactly light.

So, I decided against the steak salad and tried to stick with something “on the light side.” And I found it, right there in the salad section. A taco salad. It didn’t even come with dressing.

How much lighter can you get?

That’s what I  think. Really. How ’bout you?

Serving Is a Verb

Michael Leave a comment

We’ve managed to be at restaurants three times over the past 8 days. That’s quite unusual for us even in the best of times. Given that lately we’ve been held to a restaurant visit once every couple of weeks, it’s absolutely extraordinary.

We start on Easter with the She and the He families hitting separate emporia for a holiday buffet. Oddly enough, even though we were eating out, He had to still bake a ham and boil some eggs to have leftovers throughout the week. We may have to revisit that someday. We ended the week at a Sunday brunch at a well-known television chef’s restaurant. A bit of a modified buffet with an antipasti bar up front and a dessert bar to finish with served entrees in between.

Now what can you say about serving at a buffet? Keep the patrons’ glasses full of their preferred beverages, keep the tables clear of empty plates, and generally make certain they guests feel welcome. Admittedly there are some servers for whom even buffets are too much of a challenge, just as there are some restaurants that have difficulty meeting the buffet challenge. But these were upscale establishments with professional servers and their mission was to make you want to go back for a full service meal and go back soon. Mission accomplished.

But then we had the meal in between. It was at one of our favorites that had been much neglected by us. Neglect isn’t the right word. Due to uncontrollable circumstances it had been much un-patronized by us. That’s better. During our absence they changed the menu just a tad, changed the drink sizes a wee bit, even changed the portion sized of the side dishes a touch. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to make you go hmm when the courses came out. We are certain had we had one of our regular servers we would have been forewarned of the changes. As it was, we were waited on by one we had never met and were as new to her as she to us.

It started quite positively. We stood at the hostess stand where the host greeted us and immediately sat us at a table for two. And a good thing it was that we weren’t two minutes later because the next party of two ended up with a 45 minute wait for a table. But we didn’t and we immediately sat and were almost immediately greeted by the new waitress. She welcomed us, didn’t say a word about the day’s special that were scrawled on a chalk board on the other side of the waitress stand, but did take our drink orders and told us she would be right back. And right back she was our complimentary basket of chips and salsa. After ascertaining we weren’t yet ready to order she said she would be right back with our drinks and indeed was right back with half of our drinks and a promise to be right back again for our order.

What seemed like just about when the couple behind us finally got their table did our waitress return for our order. Either she realized it had been about 20 minutes since she said she would be right back again or it was He’s inquiry of the host as he walking by if our server had left a forwarding address before she left on her vacation that prompted her return. But back she was and she took our order and even managed not to have the appetizers and the entrees come out together. A big plus in our world.

The plusses continued until we got to the end of the meal. Even with the newer portion sizes there was, is, and probably will always be too much for one seating and she offered take-out containers for our leftovers. Two boxes came out, one for each of our leftover entrees but nothing for the appetizer that was still on the table and still had a ways to go before one could consider it gone. Regardless of how many containers came out, that would usually signal the end of the evening for most restaurant patrons, leaving nothing left to do but pay the check and make one’s way through the parking lot and then home. All of that self-paced except for the paying of the check, requiring a check to pay, that the waitress claimed she would be right back with. Eventually it made its way to the table, cash was plopped in the little leather book and then there it sat. And sat. It may still be there for after a while we moved on to the self-paced portion of going home and went home.

Will we return? Of course we will. We’re getting used to the fact that there are fewer restaurants with professional servers. We would prefer that of those who rely on whomever they can get to be the face of their establishments stress upon those faces that serving is a verb. It’s not just carrying a plate from kitchen to table. If you’re looking for that kind of job there are plenty of them in one’s own home.  If you should find yourself in that position, smile, go out of your way, make yourself memorable in a good way, and remember, “I’ll be right back” has its limits.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?