Kasbah Grill and Terms of Endearment

One of my favorite things to do is try a new restaurant. It's fun to be somewhere new and experiment with different menu choices. This little game backfired on me twice earlier this year.

The first time was when Andrew and I tried an Italian restaurant in Salt Lake City for our anniversary. It was the sort of place where the waiters drape white linen towels over their arms and suggest a delicious wine to accompany what they deem to be excellent lunch choices. Despite our being in Salt Lake City for lunch, our waiter seemed overly surprised at our decline of that wine choice to compliment our entrees. I guess most of the Mormons kept to the Olive Garden down the street. At any rate, when our lunches were brought to us, I watched Andrew's eyes roll back in his head as he moaned his pleasure over his seafood alfredo. (In complete honesty, if there is seafood alfredo on any menu in any restaurant, Andrew will order that. Every time.) I, unfortunately, was left to saw and hack at my chicken marsala, which was so overdone and dry that my steak knife was an unworthy match for it. And now you're going to wonder why I didn't send it back. And I'm going to pretend that it was because we were running late to pick up the kids from school/babysitter's, which would be partially true. But the real reason I didn't send it back was because I do not want to be that woman who looks down her nose at any fare placed in front of her and finds something wrong with it. Because I know that the first time I do that, the sous chef in the back will spit a loogey into my dish and cloak it with a savory brown sauce. But if ever there was a dish that was worthy of rejection, that anniversary lunch of mine was it.

Later that same month was my birthday, and my sister-in-law, Susie, was in town and insisted that Andrew take me out to dinner. I was so exhausted from shopping and what-not that day, that all I wanted to do was go to bed. Alone. But how could we turn down her generous offer of free babysitting? So off we went to Mimi's Cafe. Again, we were experimenting with a new restaurant, and this one happened to boast a southern type fare. It took about 11 hours for the waitress to bring our food, and when it arrived, I realized that the delay had been caused by my chicken cordon bleu, which apparently could not be considered cooked thoroughly until it had been in the oven long enough to heat every ounce of moisture from it, leaving it a brick of dehydrated poultry with a cracked layer of brittle cheese in the middle. Again, I didn't send it back because I was desperate to go home and go to bed. And if I had requested a replacement, we would likely still be there waiting for it.

But last Saturday I got the chance to turn my bad luck around. My sister, Kellie, and I took my mom out for her long over-due birthday date. (She turned thirty-nine back in June...) Mom likes all kinds of ethnic foods, so we decided to take her to the Kasbah Grill in Layton. They specialize in Indian and Mediterranean food. We were glad to have Dad come along because he wasn't allowed out of mom's sight in case he started twitching or forgot how to walk or something. But he's good company, so no complaints. I don't remember what we all ordered, because none of us knew how to pronounce anything on the menu. I believe Dad pointed to his choice, (which made me feel better about my incompetency because as well traveled as he is, I shouldn't have to know how to pronounce anything that he can't.) I ordered the chicken saag. It looked something like this:
Except without rice. It smelled wonderful, and initially tasted like some kind of rose perfume, but after settling on my tongue, tasted absolutely delectable. And spicy! It really was a very good dish, but six bites into it I couldn't taste anything at all anymore. Such a pity. Mom's dish, whatever it was, was slightly better than mine, and Kellie ordered some kind of chicken that came in the form of three giant, red-hot chicken legs. They were good, too. But the winner of best menu choice went to Dad with his selection of some kind of sandwich deal which was wrapped in a pita, but not a pita because Indian people call it something else. (Lay off, I have a bad memory.) It had a wonderful, fresh cucumber taste which revived my taste buds after their saag saga.

When dinner was over, we hit a Blockbuster Video. The experience was a little odd because I haven't been inside a Blockbuster Video in at least eight years. They had a small selection. But they did have the movie we were looking for - Terms of Endearment. Kellie had never seen it before. Shocking, how she can be such a film connoisseur and at the same time, never have experienced the brilliance that is Shirley Maclaine and Jack Nicholson. That has to be one of the best movies of all time.

Even though I spent the next day enduring a mild case of diarrhea that my chicken saag had bestowed upon me, I consider my bad ordering streak to be a thing of the past. It tasted good going down. And maybe every dinner tastes good when it's followed with an 80's classic film and enjoyed with good company.