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@heidihThe black-eyed peas questioners have been from the US and maybe one from Canada. @Kim ShookMost have not questioned hamburger steaks, but enough have to make me wonder about it. Again, US citizens. The woman who asked how much was steak and how much of it was hamburger was from Connecticut.

Just a short, quick one, and not about a complainer. Hamburger steaks are common around here. I didn’t realize that the term might be regional until after I’d been asked a few times what they were. I was still caught by surprise during one lunch, when a woman pointed to our bus driver’s hamburger steak and asked, “How much of that is steak, and how much of that is hamburger?” 🤔😂 The bus driver and I just looked at each other, not sure if she was serious or not. I managed to respond with a straight face, but by the hardest. ETA: Another surprise were the people who’d never heard of black-eyed peas. I know that they’re popular in the south, but was surprised when people asked what they were, after seeing them on a menu. And why are they called black-eyed peas.

I’ll give that some thought!

@Kim ShookI’ll save for later. It will take some time to compose. Too bad I can’t do audio clips as I imitate her speech patterns!

I didn’t know it the first few years, but I did have the power to send someone home if they were disruptive to the program. I did it once. I’m not sure I can tell the story in this forum, because it wasn’t about food. But most of it took place in a restaurant and the theme of that week’s program was Cooking in Cajun Country. Four mornings in a university cooking lab with a different chef instructor each day. Participants made the chef’s recipes and that was their lunch.

Let me add that in fifteen years, that was the only time I blessed anyone’s heart (out loud and to their faces). And one of only maybe three times that I showed what might be considered a negative reaction. It was my job to be gracious.

One of the hardest programs to coordinate was the Cajun Mardi Gras program. Weather, traffic, meals out in rural areas away from the restaurants I usually used. Just too many variables outside of my control. A few weeks before this particular Mardi Gras program, I received an email from a woman who was scheduled to attend. She’d received her pre-program packet and noticed the names of a couple of restaurants we would be utilizing. “One of the reasons we’re coming is for the Cajun food. I’m very upset to see that we’ll be having poboys one night and pizza another. Will we be able to go to another restaurant or order something different? We want real Cajun food.” Paraphrasing my reply: Although poboys originated in New Orleans, which is not a Cajun city, they’ve been around long enough that Cajuns (and south Louisianans in general) consider them authentically part of our food culture. The place we are ordering from is a popular, small poboy shop near the university. We will be picking up trays of poboys on the way to watch a Mardi Gras parade. Unless you have a specific dietary need, this is what you’ll be having that night unless you pay for and bring another meal with you. As for as pizza, of course it’s not Cajun. The place we’re going offers kinds of pizza that you might not find in other places. I’m taking the group there so y’all can appreciate how Cajun tastes influence pizza toppings at a locally owned restaurant that’s been around for 35 years and is an area favorite. You aren’t the first to question this choice, but in the past, doubters have changed their minds. I look forward to meeting you. (🤥) She replied very cordially and thanked me for the explanation. Upon her arrival, she introduced herself (and her husband, who I have no memory of) and let me know that she was the one who emailed me about the restaurants. (Oh, believe me, lady, I know.) So. The first field trip was to a small and very Cajun rural town, about fifty miles away. They take Cajun Mardi Gras seriously, and this was Lundi Gras (the Monday before Fat Tuesday). There is one choice of a restaurant near our field trip destination. We had a limited time to be there, and I ordered ahead, after each person chose one of three offerings. I chose chicken stew, as did Her Royal Highness. (I feel like I should give y’all the same handout I give my groups on the definitions of food terms). As we were being served our lunches, HRH stood up and proudly announced to the group, “We’re foodies.” I think she expected some oohs and ahs or some such, but the group gave her nothing. Once my chicken stew arrived, I realized that the chicken did not get cooked properly. My piece was tough, but the flavor of the stew itself was excellent. When my food was not up to par, I usually kept it to myself and tried to judge the reactions of the group before mentioning anything. I didn’t want to color their opinions. Most people seemed satisfied, but as we were about to leave, HRH approached me, and through gritted teeth hissed, “You said it was chicken stew and that was stewed chicken!” From my mouth, “In Cajun country, that is chicken stew.” In my head: “WTAF?!” (A is for actual.) If she’d complained about the chicken itself, I would’ve understood and agreed. But this? Just ridiculous. That same night was the Mardi Gras parade and we were back in Lafayette. It was the poboy night. It was also the only program night I received some assistance, because I had to distribute food and drink to 35 or so people all before heading outside when the parade arrives. It’s usually a student worker, but that night it was my son’s girlfriend (now wife). HRH pulled Farrah aside several times and asked her if she was sure she wanted to become a part of my family! Anyway, there were fried oyster poboys, fried shrimp poboys, ham, roast beef, etc. They were delicious! Pizza night was also a hit. It followed a field trip where the group was entertained by a three generation family band and got to hear some good Cajun music. Then we headed to the pizza place where I’d ordered samplers that included the Cajun Executioner (shrimp, pepperoni, jalapeños and other goodies), the Jacque Boudreaux (crawfish and shrimp) and the Muffaletta pie (muffuletta ingredients as toppings). HRH said nothing (to me). Let me skip to the chase. On another field trip, near the end of the week, HRH was talking to several women as I got back on the bus, just in time to overhear, “Its been hard, but I’ve been holding back my New York personality all week!” “Oh really? Bless your heart!” I didn’t expect the gasps of understanding from HRH and her audience! HRH: “I know that’s not a compliment!” Me: “I’m pretty sure you and your New York personality can take it.” She actually laughed and agreed. And then we hugged, sang kumbayah, and became besties, promising to email in the future. Haha. Nope. But I could easily identify her anonymous online evaluation, complaining about not getting real Cajun food, even though she had gumbo, etouffee, boudin, etc. And chicken stew. PS - I’m sorry to the New Yorkers, since this is my second story featuring a New Yorker. 🙁

Question for the people who reacted with sad emojis. Are you sad for me or for her? 😉

In one of the first few programs I coordinated, a woman requested salt free, vegetarian meals. Both of those are challenging here, particularly in restaurants that aren’t making dishes by single serving. We even season our vegetables with pork! This one worked out fine, because I left her to her own devices after lunch on the second day. The first thing she did at our opening night meal was reach for the salt shaker, and she wasn’t light handed. The next day at lunch, she left the group early to go to the restaurant and she had a pork chop before the group arrived, and then had her vegetarian meal with us. 😳😡 I guess people don’t realize that restaurants, servers, kitchen staff reveal their secrets to me!

@heidih“Mask of neutrality,” is a term I learned from one of my participants. Occasionally, my mask was in danger of melting from the heat buildup.😜

Ah. Gluten-free. To everyone who truly requires a gluten free diet, let me say that I would’ve been more than happy to accommodate your needs. But this story is about someone who just wanted attention. She’d made requirements clear beforehand, so I made sure the hotel prepared her meal. Dinner started with a salad, and she asked me to identify the ingredients in every dressing choice. This was my first sign. Any previous gluten-free people knew which dressing to order or request, depending on the severity of their issues. The kitchen manager helped her with this one, since I didn’t know the ingredients. Then came her main. “This is my meal? You couldn’t come up with anything more special than that?!” I was ready to point out her ingratitude, but again, someone from the kitchen who was nicer than I, offered an alternative. Thus began the week, where every meal, except breakfast, was a drama meant to call attention to her needs. I called ahead to a diner to ask about what was in some of the menu items, then relayed that info to her. Not good enough. Once we were there she wanted someone from the staff to come out and relay the same info I’d already told her, making her the center of attention. At some point, I stopped worrying or paying attention to it, until lunch on the last full day of the program. She was seated several seats away from me when someone asked her what health issues caused her to go gluten-free. “Oh, none. I just thought I’d try it. This is only my second week and I feel better already!”

I love everything about your comment. 😂

The job no longer exists, locally. The pandemic put group travel on hold. For the first six months, that’s all it was, on hold, but by September, the company severed ties with the university. They cut 2/3 of their global program inventory, deciding they would only hold on to the biggest programs. Ours was a small operation. New Orleans still has a program, with many fewer programs than they once offered. It worked out for me, since I’d planned on retiring at the end of Dec. 2020, regardless. It was a great job, but like all jobs, there was much to stress about. However, on the final night of most every program, we went out to dinner at a Cajun restaurant/dancehall, with live music. The Cajun two-step can adjust my attitude every time.

On the first afternoon/evening of every program at our first meeting as a group, program folders containing itineraries, menus, and other pertinent info are handed out as people enter. Most people peruse the folders and chat amongst themselves while waiting for others to arrive and for me to start things. On this particular day, one woman, after looking over the menus, came up to me very angrily. “I cannot eat this stuff! I need 13 ounces of vegetables at every meal! And look at all this pork! I’m not sure I can even eat any of this. I’m Jewish!” I asked her if she’d specified her dietary needs in the pre-program information. “Well, I just assumed!” I looked over the info she’d provided, and saw that she’d specified gluten free. I let her know that she wouldn’t be having the tasso and chicken pasta dish that was on the menu, but a salad, a chicken breast, and steamed vegetables, so things should be fine for the first evening (we were dining at the hotel the first night). She declared that she wasn’t on a gluten free diet and there BETTER be at least 13 ounces of vegetables. I told her I’d request extra vegetables that night, but I couldn’t promise that she’d get her exact amount of veg at the different restaurants we were going to. She never softened her stance and was in an angry huff all night. What a way to start! I had to be very diplomatic in my response because I didn’t want the group’s first impression of me to be a negative one. I called the hotel restaurant and made sure she’d get the extra vegetables. I tried to let go of my first impression of her. If people have had a rough day of travel, sometimes they’re tired and frustrated that first night, and it doesn’t mean they’ll be problematic all week long. We all survived dinner, and things seemed fine. Later that evening, I received an email from customer service. She’d called and told them I forced her to eat pork and that I told her she’d have to eat it all week. I was furious. She out and out lied. The next morning, as I approached her in the breakfast room, she looked up with a big smile on her face. “Everything’s fine! I called my Overeater’s Anonymous sponsor and she calmed me down. She told me that it wasn’t your responsibility to keep me on track, so I will go to a grocery store and buy extra vegetables and things, and at restaurants, I’ll buy my own extras.” I said, “That’s great, but you called Road Scholar and told them I forced you to eat pork. I made sure you had chicken. That’s not okay.” She rolled her eyes and said, “I’m a New York Jew. This is how we are.” (I’ve had enough Jewish people from New York in my programs to know that this is false.) As the week progressed, the tension between us lessened. I was sympathetic and empathetic about her need to stay on a specific diet as she tried not to be triggered into her old binge eating habits. But how was I to know any of that ahead of time? When you do group travel, you have to understand that there will be times your options are very limited. One evening, as we were seated next to each other, she relayed this story. She’d gotten a job in Craft Services for Saturday Night Live. The problem was that she sometimes binge ate all of the food and then had to order more. She was finally fired when a guest star refused to work because all of the doughnuts were gone, and they realized she’d eaten them! And about the not eating pork because she was Jewish? A couple of servers let me know that she heaped her plate with bacon every morning at the breakfast buffet!!

For over fifteen years I coordinated a program for an educational/lifelong learning/travel company. I worked for a local university which had a contract to be a service provider for the travel company. I didn’t travel; people traveled here, to learn about the culture, the history and traditions of people in Cajun country. Food traditions, language traditions, and music and dance traditions were a part of it. I was not the expert in those fields, but I hired lecturers, planned field trips, and chose restaurants and menus that reflected the local food ways. Not only did I plan, but I also executed the programs, which meant that I met the group on the first evening, and then was with them from breakfast through dinner each day until program’s end. Most programs were five nights. Group size varied. Often groups of forty, very occasionally only 7 or 8. You’d think the tiny groups would be easier, but those presented their own challenges. I was the group leader, question answerer, and the mama, despite the fact that for the first ten years, most participants were much older than I. Oh yeah, the median age of the participants was 72. The participants of these programs are advised to step out of their comfort zones and eat the foods of the area, as part of the learning experience. The service providers were asked to accommodate special dietary needs as required. And therein lies the problem and what this thread is about. I’m not talking about restrictions because of health or religion (until I am), but restrictions based on pickiness or peculiarities of taste. Over the years I’ve collected a few stories, and I’d like to share some of them here. Let me say that for the most part, people in the programs were interesting, smart, well educated and well traveled. They were interested in the program topic and open minded and willing to try new things. They were fun to be around and they appreciated my sense of humor. I learned as much or more from them as they learned from me. I had no idea how much I didn’t know until I took the job, and it was baptism by fire, all the way. On the opposite end of the spectrum, will be the people featured in these anecdotes. Oy vey! Some people. It will take me a little while to get the first story written, but I hope you will find them interesting and funny.

@Kim ShookI would love your corn dip/salad recipe!

@Kim ShookThank you! Mushroom galette. My first attempt at making my own dough. Good thing the dish is meant to be rustic.

A serviceable vehicle for pizza toppings and easy to use. 😁

Tried out this product for the first time. Fresh mozzarella, Rao’s pizza sauce, pepperoni, basil. For size perspective, that’s a salad plate.

Thanks! Bread pudding is not my favorite dessert, but it is a fave of my husband’s. Once I saw the recipe with dark chocolate, it felt like the perfect compromise. It delivered. In addition to that very fine collection of meals, you also have gorgeous peonies? I wish they grew here. So beautiful. @kayb- He’s a pretty nice guy who deserves it! And thank you.

Grilled ham and Swiss on rye, with tortilla chips and spicy guacamole from Fresh Market.

I had the intention of making tacos with these ingredients, but in the end, just went with this. Buttery crab meat, and corn salsa with corn, red onion, jalapeño, cilantro, tomato, lime juice and salt. More bread pudding.

Under ordinary circumstances, we’d have gone out for an anniversary dinner. 45 years, Happy Anniversary to us! Surf and Turf. Dark chocolate bread pudding for dessert. I picked the crabs ahead of time, as a kindness to my husband.

Naan topped with pesto, pine nuts, shredded mozz, rotisserie chicken, and sautéed shiitake mushrooms.

I’m always down for Jiffy. It’s fool proof, and since I am sometimes a fool, I appreciate that!