Swamped by choices?
Turn control over to someone else.

Part of the reward—or penalty—of being editor of a foodservice and restaurant industry publication is the constant trickle of requests from friends asking, “Where’s a good place to eat?”

My response is immediate and automatic: “What area, what kind of cuisine, and how much money do you want to part with?”

Recently, a friend responded to my jaded query with, “I don’t know. Whatever.”

Whatever.

Fortunately this exchange occurred across cyberspace, so any vitriolic response would be tempered by the time it took to type it out in e-mail and avoid any red flags raised by any company Internet monitoring service and the Department of Homeland Security. I turned my response into an exercise, dividing restaurants into west and east Metro area compartments, cuisine and price point. Within a half-hour I typed out 41 names (no chains)—mostly recommendations with a few to avoid—and fired them off. “Wow,” responded my friend.

Yeah. Wow. There are a lot of choices now. Too many to grasp. Most of them decent, many very good, and a few extraordinary. I’m lucky to have experienced some from each category.

I’m not sure I know how to describe my dining habits of late. One thing for sure is I haven’t gone out as much recently, in part because I’m feeling that peculiar economic pinch suffered by many members of the middle class while the stock markets climb to record highs (Yes, the trickle down/supply side economic theory is working as well as it ever has). Also, what I haven’t been in the mood for lately is choices—which doesn’t equate with a desire to eat safely, however. Call this syndrome fatigue or laziness, but that’s how it’s been, folks, and it’s impacted my cooking at home, and choosing a restaurant when I do decide to part with a portion of my paycheck. It would be great to have the bankroll to swagger into the top restaurants in town, and ask the chef to surprise you with whatever they decide to send out.

To me, immersion is, while maybe not the best, certainly an effective way to learn. I got a taste of it growing up in Montreal—learn French or flunk third grade, and every grade thereafter.

So, take dining and cooking. Well, more specifically dining, since cooking at home allows one to more easily take the safe road. Yes, dining out is the way to really do some immersion education (case in point: how many of us tried sweetbreads before being told what they are? Huh?).

Recently a co-worker and I found a place to do some immersion dining, but on the cheap: The Bombay Deli on Central Avenue in Minneapolis. I’m not sure if this co-worker knew it was a vegetarian restaurant before we walked in the door, or if he just didn’t tell me, given my marginal interest to visit another vegetarian Indian restaurant in the area (nothing against vegetarian restaurants, but when you’re an omnivore and starving, a bit of meat is part of the platter).

In the door we walked, looked to the menu on the wall, and understood none of it. This comforted me. My co-worker and I were at the cook’s mercy, who worked the counter. We asked questions. The cook explained cheerfully, and asked about what flavors we liked. For my co-worker, any attempt to induce organ failure through hot spices is welcomed. Me, I like the heat, but not at the expense of other flavors. “Do you like yogurt?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you like…”

The list went on, and she tossed together a plate of something that looked and smelled delicious. I have no idea what it was called, or really what was in it. But I ate it heartily, with a samosa. Still hungry, she suggested I try their potato dumplings, and another dumpling type of thing filled with a variety of peas and spices. Good stuff. We were educated on the varieties of curries, and other Indian spice mixtures. There was much new information relayed to two people who thought they’re somewhat versed in cooking. We also learned her family ran the market next door for 25 years, and the deli opened three months ago.

There are interesting ways to throw yourself out of a rut, particularly if you can trust another person enough to help with the toss. That’s something a restaurant has a unique opportunity to do. There’s a few factors that go into this, of course, namely a ready kitchen staff that produces consistent product and servers smart and personable enough to detect a customer’s hesitation and suggest something from the menu without sounding like a car lot salesperson.

So, back to my friend who asked about where to go eat. Where did they end up? I have no idea. No reports back at press time. Fortunately, there was a group involved, and my friend didn’t have to worry about the check—and cost was not an issue. When it’s a situation like that, there’s only one option: Don’t be safe. If you’re sitting at the fine dining joint, don’t go for the ubiquitous ahi tuna appetizer; try those sweetbreads. At the family run Mexican restaurant, skip the carnitas tacos just once and get that whole baked tilapia, and ask a few questions about it. Opportunities for immersion education don’t come along very often—and compared with the cost of tuition for a few cultural studies classes, a meal out seems pretty cheap.