Valentine's Day - How to Fake it in a Restaurant

Do you remember that hilarious restaurant scene in the romantic 1989 film, When Harry Met Sally? Yes, you know exactly which scene I mean! Who can forget the in-booth gymnastics that Meg Ryan's Sally performed, to prove her point to Billy Crystal's Harry? Quite possibly, the funniest part of all is when film director Rob Reiner's mother says to the waitress, "I'll have what she's having."

Certainly, somebody was faking it in a restaurant. Of course, that's not what we're talking about here. (Gee, where was your mind?)

Congeniality Counts.

If you are fortunate enough to enjoy an evening out for dinner, whether on Valentine's Day or another occasion, the success of the event may hinge largely on your cordiality. Host or guest, you are expected to be amiable and sociable.

Even if you find the food unpalatable, you will benefit no one by making this a major issue of the evening. If the company you keep is worth keeping, then the quality of the food should not be allowed to destroy a pleasant evening.

Of course, in a restaurant, you may politely ask for alterations to be made to unacceptable dishes, if possible. For example, if your steak is undercooked, this can easily be improved, if you ask your server to send it back for a little longer. If you need additional salad dressing or condiments, you should feel free to ask. But, if you are simply disappointed with the flavoring, the presentation or the food itself, you may have to grin and bear it. (Besides, you can always go home and publish a scathing restaurant review later, if you wish!)

If the situation cannot be remedied, your best response is to make the most of things as cheerfully as possible. For example, if you are a guest in the host's home, and the food is simply awful, then you have no gracious recourse, except to do your best to manage your way through the meal.

Here are a few diversion tactics, to help you mask the fact that you cannot eat the food:

Be a little pushy, but only with the food.

Push the food around on your plate, re-piling items as you do so. You want the food to look as if you have eaten at least some of it.

Dazzle everyone with your charm.

Become a brilliant conversationalist to distract others from your hesitancy to eat the inedible provisions.

Stick to subtlety.

Avoid over-complimenting the cook, as this may lead to additional helpings!

Volunteer to bat cleanup, if you can.

Offer to help clear the table (if you are dining in someone's home). Start with your own dishes. In the kitchen, scrape off a few plates, including yours, before anyone notices that you have left your food uneaten.

Make a pit stop.

Excuse yourself to the bathroom towards the end of the meal. Place your silverware, side-by side, across your dinner plate. This indicates that you have finished eating. Perhaps your plate will be cleared away before you return.

Take tips from kids.

Confession may be good for the soul, and also for the stomach, so I will confess here! As a child, I hated vegetables. Over the years, I developed many surreptitious strategies to hide this from my nutrition-conscious parents:

Tuck and cover.

I would tuck the undesired food in one cheek and excuse myself from the table, while trying to camouflage my bulging cheeks. In the bathroom, I would spit out the nasties and flush them.

Stash and trash.

I would wrap the icky tidbits into a paper napkin, hide it in my fist or a pocket and slip it into the garbage can after leaving the dinner table.

Feed the dog.

I would hand off bite-sized pieces of unpleasant foods to the dog under the table, hoping she would not choke or gag on these items, as I had.

Share the wealth.

I would surreptitiously slip unwanted foods to other diners at the table, who actually enjoyed these, at least for a small fee.

Go green.

I would bury unpalatable fruits and vegetables in the potted plant centerpiece on the table. Incidentally, from personal experience, I advise against attempting this with uncooked produce. We somewhat spontaneously found lima beans growing in our kitchen one year.

Expectorate with results.

In desperate moments, I would spit items into the dog's dish. Somehow, this strategy always backfired. I don't know how she did it, but our smart old dog often ate around tiny vegetables. No one ever could figure out how those minced carrots appeared in the dog's dish.

Mom, are you reading this?