Fakin' It

[s'kat]

Last night, I once again found myself in the unfortunate position of having to fake it. The smiles, the low gasp, the closed eyes... while I've never had to fake an orgasm, I sometimes find myself in the position of having to fake enjoying a meal.

It was a warm and sticky night, and my husband was craving Italian. There is no good Italian in this little town, but one restaurant makes a decent attempt, and a killer salad, to boot.

I ordered the salmon and scallops with red peppers, spinach, and mushroom; he got the spaghetti and clams in marinara. When our meals arrived, he dug into his with relish, exclaiming over the perfect hint of spice, the freshness of the clams. I was less than enamoured of my own meal. After having scallops fresh from the ocean just last week, these tired little specimens didn't quite live up to my expectations. There were 4 ragged pieces of baby spinach strewn across the plate, and two slice of wilted red pepper. The salmon was somewhat dry; the mushrooms were from a can. And everything came perched on top of a ridiculously large mountain of pasta, which was not hinted at upon the menu, nor mentioned by the server.

My husband could tell I was seriously not enjoying the scallops, so I faked enjoying the rest of it, just so that we could have an enjoyable evening, without him worrying that I was getting stiffed on my meal.

But still. IT SUCKED. When did I get so damned picky?

Do you ever find yourself in this deplorable situation?

[KateW]

If I really don't enjoy a meal at a restaurant, I let someone know. I'm not usually picky unless there is really something wrong with it. One of the few times I sent something back was at an Italian chain restaurant (no, not Olive Garden =)) where I got something like chicken and broccoli with pasta and a cream sauce. The "sauce" was like someone had poured warm milk over the whole thing. It was so nasty. So I sent it back.

Anyone I'm out to eat with would do the same thing, so I don't feel bad sending it back.

[bleudauvergne]

My husband was my fiance at the time.

I was staying in his little studio bachelor pad, which was not equipped with more than a toaster oven and one burner. We had recently become engaged, and he decided to invite one of his best friends, who was in the foreign service, and his fiance over to have dinner with us. I did not know Paris and I spoke no French. I volunteered casually to make the meal. The effort started at dawn two days before the meal and ended 1/2 hour before the guests arrived, and I made cajun grilled red snapper and crab with hollandais sauce, having to source even the basic ingredients to make the spice mix, of which I did not know the French names. It was a long haul. I had to buy a pan. I was all over the city, got special ice cream, salad, cheese, wine the works. They enjoyed the meal, we talked an laughed until 2 in the morning, and they vowed to have us back the next week.

The next week, we arrived and she had made a yellow meal. It began with quiche. Nothing spectacular, a whole lot of salt, Fine, ok, I thought. With that, she served tabouli done French style, a cold and rather sticky sweet couscous concoction. I ooohed and ahhed over everything. She then said: Who wants more tabouli? I dutifully volunteered with a smile. She came out with a plastic box from the grocery store deli, and plopped a gob of the stuff on my plate. Oh thank you, this is delicious, I responded.

[Busboy]

Last night, I once again found myself in the unfortunate position of having to fake it. The smiles, the low gasp, the closed eyes... while I've never had to fake an orgasm, I sometimes find myself in the position of having to fake enjoying a meal.

It was a warm and sticky night, and my husband was craving Italian. There is no good Italian in this little town, but one restaurant makes a decent attempt, and a killer salad, to boot.

I ordered the salmon and scallops with red peppers, spinach, and mushroom; he got the spaghetti and clams in marinara. When our meals arrived, he dug into his with relish, exclaiming over the perfect hint of spice, the freshness of the clams. I was less than enamoured of my own meal. After having scallops fresh from the ocean just last week, these tired little specimens didn't quite live up to my expectations. There were 4 ragged pieces of baby spinach strewn across the plate, and two slice of wilted red pepper. The salmon was somewhat dry; the mushrooms were from a can. And everything came perched on top of a ridiculously large mountain of pasta, which was not hinted at upon the menu, nor mentioned by the server.

My husband could tell I was seriously not enjoying the scallops, so I faked enjoying the rest of it, just so that we could have an enjoyable evening, without him worrying that I was getting stiffed on my meal.

But still. IT SUCKED. When did I get so damned picky?

Do you ever find yourself in this deplorable situation?

"Close your eyes and think of England." (Just not the food)

I think sometimes you have to just say -- to yourself, your husband, your server - "this sucks" and cut your psychic losses. Either wash it back with lots of wine or push it aside and plan on peanut butter when you get home. As long as you're faking it with the food, you can't truly enjoy the conversation, the wine, the night air or whatever. It's triage.

With friends, however, you are honor bound to fake it if the food doesn't actively cause vomiting or a rash. Later , on your way home, you can make guilty fun of it with your partner.

[srhcb]

"But still. IT SUCKED. When did I get so damned picky?"

It's always a tough call. If I can offer what might be received as constructive crtitism I'll say something, otherwise it's grin and bear it. If I'm in the postion of a guest, either in a private home or a restaurant, I would only complain in an extreme circumstance.

It's only a meal, and even if the digestion process turns out to be somewhat disagreeable, it all comes out in the end.

[bilrus]

But still. IT SUCKED. When did I get so damned picky?

If you're anythin like me it happened sometime after 13-January 03 per your profile.

I know my sensitivity to eating crap went through the roof in the weeks and months after I first signed up for eGullet and realized that I could do better than I had been. Now that doesn't mean I don't still eat food that sucks, but if I do I don't enjoy it so much.

I eat a lot better since joining eGullet, but my ability to enjoy many less than stellar meals has gone down quite a bit.

Picky or discerning - its a fine line.

[sequim]

I eat a lot better since joining eGullet, but my ability to enjoy many less than stellar meals has gone down quite a bit.

Picky or discerning - its a fine line.

My mother calls me spoiled. I say I just don't want to eat food that's not good quality.

For me it happened once I started cooking more and delving into the world of cooking well. Yep, it's sad, you've lost your innocence and tolerance of mediocre food. I really agree that something should be said in a restaurant but I am mostly quiet and passive, grumbling to my dinner companion but that's it. I don't want to do that anymore. In fact, the poor food frequently happens at the more expensive restaurants! I feel so disappointed and then I go out less.

[Gifted Gourmet]

I eat a lot better since joining eGullet, but my ability to enjoy many less than stellar meals has gone down quite a bit.

Picky or discerning - its a fine line.

eGullet as "agent provocateur"??

subtitle? ... a little knowledge is a dangerous thing???

Not in my eyes ... more and more, eG!!

[srhcb]

But still. IT SUCKED.  When did I get so damned picky? 

If you're anythin like me it happened sometime after 13-January 03 per your profile.

I eat a lot better since joining eGullet, but my ability to enjoy many less than stellar meals has gone down quite a bit.

Picky or discerning - its a fine line.

While I hate to run the risk of incurring the wrath of eG's Board Administration two days in a row, I must point out that the line between discerning and snobbish is also a fine one, and one that I feel occationally gets crossed over around here.

Throughout history, and in a large part of the World today, the biggest problem people have had with food involves procuring enough of it to stay alive. My Mother's admonistions from my youth about "the starving Armenians" must be firmly implanted in my subconscious.

Of course, that's no reason not to seek out, prepare or enjoy a great meal.

SB (enjoy)

[clothier]

the lovely Mrs Clothier hates it when I send food back. So I avoid it if at all possible.

That said, I don't think the line between snobbish and disconcerning is small at all. I think it's huge, and it's all about the attitude that comes with it.

Julia Child- disconcerning but never snobbish.

make sense?

[s'kat]

At least I'm not alone! In fact, when my husband calls me picky, perhaps I should reply that I just know what I like.

bleudauvergne, you indeed have a heart of gold.

[SobaAddict70]

As with most things, it depends on context and situation.

One person's foodie might be your neighbor's fogey.

Soba

[beans]

But still. IT SUCKED.  When did I get so damned picky?  

If you're anythin like me it happened sometime after 13-January 03 per your profile.

I eat a lot better since joining eGullet, but my ability to enjoy many less than stellar meals has gone down quite a bit.

Picky or discerning - its a fine line.

While I hate to run the risk of incurring the wrath of eG's Board Administration two days in a row, I must point out that the line between discerning and snobbish is also a fine one, and one that I feel occationally gets crossed over around here.

Oh, please don't dredge up/resurrect that ugly can of worms again.

s'kat, I believe you just know what you like. Who cares what it is called?

[lala]

My "mmmm..." (can I leave now?) moment was at the hands of my roommate. Lovely Glaswegian girl, studying in San Francisco, decided to make dinner for me and her Sailor boyfriend (it's already good, right?!).

Dinner was a salad of iceburg lettuce with gloppy orange dressing. Ok, bad, but not horrifying. The entree was overcooked noodles in a delightful sauce of tomato soup and raw mushrooms. Now that was horrifying!

[jo-mel]

Years ago, a friend's Mother had a dinner of Flounder with a

White Sauce, Mashed Potatoes and Cauliflower. Totally white. I made the proper comments, as a guest would and should. My friend mentioned later that her Mother was not an inventive cook. It was good food ---- but totally white!! To this day we laugh about it, and say what a little pepper or parsley or paprika could have done.

[mags]

Years ago, a friend's Mother had a dinner of Flounder with a

White Sauce, Mashed Potatoes and Cauliflower. Totally white. I made the proper comments, as a guest would and should. My friend mentioned later that her Mother was not an inventive cook. It was good food ---- but totally white!! To this day we laugh about it, and say what a little pepper or parsley or paprika could have done.

When my mother was going to college in the late 40s -- a women's college -- every Thursday was "White Day" in the dining room. Mashed potatoes, steamed cod, and boiled cauliflower, with rice pudding for dessert. She still shudders at the memory.

[auntdot]

Poor food, at someone's home I just and act appreciatively.

Heck, it is just a meal and they went to the trouble of preparing it. God bless them.

In restaurants I usually just pay the bill and forget about it.

But when someone served us 'cooked carpaccio', that was going too far.

It was listed as carpaccio, no pertinent qualifiers attached, on the menu and the waiter did not indicate it had been cooked.

Deli roast beef with vinagrette and some capers at a pricey restaurant is to me, totally unacceptable.

Paid for the drinks, told them, politely, what they could do with the rest of the meal, and left.

Yeesh.

If that is being picky, so be it.

[mongo_jones]

when confronted with bad food at other people's homes you may consider the following stratagems:

1. a sudden attack of dysentery--of course, to be completely convincing you'll need to take up residence in the toilet and produce many authentic, agonized sounds and aromas; an added bonus: this can also be used to go home early if the conversation sucks too.

2. a sudden attack of religion--unlike dysentery religion will not require the production of agonizing sounds and aromas (unless you claim catholicism) but it will only work with people who don't know you well and who you don't expect to see again. this works best in the homes of wealthy liberals: "i'm sorry but my religion prohibits me from eating anything from a kitchen that's had blood/oatmeal present in it".

3. incredible clumsiness--easiest if there is an elaborate frilly table-cloth, in which case you can slide everything to the floor in one go. or if you'd rather be remembered as a fool than a klutz feign drunkenness and claim you can pull the table-cloth off without disturbing any off the food on it. if no table-cloth you can also take a swan-dive over it and fall short.

[andiesenji]

When a restaurant serves a meal that is of poor quality one should make it known, otherwise the quality of their food will further deteriorate because they will serve whatever they can get away with as long as people do not complain. When they have consistent complaints they know they will have to improve or go out of business.

If a patron settles for whatever is set before them, then they contribute to the poor quality of the food.

Recently I ordered an omelet at a local restaurant which I consider to have better than average food and is one that I frequent. I was specific that I wanted the omelet soft, I also was specific that I wanted the potatoes very well done.

The server brought the plate to me and obviously she could see the omelet was overdone because she stood there and asked me to check it. I cut into the rubbery mass and noted that it was inedible as far as I was concerned. The potatoes were soggy and not well done.....

She took it back, had a conversation with that cook and then had another cook prepare my omelet and potatoes which were served perfectly.

A very good friend who was in the food business for many years has often stated that serving less than optimal food to patrons is an insult. Often it is done deliberately by an employee that is unhappy with the owners or management and wants to make trouble. Far too often it is just because of laziness.

You are paying good money for the food and the service, in return you should receive good food and good service.

I doubt that anyone would pay without complaint if you were presented with a damaged piece of clothing when shopping for that, why should one be expected to pay for what is essentially damaged food.

[jo-mel]

Years ago, a friend's Mother had a dinner of Flounder with a

White Sauce, Mashed Potatoes and Cauliflower. Totally white.  I made the proper comments, as a guest would and should.  My friend mentioned later that her Mother was not an inventive cook. It was good food ---- but totally white!! To this day we laugh about it, and say what a little pepper or parsley or paprika could have done.

When my mother was going to college in the late 40s -- a women's college -- every Thursday was "White Day" in the dining room. Mashed potatoes, steamed cod, and boiled cauliflower, with rice pudding for dessert. She still shudders at the memory.

Your Mother's classmate must have been my friend's mother ---- who liked the white combo!! LOL!

There was a time (?20s /30s/40s??) when 'colored menus' were supposed to be the 'in' thing --- like all red or brown. Wherever I read about it, a red meal was described and it didn't sound either appetizing or even pretty. Rare beef, beets and tomatoes on a plate?

[srhcb]

There was a time (?20s /30s/40s??) when 'colored menus' were supposed to be the 'in' thing --- like all red or brown. Wherever I read about it, a red meal was described and it didn't sound either appetizing or even pretty. Rare beef, beets and tomatoes on a plate?

My Mother is a Home Ec grad from the 40's (BS U of MN) and she always made sure meals she served were color coordinated. She would even bring it to our attention.

I often find myself remembering this when I go to choose a vegetable to serve with dinner.

[Behemoth]

Hello, this is my third post on eGullet. I got my access yesterday (yay).

Last summer my husband and I moved from our respective fairly large cities with great restaurants to the middle of nowhere in the midwest. Him for a teaching job, me for grad school. It has been an adjustment, to say the least. (eGullet may yet be my salvation...)

So people aren't into food around here, at least not in the way I am used to. We have been invited and gone out for mostly mediocre to occasionaly bad meals here without much exception. But the one that took the cake...I feel kind of guilty writing about this but I really think it illustrates the culture shock for me...

Okay, our new neighbors. Young couple, really sweet. Shoulda known when they came over for dinner and the female neighbor (henceforth will be known as FN) had never had lamb. (Rogan Josh and it was glorious!) But anyway, they invited us over to dinner, and we happily accepted. They had clearly gone through a lot of effort and their place looked beautiful but it was fairly clear from the timing of the food that they had never really cooked a full sit-down meal before.

Anyway, starter was this cheesy appretizer casserol thing with artichokes. But FN had never eaten artichokes before, and had substituted pickled for fresh or frozen, which made the dish really salty. We had brought some prosecco with us, and I drank a little fast. But no matter.

Next up was a chunky potato cream soup with crab meat. I don't think the recipe was great to begin with, but FN apparently didn't realize that those pink crab sticks are well -- you know. Soup was pretty heavy and sweetish. Also. we each got giant bowls of the stuff so I was already slowing down.

Then the couple heads to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on main course, a lasagne. We are hanging out and talking to them through the cutaway to the dining room and it takes me a few minutes to realize what is going on but they are peeling little -- oh. Kraft american singles (the orange kind) on the lasagne. Yep. I think my jaw may have dropped but I recovered soon enough. Actually, at this point I was so full from the soup it didn't matter. I managed a few bites of the lasagne, and asked if I could take the rest home.

The thing is, nothing was really bad, it was just that there was so much effort and expense put into it that I felt kind of guilty, like I had at some point become a mean picky eater. But to tell the truth, if they had made hotdogs I would have been totally fine. Apart from the culture shock it was a really nice evening, very gracious so I can't say the food mattered apart from being funny.

Actually what I mind more around here is when we get invited to the home of facutly members who claim they like to cook, have traveled around enough to know better, and end up getting served angel hair spaghetti with canned meat sauce and salad with a bottle of orange dressing. I dunno, I realize I like to cook and other people don't but it seems one should at least try a little. With the younger couple it was just a question of sophistication, but in the latter case I had a hard time mustering up anything nice to say at all.

(edited for typos)

Edited April 26, 2004 by Behemoth (log)

[mongo_jones]

behemoth, that's the last time we're having you over for dinner.

[Barb48]

Last night, I once again found myself in the unfortunate position of having to fake it. The smiles, the low gasp, the closed eyes... while I've never had to fake an orgasm, I sometimes find myself in the position of having to fake enjoying a meal.

It was a warm and sticky night, and my husband was craving Italian. There is no good Italian in this little town, but one restaurant makes a decent attempt, and a killer salad, to boot.

I ordered the salmon and scallops with red peppers, spinach, and mushroom; he got the spaghetti and clams in marinara. When our meals arrived, he dug into his with relish, exclaiming over the perfect hint of spice, the freshness of the clams. I was less than enamoured of my own meal. After having scallops fresh from the ocean just last week, these tired little specimens didn't quite live up to my expectations. There were 4 ragged pieces of baby spinach strewn across the plate, and two slice of wilted red pepper. The salmon was somewhat dry; the mushrooms were from a can. And everything came perched on top of a ridiculously large mountain of pasta, which was not hinted at upon the menu, nor mentioned by the server.

My husband could tell I was seriously not enjoying the scallops, so I faked enjoying the rest of it, just so that we could have an enjoyable evening, without him worrying that I was getting stiffed on my meal.

But still. IT SUCKED. When did I get so damned picky?

Do you ever find yourself in this deplorable situation?

Gee, I just get back from vacation and tune in here, and figured while I was absent, eGullett turned into a "porn forum"!

[foodobsessed]

I know exactly what you mean S'Kat! I too wonder when I got so picky. However, I think we foodies can agree on a few things that restaurants should never do.

1. You should never serve mushrooms from a can. I mean...c'mon!!!

2. You should always devein shrimp!!! ALWAYS!!

3. Iceberg lettuce in a salad? Pathetic!!!!

4. "Sea Legs" are not crabmeat!!! Don't say it is!!!

These are my restaurant pet peeves. I seem to constantly be disappointed when I eat out. Very rarely am I happily surprised unless I venture into Manhattan or a great roadside joint recommended by roadfood.com. Most of the time I feel like there is no point eating out, since I think I can usually make it better. Snobby? Yes.....True?...Absolutely!!

I never "fake it" with my husband (food-wise I mean!), but with friends it's necessary (especially if someone is treating you to the meal. Most of my close acquaintances know how picky I am. Depressing.

Edited April 26, 2004 by foodobsessed (log)