When you never know what to order in a restaurant
Adeline loves food, lots of it and often, both at home and out. Usually that goes well, but sometimes it doesn’t. In the Sunday Roast series, she shares her observations. This time: when you can’t choose.
It happened to me again last week at Hotel New York: choice stress bordering on panic. This happens when there are too many different delicious things on one menu. A food hall is basically a horror story for me too, because I want to eat everything. No matter what I do, I end up running through one of those halls all evening.
Knowing all the choices
At this Rotterdam classic, I opened the now-digital menu, saw something with pulled chicken—which I always want to eat, everywhere—and thought I was all set. Until my dining companion said she was having a twaalfuurtje, because then you get a delicious bit of everything. And suddenly a twaalfuurtje seemed like a good idea to me too, even though I normally don’t like twaalfuurtjes at all.
My second dining companion spotted a hamburger with a crispy onion. As little as I like twaalfuurtjes, I love hamburgers, so maybe I wanted a hamburger too. The third person at the table still had no idea, which I found slightly irritating as well, because naturally I wanted to know all the options before making my own choice.
Peeking at the neighbors
At the table next to mine, I had seen a substantial plate of mussels, which suddenly made me crave them too. Though I hesitated, because if you grow up near the Zeeland border, mussels in a city are dangerous—but hey, surely it could work here. But with those mussels came two more choices: the more traditional preparation with white wine, or Pernod and garlic with cream. Honestly, life is just mean when you have to choose between white wine and cream.
Stratego at the table
Ideally, I do what I did the night before at Marathonweg. Just have the entire table filled with food. So full that you have to play a sort of Stratego to fit everything on the table. The fun server would have loved to join us, because she thought everything was so delicious herself. I went from sweet-potato fries with truffle mayo to a slice of Margherita pizza, finishing with a little dim sum before dipping a few more shrimp in sriracha. I love these kinds of schizophrenic table situations. Though, in a very Dutch fashion, we did leave one pathetic little dim sum in a basket, which no one dared to eat. In the end, you’re actually better off with a plate.
Choosing your tactics
If I know in advance that filling the whole table isn’t an option, I make sure I’ve done my homework, so I know exactly what I want. Then I try not to tell the person I’m going with, because otherwise you come across as compulsive. I never have this problem with my partner anyway, because he always chooses what I choose, afraid that whatever he picks will be less delicious than what I have. That always keeps me safely on the right track at the table.
PS: I had the mussels in Pernod and then soaked up the cream with every piece of bread left on the table. Best choice ever.
Also read:
