So remember the luncheon I went to last Thursday, where I heard Marie Osmond speak? We all had a menu in the middle of our table setting. Not a menu as in “you have a choice of what you want”; a menu as in “this is what you’re getting.” I stopped reading after I saw this list of appetizers.
Petite Tarte Tatin of Mission FigI don’t know what the hell “tarte tatin” is, but let’s add “fig” to the list of things I would never eat unless they’re forcing it down my throat in a POW work camp. Leek? No. Goat cheese? No way; I don’t like the sound of goat anything. Pomegranate? No idea what it is, but I don’t like the sound of that, either. Yellow tomato? That’s just plain wrong; tomatoes are red. And God know what arugula is, but I have a word for wilted food: garbage.
Crispy Leek with Goat Cheese and Pomegranate
Forest Mushroom, Roasted Yellow Tomato, Wilted Arugula
You can see why the fancy-schmancy restaurants don’t do it for me. I once returned gazpacho because it was cold—my sister Lori will never let me live that down. I’m sorry, but soup should be hot.
Fine dining? You can have it. I look at a hundred dollar meal and think of all the cute little tops I could buy at Ross-Dress-for-Less. Give me a big-ass plate of chocolate crepes at the Pancake House in Green Valley Ranch—that’s what brings me joy! Or how about this awesome meal my brother, brother-in-law and I enjoyed Monday night at my favorite cheapskate casino, Ellis Island?
Meat, potatoes, and vegetable—that’s a meal I can understand! It also came with soup and a delicious microbrew. All for $6.99.
This may sound gross, but let's face it: food is just future shit. Drunken cipollini onions and tomato confit with sauce berre rouge will be flushed away in a matter of hours, but my cute little Ross Dress-for-Less tops will be hanging in my closet for a good long time.