They say you are what you eat.
If that is true – the woman sitting next to me at breakfast in my hotel, was glaring disapprovingly at my breakfast menu selection – I must be an ax murderer.
For me it was just a preferred Sunday morning choice: a stack of Plain Jane pancakes, a rasher of bacon and two poached eggs on top of the pancakes…covered in syrup. Yeah, there was some maple infused butter involved in the concoction. My fellow traveler at the next table clearly had no imagination, culinary curiosity, or a sense of humor.
Ironically, Ms. Uptight ordered bangers and mash – sausages piled on a mound of mashed potatoes and gravy, lots of gravy. She requested the gravy on the side and then, at 7:45 AM, asked for a side of mustard. Lest we forget, she requested a sweet sausage if the Chef could “capably manage.”
I am betting she is the same woman who tried to book a table at an all-seafood restaurant in Seattle with specific instructions for the Chef to use caution since she had a serious allergy to – yes, fish.
Then there is the blogger who reported, “I like oatmeal with sautéed peppers and onions, cheese, crushed red pepper, a dash of Frank’s hot sauce and topped with an over easy egg!”
A friend, someone I hate to meet for breakfast because one of his favorite choices is scrambled egg with peanut butter, bragged that he once unsuccessfully tried a food blogger’s suggestion of fried eggs, tuna and ketchup. The waiters always stare for what seems like minutes before they break into a smirkish smile followed by some raucous laughter.
If that weren’t embarrassing enough, you can always tell when your order hits the kitchen because line cooks strain their necks to see where the food idiots are sitting.
This Sunday, if I weren’t so overly focused on my waistline, I think I would order a peanut butter and jelly omelet. With Maple Syrup.