COOK’S HUMOR
Too bad it’s hindsight that’s always 20-20. I could be sitting on a millions bucks – thanks to a New Yorker who made headlines recently - had I known 15 years ago what I know now.
It was about that long ago when we went out for dinner to a steakhouse on the outskirts of town. Although it’s been closed for some time now, the place used to be a landmark in the area and since this was our first time there, we had really been looking forward to it. And yet, we never went back.
Not because the steaks didn’t live up to their reputation and not because the price was too high. The problem was, we could hardly reach the table!
Now, barely tipping 5’2” at the time (I’ve since lost almost two inches somewhere along the way), I was no stranger to this predicament and have learned to take it in stride – or at least, worse case scenario, sit on my coat. But in this instance I could hardly see the tabletop. Even my dearly beloved, who dwarfs me at a lofty six-foot-two, had a problem with his chair being too low (or the table too high) to eat comfortably, so you can imagine how it was for me.
At first glance, we thought it was a joke. You couldn’t help but notice the minute you walked in the door how low the chairs were compared to the height of the tables. We wondered if it were just a few tables and chairs for whatever reason, but soon realized it was every table and every chair. When we mentioned this to the server, we just got a blank stare, like there was something wrong with us - like no one else in all the years before had ever noticed or complained about it.
Besides the fact that I could hardly see the tabletop from my low vantage point, by the time we were done eating, my arms were sore from holding them up above my shoulders to butter my bread, cut my steak, and all the other hand gestures that go into eating at an eyebrow level table.
But back to the New Yorker I mentioned earlier, in case you’re wondering how he had anything to do with me missing out on a million bucks, he’s the guy who’s suing White Castle because of their inadequate seating accommodations. The story goes, when he tried to wedge himself into their too-narrow-for-his-bulky-frame booth, he banged his knee on the table’s metal support and had to “limp out of the restaurant, humiliated.” So he’s suing White Castle under the Americans with Disabilities Act (his disability being that he weighs 290 pounds) and says they are violating his civil liberties. So the point is I could have sued the steakhouse for violating mine.
Here’s a self-admitted obese/overweight person with a self-inflicted “disability” accusing a restaurant of violating his civil rights because he’s too fat to fit in their booth. And there I was, a mature adult no taller than a 13-year old through
no fault of my own, unable to reach the table to enjoy my steak dinner and ending up with sore arms. What about the civil rights of short people? Should we be excluded from this protection under the law? I think not. I should have sued for a million bucks.
But like I said, hindsight is always 20-20, so the only thing I can do now is console myself with some nice comfort food like a big helping of Mac and Cheese. This recipe starts with a box of store bought, but with a little doctoring it tastes like real home made. You can use Kraft if you like, but I used a less expensive store brand and it turned out great.
DOCTORED UP BOX MAC AND CHEESE
1 7-1/4 oz. box macaroni 1/2 cup sour cream
and cheese 1 Tbsp. butter, melted
1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese 6 Ritz crackers, crushed
Prepare as directed on package, using additional ingredients included with instructions. Stir in the shredded cheese and sour cream. Spoon into a greased casserole dish. Top with a little extra cheese if desired. Mix cracker crumbs and butter; sprinkle over top. Bake about 20 minutes or until heated through.
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