Don't Go Out To Eat With Me. Period.

Because I will ruin your dining experience, likely.

Unless that's what you're looking for...in that case, I'm free most evenings of the week and willing to drive just about anywhere.

You all know I'm in my 6th term (or, penultimate, if you're looking to boost vocab) of culinary school...and since week two of the entire program, people have been asking me if it's difficult to eat out because I can't helping critiquing. And I've usually responded in the affirmative because yeah, knowing what I know about the foodservice industry...? I know all the shortcuts. I know that lots of people around here aren't terribly discerning in their tastes...and lots of food-type products get passed off as 'gourmet'.

Case in point, my husband's pork roast lunch.

The pork slices were juicy, but otherwise rather flavorless, which made me wonder if it were pre-prepared or what. The mashed potatoes, although they had green flecks of something in them, tasted like instant. The stuffing was mushy and moist (it might have been homemade), and the corn was the straight-up gold kernel standard from a can. And half the plate was covered in a brown gravy...beef gravy. BEEF.

Of course, my husband was despondent after I ripped his lunch apart...but he managed to finish it anyway.

And I don't know what is more head-shaking...the fact that the restaurant serves this...or that people keep ordering it (in the course of our time there, waitresses delivered the pork roast lunch four times).

I suppose this is just one of the minor unpleasantnesses of being in the industry.

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To Thine Own Self, Be Food

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