By Dick Brooks
For Capital Region Independent Media
While casting about one slow afternoon for other uses for this creative mass of mental mold I seem to have been blessed with, I stumbled across a neglected area of journalism that exists in our area.
It just seems like something I’d be perfect for. I have the writing skills, after all, I write a column read by dozens of people every week. It involves euphemisms, something a teacher is good at — you know, saying something in a more pleasant way.
It’s not really lying, just being kinder and gentler like instead of saying, “Your kid is dumber than a sack of rocks in math!” You might say, “I’ve noticed that little Johnny sometimes loses focus in math.” Instead of commenting on the fact that you think their gene pool needs some chlorine, you could say, “I’ll bet little Johnny gets his math ability from you, doesn’t he?” Well, you get the idea.
Anyway, that’s why I’ve decided to become a menu consultant.
We have a lot of good eateries in our area. The only thing standing between them and fame and fortune is their menus.
Just look at some of the local menus, they only tell you what you’re going to be served. There is no mystery or glamour involved in that, you might as well hit the drive-thru at MacWendy’s. They have to jazz things up, pile on the adjectives like they do in the fancy places in the city and they’d be beating the customers off with bat.
An example comes to mind. Their Highnesses, The Queen and The Princess, have a restaurant they just love to go to. I go with them, but usually under protest. I’m still convinced I got food poisoning there once as a result of tangling with a bad soy sprout.
The place serves no real food, everything is either white or green. Nothing that vaguely resembles red meat or a hamburger can be found in the place, but every time we go, there always seems to be a line of folks who just can’t wait to get through the doors.
The only reason I can see is their menu. The thing has so many adjectives piled on it the poor waitresses can hardly carry it. They’ve got this euphemism thing down pat.
“Fried fish” becomes “a tender filet of freshly caught North Atlantic Whitefish reposing on a crispy bed of organically grown soybean sprouts after being cooked to a golden brown in the finest Far Eastern petroleum products.” How could you resist? The more adjectives on the menu, the higher the prices go.
I could do this. I could be good at menu writing and I would be performing a service for mankind and the local eateries at the same time. It might even be worth my time to study French. Folks will order anything with lots of adjectives and a few French words mixed in. You could sell doggie-doo on a shingle if you wrote it in French and put it on a bed of something organic.
I’ve noticed that “organic” is used a lot on today’s menus. When I was younger, the phrase “home cooking” used to appear everywhere culinary. Don’t see it as much anymore, I guess that’s a commentary of how our daily life is changing and explains why more people are eating out.
Well, I guess I’ll go peruse through my Funk & Wagnalls and start rounding up adjectives. If you own a restaurant out there and want some help with your menu, be sure to call.
Thought for the week — The real reason you can’t take it with you when you go… is that it goes before you do.
Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.
Reach columnist Dick Brooks at whittle12124@yahoo.com.
