There are certain clues that tell you how much a restaurant will cost. If the word cuisine appears in the advertising, it will be expensive. If they use the word food, it will be moderately priced. However, if the sign says eats, even though you’ll save some money on food, your medical bills may be quite high. b I don’t like trendy food. When I hear, “sauteed boneless panda groin,” I know I’m in the wrong place. There’s such a thing as pretentious food. Puree of woodchuck, marinated bat nipples, weasel chops, porcupine cacciatore. Or fried eagle. A guy said to me recently, “C’mon, we’ll go to Baxter’s, they have really great fried eagle.” I’m thinkin’ to myself, “Do I really wanna know this guy?” However, if you are going to dine with pretentious people, 4 here are some items you can order that are sure to impress: deep-dish moose balls, diced yak, badger gumbo, gorilla fondue, filet of hyena, jackal tartare, rack of prairie dog, free-range mole en brochette, wolf noodle soup, loin of chipmunk, curried woodpecker, stir-fried weasel, penguin scallopini, sweet-and-sour loon heads, whale chowder, toasted snail penises, koala flambe, wombat souvlaki, grenadine of mule, and candied goat anus.
Then, at the other end of the spectrum, there is the decid edly nontrendy restaurant, where the special sometimes is sim ply “meat.” Big sign in the window: “Today’s special: Meat.” “I’ll have the meat.” “Would you like sauce with that?” “What kind of sauce would that be?” “That would be meat sauce.” It’s similar to a fish sandwich. Have you ever seen these places that feature “fish sandwiches”? I always think, “Well, . that’s kind of general.” I mean, I wouldn’t order something called a “meat sandwich,” would you?” At least not without ‘ ;- a couple of follow-up questions: “Does anyone know where this meat came from?” “Are any of the waitresses missing?” I think when you eat out you should have a little fun; it’s good for digestion. Simple things. After the waiter recites a long list of specials, ask him if they serve cow feet.
But act really interested in the specials. When he says, “Today we have goat-cheese terrine with arugula juice, sauteed cod with capers and baby vegetables, coastal shrimp cooked in spiced carrot juice, roast free-range chicken with ginger and chickpea fries, and duck breast in truffle juice,” act like you’re completely involved. Say, “The cod. What is the cod sauteed in?” “A blend of canola and tomato oils.” (No hurry here.) “Ahhh, yes! [pointing thoughtfully at the waiter] I’ll have the grilled cheese sandwich.” Even some low-end places are pretentious. The menu can’t merely say “cheeseburger.” They have to get wordy. So, go along with them. When you order your food use their language. But you must look right at the waiter; no fair ‘ reading from the menu. Look him in the eye and say, “I’ll have the succulent, fresh-ground, government-inspected, choice, all-beef, six-ounce patty on your own award- & winning sesame-seed bun, topped with a generous slice of Wisconsin’s finest Grade-A cheddar cheese made from only ju premium milk and poured from large, galvanized steel cans, * having originally been extracted from a big, fat, smelly, champion blue-ribbon cow with a brain disease.”
Continue that style with other items: Instead of asking for a glass of water, say you’d like a “cylindrical, machine-blown, clear drinking vessel filled with nature’s own color-less, odorless, extra-wet, liquid water.” Have fun. Be difficult. Order unusual things: a chopped corn sandwich. Rye potato chips. Filet of bone with diced peas. Peanut butter and jellyfish. Ask for a glass of skim water. Insist on fried milk. Chocolate orange juice. Order a . grilled gorgonzola cheese sandwich on whole-wheat ‘ ladyfmgers. Then top the whole thing off with a bowl of food coloring and a large glass of saturated fat.
Issue special instructions. Ask for the French toast, medium rare. Get a pizza with no toppings, hold the crust. K- Tell ‘em you want eggs: “Fry the whites and poach the yolks.” Order a basket of poppy seed rolls and tell them to scrape off the seeds and put them in a separate bowl and heat them to 200 degrees. Keep them busy.
Tell your waiter you want to make a substitution: “Instead of my napkin, I’ll have the lobster tails.” See what he says. Ask him if the garnish is free. If it is, tell him all you’re having is a large plate of garnish.
If they have a salad bar, ask how many times you can go back. If they say as many times as you like, ask for a lawn bag. Come back the next day With a small truck. Tell them you weren’t quite finished eating the night before. You’re actually within your legal rights, because, technically, no one is ever finished eating. Ask him if the chef would mind preparing a dish that’s not on the menu. Then describe something simple but unusual. Like half a coconut filled with egg whites. When the waiter comes back and says, “Yes, the chef said he will be delighted to make that for you,” tell him, “Well, never mind, I don’t like that anymore.”
Giving the waiter your drink order can be fun. If you’re alone, show the guy you’re a real man. “Gimme a glass of napalm and paint thinner straight up.” Be an individualist; order a gin and hot chocolate. If you’re with a date, be sophisticated. Say, “I’ll have a rum and goat juice with a twist of cucumber on dry ice.” Always order your date’s drink; that’s very romantic. Especially if you’re trying to get laid. “The lady will have a martini, a glass of wine, two zombies, and a beer. And do you have any quaaludes?” By the way, if your date is complaining of constipation, order her a prune margarita with a twist of Feenamint. When the food arrives, change your mind. Say, “I’ve changed my mind, waiter. Instead of the roast suckling pig, I believe I’ll have a half order of Kellogg’s Product 19.”
And always, when the food arrives, send something h back. It’s considered very sophisticated. But make sure you use colorful language. Tell him, “Waiter, this veal tastes like the inside front panel of Ferdinand Magellan’s shorts. And I’m referring to the first voyage.” Show him you’re a man of new ideas. When he comes with the pepper mill, refuse the pepper, but tell him to sprinkle some dandruff on your food.
Actually, the pepper mill can be a source of great fun. Disturbingly long. Like, for about fifteen minutes. Until everyone in the restaurant is really uncomfortable. Then, when your food and silverware are completely covered with a thin layer of ground pepper, say, “Okay, stop! That’s perfect!” Then, a few minutes later, call the waiter over and tell him, “This food has way too much pepper on it!” Now that you have your food, the waiter can begin to ask you if everything is all right. “Is everything all right?” “Yes. Thank you. Good-bye!” Some waiters are very persis- ri tent. I had one call me at home the following day. “Did the food stay down?” Usually, when they ask me if everything is all right, I’ll tell them the truth. I say, “Well, I had a problem with the L peas. I received 143 peas. Of them, 36 were overcooked, 27 were undercooked, and 18 were not quite the same color as the others.”
Or I’ll tell them more than they really want to know. “No, everything is not all right. I’m going through a period of upheaval. I have a rogue polyp in my bowel, my wife ran off brain droppings with a periodontist, and my son has been arrested for defecating in a mall.” And always fill out the “How did we do?” card. It’s very helpful to the owner. “Everything was wonderful, except the waiter had some vomit on his shoes and a tiny snot on the end of his nose. It was small, but it was definitely a snot.”I hope these pointers and suggestions will enhance your next experience dining out. Tell ‘em George sent you.
BREADSTICKS: If drumsticks are for playing drums, you’d think breadsticks would be for playing bread, wouldn’t you? “Would you like some breadsticks?” “No thank you. I don’t play bread; I play drums. Perhaps I’ll have a drum roll.”
SHELLED PEANUTS: Why don’t shelled peanuts have shells? If you’re clothed, you have clothes, so if you’re shelled, you should have shells. You’d think they’d call peanuts without shells, “unshelled” peanuts, wouldn’t you? Same goes for pitted prunes. And boned chicken. I ask you, Where are the bones? I can’t find them. In my opinion, it ought to be called de-boned chicken. And what about semi-boneless ham? What’s going on? Does it have only half a bone? Or does “semi-boneless ham” mean that some complete object that is not entirely a bone has been removed from the ham?
WAFFLE IRON: Why on earth would you want to iron a waffle? Wouldn’t that just flatten out all the little squares? No, I believe waffles should be dry cleaned. Pancakes, of course, should always be ironed. Everyone thinks they have a really good idea for a restaurant but I’ve heard some terrible schemes. I even had a few myself. My first idea was: All You Can Eat for 60 Cents. That didn’t work. So I went the other way: All You Can Eat for $1500. That didn’t work either. Then I made my fatal mistake: All You Can Eat for Free. Closed after one meal.
My next idea was The Used Footwear Restaurant. Our slogan was, How Would You Like to Enjoy a Nice Hot Meal Eaten Out of Someone Else’s Used Footwear? Somehow, it didn’t work. Although, after I sold it, it became the very successful fast-food franchise, Beef in a Brogan. Chili Alley was my favorite, and a lot of people got a kick out of it. It was a drive-through chili restaurant. And you didn’t even have to slow down. You could drive through at speeds up to 40 miles an hour, and we would shoot the chili at you from a shotgun. Just two dollars. Both barrels, three-fifty. Dry cleaning extra. Vinny’s House of Toast. This was great. My partner Vinny and I triedto come up with 101 different ways to serve toast. Eventually, we could only settle on three. The first item was . . . toast. Basically, an order of toast. With something on it—butter, margarine, jelly, whatever. The second thing we came up with was … a double order of toast. That would be, of course, twice as much toast, along with double the butter, margarine, jelly, whatever. The only other thing we could think of was something I liked a lot: a toast sandwich. Usually on toast. We also tried Toast on a Bun, but the public wasn’t ready. Too high-concept. Then there was Bombs Away. This was an idea that should have worked. Patrons were seated on the ground floor; the kitchen was on the balcony. When your order wasready, you stood under the balcony holding a plate, and the chef dropped your food while everyone yelled, “Bombs away!” It worked great with steak and chops. But the idea began to unravel when we tried things like soup and creamed spinach. Peas were a definite problem, too. My last unsuccessful attempt was The Top of the Schmuck. It was a ten-story statue of a schmuck wearing a cowboy hat, with a revolving restaurant in the hatband. The problem was, it rotated way too fast. People got sick just waiting for a table. But I still think the idea was basically sound. Bon appetit. On Thanksgiving at our house we like variety, so we don’t have turkey every year. Last year we had a swan. It was nice; everyone got some neck. Another year we had a seagull. Delicious! It’s a little fishy, but at least there’s no need to add salt. Two years ago we had a stork. Lots of meat, but, Jesus, the wishbone makes a helluva noise. This year we’re expecting a few people over, so we’re having a flamingo. And I’m getting the leg that folds up. They say the meat is sweeter and more tender because the flamingo doesn’t use it much.
Then, at the other end of the spectrum, there is the decid edly nontrendy restaurant, where the special sometimes is sim ply “meat.” Big sign in the window: “Today’s special: Meat.” “I’ll have the meat.” “Would you like sauce with that?” “What kind of sauce would that be?” “That would be meat sauce.” It’s similar to a fish sandwich. Have you ever seen these places that feature “fish sandwiches”? I always think, “Well, . that’s kind of general.” I mean, I wouldn’t order something called a “meat sandwich,” would you?” At least not without ‘ ;- a couple of follow-up questions: “Does anyone know where this meat came from?” “Are any of the waitresses missing?” I think when you eat out you should have a little fun; it’s good for digestion. Simple things. After the waiter recites a long list of specials, ask him if they serve cow feet.
But act really interested in the specials. When he says, “Today we have goat-cheese terrine with arugula juice, sauteed cod with capers and baby vegetables, coastal shrimp cooked in spiced carrot juice, roast free-range chicken with ginger and chickpea fries, and duck breast in truffle juice,” act like you’re completely involved. Say, “The cod. What is the cod sauteed in?” “A blend of canola and tomato oils.” (No hurry here.) “Ahhh, yes! [pointing thoughtfully at the waiter] I’ll have the grilled cheese sandwich.” Even some low-end places are pretentious. The menu can’t merely say “cheeseburger.” They have to get wordy. So, go along with them. When you order your food use their language. But you must look right at the waiter; no fair ‘ reading from the menu. Look him in the eye and say, “I’ll have the succulent, fresh-ground, government-inspected, choice, all-beef, six-ounce patty on your own award- & winning sesame-seed bun, topped with a generous slice of Wisconsin’s finest Grade-A cheddar cheese made from only ju premium milk and poured from large, galvanized steel cans, * having originally been extracted from a big, fat, smelly, champion blue-ribbon cow with a brain disease.”
Continue that style with other items: Instead of asking for a glass of water, say you’d like a “cylindrical, machine-blown, clear drinking vessel filled with nature’s own color-less, odorless, extra-wet, liquid water.” Have fun. Be difficult. Order unusual things: a chopped corn sandwich. Rye potato chips. Filet of bone with diced peas. Peanut butter and jellyfish. Ask for a glass of skim water. Insist on fried milk. Chocolate orange juice. Order a . grilled gorgonzola cheese sandwich on whole-wheat ‘ ladyfmgers. Then top the whole thing off with a bowl of food coloring and a large glass of saturated fat.
Issue special instructions. Ask for the French toast, medium rare. Get a pizza with no toppings, hold the crust. K- Tell ‘em you want eggs: “Fry the whites and poach the yolks.” Order a basket of poppy seed rolls and tell them to scrape off the seeds and put them in a separate bowl and heat them to 200 degrees. Keep them busy.
Tell your waiter you want to make a substitution: “Instead of my napkin, I’ll have the lobster tails.” See what he says. Ask him if the garnish is free. If it is, tell him all you’re having is a large plate of garnish.
If they have a salad bar, ask how many times you can go back. If they say as many times as you like, ask for a lawn bag. Come back the next day With a small truck. Tell them you weren’t quite finished eating the night before. You’re actually within your legal rights, because, technically, no one is ever finished eating. Ask him if the chef would mind preparing a dish that’s not on the menu. Then describe something simple but unusual. Like half a coconut filled with egg whites. When the waiter comes back and says, “Yes, the chef said he will be delighted to make that for you,” tell him, “Well, never mind, I don’t like that anymore.”
Giving the waiter your drink order can be fun. If you’re alone, show the guy you’re a real man. “Gimme a glass of napalm and paint thinner straight up.” Be an individualist; order a gin and hot chocolate. If you’re with a date, be sophisticated. Say, “I’ll have a rum and goat juice with a twist of cucumber on dry ice.” Always order your date’s drink; that’s very romantic. Especially if you’re trying to get laid. “The lady will have a martini, a glass of wine, two zombies, and a beer. And do you have any quaaludes?” By the way, if your date is complaining of constipation, order her a prune margarita with a twist of Feenamint. When the food arrives, change your mind. Say, “I’ve changed my mind, waiter. Instead of the roast suckling pig, I believe I’ll have a half order of Kellogg’s Product 19.”
And always, when the food arrives, send something h back. It’s considered very sophisticated. But make sure you use colorful language. Tell him, “Waiter, this veal tastes like the inside front panel of Ferdinand Magellan’s shorts. And I’m referring to the first voyage.” Show him you’re a man of new ideas. When he comes with the pepper mill, refuse the pepper, but tell him to sprinkle some dandruff on your food.
Actually, the pepper mill can be a source of great fun. Disturbingly long. Like, for about fifteen minutes. Until everyone in the restaurant is really uncomfortable. Then, when your food and silverware are completely covered with a thin layer of ground pepper, say, “Okay, stop! That’s perfect!” Then, a few minutes later, call the waiter over and tell him, “This food has way too much pepper on it!” Now that you have your food, the waiter can begin to ask you if everything is all right. “Is everything all right?” “Yes. Thank you. Good-bye!” Some waiters are very persis- ri tent. I had one call me at home the following day. “Did the food stay down?” Usually, when they ask me if everything is all right, I’ll tell them the truth. I say, “Well, I had a problem with the L peas. I received 143 peas. Of them, 36 were overcooked, 27 were undercooked, and 18 were not quite the same color as the others.”
Or I’ll tell them more than they really want to know. “No, everything is not all right. I’m going through a period of upheaval. I have a rogue polyp in my bowel, my wife ran off brain droppings with a periodontist, and my son has been arrested for defecating in a mall.” And always fill out the “How did we do?” card. It’s very helpful to the owner. “Everything was wonderful, except the waiter had some vomit on his shoes and a tiny snot on the end of his nose. It was small, but it was definitely a snot.”I hope these pointers and suggestions will enhance your next experience dining out. Tell ‘em George sent you.
BREADSTICKS: If drumsticks are for playing drums, you’d think breadsticks would be for playing bread, wouldn’t you? “Would you like some breadsticks?” “No thank you. I don’t play bread; I play drums. Perhaps I’ll have a drum roll.”
SHELLED PEANUTS: Why don’t shelled peanuts have shells? If you’re clothed, you have clothes, so if you’re shelled, you should have shells. You’d think they’d call peanuts without shells, “unshelled” peanuts, wouldn’t you? Same goes for pitted prunes. And boned chicken. I ask you, Where are the bones? I can’t find them. In my opinion, it ought to be called de-boned chicken. And what about semi-boneless ham? What’s going on? Does it have only half a bone? Or does “semi-boneless ham” mean that some complete object that is not entirely a bone has been removed from the ham?
WAFFLE IRON: Why on earth would you want to iron a waffle? Wouldn’t that just flatten out all the little squares? No, I believe waffles should be dry cleaned. Pancakes, of course, should always be ironed. Everyone thinks they have a really good idea for a restaurant but I’ve heard some terrible schemes. I even had a few myself. My first idea was: All You Can Eat for 60 Cents. That didn’t work. So I went the other way: All You Can Eat for $1500. That didn’t work either. Then I made my fatal mistake: All You Can Eat for Free. Closed after one meal.
My next idea was The Used Footwear Restaurant. Our slogan was, How Would You Like to Enjoy a Nice Hot Meal Eaten Out of Someone Else’s Used Footwear? Somehow, it didn’t work. Although, after I sold it, it became the very successful fast-food franchise, Beef in a Brogan. Chili Alley was my favorite, and a lot of people got a kick out of it. It was a drive-through chili restaurant. And you didn’t even have to slow down. You could drive through at speeds up to 40 miles an hour, and we would shoot the chili at you from a shotgun. Just two dollars. Both barrels, three-fifty. Dry cleaning extra. Vinny’s House of Toast. This was great. My partner Vinny and I triedto come up with 101 different ways to serve toast. Eventually, we could only settle on three. The first item was . . . toast. Basically, an order of toast. With something on it—butter, margarine, jelly, whatever. The second thing we came up with was … a double order of toast. That would be, of course, twice as much toast, along with double the butter, margarine, jelly, whatever. The only other thing we could think of was something I liked a lot: a toast sandwich. Usually on toast. We also tried Toast on a Bun, but the public wasn’t ready. Too high-concept. Then there was Bombs Away. This was an idea that should have worked. Patrons were seated on the ground floor; the kitchen was on the balcony. When your order wasready, you stood under the balcony holding a plate, and the chef dropped your food while everyone yelled, “Bombs away!” It worked great with steak and chops. But the idea began to unravel when we tried things like soup and creamed spinach. Peas were a definite problem, too. My last unsuccessful attempt was The Top of the Schmuck. It was a ten-story statue of a schmuck wearing a cowboy hat, with a revolving restaurant in the hatband. The problem was, it rotated way too fast. People got sick just waiting for a table. But I still think the idea was basically sound. Bon appetit. On Thanksgiving at our house we like variety, so we don’t have turkey every year. Last year we had a swan. It was nice; everyone got some neck. Another year we had a seagull. Delicious! It’s a little fishy, but at least there’s no need to add salt. Two years ago we had a stork. Lots of meat, but, Jesus, the wishbone makes a helluva noise. This year we’re expecting a few people over, so we’re having a flamingo. And I’m getting the leg that folds up. They say the meat is sweeter and more tender because the flamingo doesn’t use it much.