Mother, May I (Make You Feel Awkward)?

happy belated mamas day. did everyone have a good mamas day?

i took my
moms
and daddums to brunch on sunday. i know, i am the queen of original thoughts and ideas! it was at a fancypants restaurant. we blended in so well, almost too well…let me explain away the sarcasm until it no longer stings.

first of all…everyone else dining at the establishment had on one or more of the following things — pastel sweater, set of pearls, a smug smile, a boat. ok you caught me on the last one. no one was wearing a boat. but there were plenty of wealthy, presumably pedicured feet bedecked in boat shoes. why wear boat shoes on land? why ask pointless questions when in rome? exactly.


i bet bigfoot wears these. yes, i realize that jab doesn’t even make sense.
photo courtesy of Flickr and Petey P

anyway, our waitress shows up and well, let’s just start with the waitress. our waitress was coiffed, fully dressed to the nines in full waiter attire and had a fixed penetrating smile that looked like it had been in permanent employment since before the civil war.

more generally, there was no waitstaff in the entire restaurant under the age of 40. these were not would-be actresses and/or actors trying to make ends meet until their stars aligned to make them into stars! these were not servers and busboys by day, potters by night! these were PROFESSIONAL waiters and waitresses, with PhDs in wine pouring, turkey slicing and plate balancing. if you had asked them for enlightenment, without flinching, they would have promptly brought it for you fresh in a funky asymmetrical bowl garnished with whatever herb was currently en vogue (FYI i heard sage just got a centerspread in this month’s Bon Appétit).


the ever elusive species known as the professional waiter
photo courtesy of Flickr and christophepaul2000

anyway, somehow between declining mimosas and feeling our way through the menu, which was written in the ever trendy “it” font of the moment (which bore a striking resemblance to hieroglyphics), we ordered a random set of food items. luckily, our waitress had extensive training in feigning respect and decorum. as each item arrived, my parents would poke through it as if it were a crime scene, needing further investigation. there was some trepidation and serious hesitation and i, the usual vacuum cleaner of unwanted bits, could not eat anything that did not have the consistency of a pudding snack due to my recent tooth surgery (in the true spirit of mamas day, my mother chewed most of my food for me, regurgitated it and then let me have my fill).


mommy helping me with lunch
photo courtesy of Flickr and Gosiak

finally, after desecrating most of the chef’s masterpieces –including a miniature bread basket with biscuits and muffins the size of pennies; a gentle hazelnut bisque with an amorphous demigod statue made of goat cheese reclining in the middle of it; a heart of palm, mandarin orange and gorgonzola salad chaperoned by some sassy almonds; olive- and parmesan-encrusted (more like infested) tofu lost in a tomato and oil sea with a niçoise salad raft overflowing with potato and caper refugees; a gouda and sundried tomato flatbread (in laymen’s terms = pizza); a broccoli, cheddar and fennel quiche (i hollowed out the crust and just ate the innards, like a vulture!); and tempura mixed vegetables (in laymen’s terms = onion rings) –we tried to leave as demurely as possible.


prepare for annihilation
photo courtesy of Flickr and ckittyward

however, we insisted that we get one 2 in. x 2 in. square of flatbread and half a sliver of tofu packed to go. we also graciously allowed a man to take our picture (with our very own coolpix camera, of course). it’s called having class, people.


my family is almost as natural at posing as this girl
photo courtesy of Flickr and Sweet Laughter

NON-SEQUITUR

best typo of the day, from a friend’s email–
so there’s this great hop hop concert you guys should check out this weekend.

if someone creates a genre of music called hop hop, i’m onboard.

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