Went to Pigalle on Wednesday, the night of the day that I started this blog. After thinking about and creating the mission for this blog and doing a little blogging about all the potential the dangers that eating-out holds for me, I got to Pigalle and lost my appetite. I ended up having a simple dry arugula salad.
I still had the discussion with the server—No Nuts Anywhere, etc. But really I punked out about eating out. I didn’t order the burger which I wanted to try, I didn’t ask about the fries [what oil are they fried in], I did have a bite of my buddy Matt’s steak, which was yummy, but I simply froze about placing my own order.
And that happens sometimes. Sometimes I just get exhausted by myself, by the stream of questions for what is usually a clueless server: what oil do they cook with or dress the salad with; what will they leave out of a dish or what they will put in so I can eat it. It’s all very tiring. And, it doesn’t always work.
[With food allergies, you don’t always know what it is you’re allergic to; it could be something in the sauce in combination with your cocktail and the new moisturizer you just started using and could have nothing to do with what you told the waiter to leave out of your dish. Sigh.]
Sometimes, like at Pigalle on Wednesday, I just freeze and eat nothing and then eat at home later, disappointed with myself for not trusting the chef who personally reassured me or for not trying something new that sounded delicious.
Sounds like I should eat at home more doesn't it? And I do; I’ve been cooking yummy meals for my family and myself since I became a vegetarian back in High School. But I also love the theater that this city provides by going out to dine. So I go. And I work hard at not getting too wrapped up in the if-I-eat-this-I-might-die-dilemma. Except when I do. And then work hard to be gentle with myself and enjoy my simple dry salad.