My mother has the most amusing experiences at restaurants. She once ordered the soup and salad combo and had a potato chowder and a sesame salad. The soup was good, but when she looked at the salad, there were no sesame seeds in sight and it was sprinkled with bleu cheese, which she hates. She had it replaced with a tossed greens salad after a fiasco with the waitress.

My dad was a 'hospitality consultant' and an executive chef, even having his own restaurant for a time. He specialized in restaurants a lot, and while he could handle any aspect of business science, it was the food which he was most fanatical about. As such, it is only natural that some culinary and service practices be handed this way, so I learned what to expect and how to handle it at restaurants. My mom, however, lacks these skills.

We were driving down the old town and decided that we were hungry and would go to a restaurant to eat. She liked to try new things out, so we went with a restaurant that we had not gone to yet. Right after we entered the establishment, however, I got the feeling that this was a greasy spoon. My mom, however, did not pick up on this and was led to the booth. Once the menus were placed on the table, the waitress directed our attention to the sign that usually reads 'welcome!' in bold blue test, but instead read something along the lines of "Due to the increased cost of living, we are charging an additional $.25 per item. Thank you for your understanding." In my mind, I read it more like "Yo we're stealing more money from ya cuz life sucks hahaha." She ordered a 'gourmet chicken breast, juicy and tasty, cooked on a skillet, with a side of tossed vegetables.' I think I had a egg melt sandwich. While my sandwich was satisfactory and had an ample side of mashed potatoes, that could not be said if my mother's dry piece of leather and fried broccoli.

The story was told many times before and after the incident, where I would order a wonderful, filling dish and never have a problem, while my mother would get the minuscule and tasteless platter of goop and gravy. Half the time her meal was the more expensive of the two, too. Last night, as I giggled about her order of fried veal, I explained to her my method of never being hungry after eating at a restaurant.

The way is simple. Providing I am not at an exquisite and extravagant place where a leftovers box is considered a vulgar concept and saying 'teabag' will get you kicked out, I will search out a meal with the most food, usually a large plate of pasta or a platter of meat, and usually have a soup or salad to boot. Additionally, if I do not think the meal is large enough yet, I will simply add another side order, like mashed potatoes. As a result, I have a superfluous meal with extra to take home for lunch the next day. I'm always full, I have diversity and I usually have a delicious entree, since I'm quite picky about what is in the food and make sure I know what I'm ordering. If, however, the place is indeed a pompous palatial paradise of pabulum, I simply order the most intriguing meal, providing I know it not to be a cream cheese cracker sandwich with uncooked spaghetti laid diagonally on it, chocolate sauce decorating the edges of the plate. Besides, chances are my mom will order that, too. I will usually go for something like lamb or pot roast or pasta, with the occasional bird, because I know what to expect, and every restaurant had a different recepie, so it's always new.

Not all of our culinary adventures were fit for a chapter in a Don Quixote de la Mancha remake, however. One of the best meals I've ever had was in The Melting Pot up in Portland (yup, Nukaya =P). The Melting Pot is a fondue restaurant with an interesting ambiance of depressing surroundings with the vibrant life of people, and a seemingly endless table of food. It was money and time well spent, especially since I was able to down a bowl of strawberries and cookie pieces dipped melted chocolate. Yum. That was certainly a highlight for my mother, too, since, for once, she was not on the lower end of the deal. "Finally," I say-- with good reason.

~EW~