April 6, 2011

The Fried Pig Belly Sandwich

My wife is trying to train me to share restaurant food with her. She wants us to start splitting everything, apparently in some sort of fairytale effort to make me eat less, save money, shed cholesterol, and learn about the widespread benefits of sharing in general.

She formally proposed the idea about three weeks back. “Honey,” she said while looking over the menu. “Let’s split a salad, an app, and an entrée?” Then she got all excited, like it was the best idea she ever had: “Yep! That’s the plan. Every time we go out!”

At first, per usual, I thought she was out of her mind, and told her so. Splitting meals? What kind of a man splits a meal? Not a proud American man like myself.

I ordered a steak. And I ate the fat.

Obviously, that wouldn’t be the last time we talked Sharing. Oh no, it’s in her head now. But she’s wizened up since that first attempt. She’s refined her strategy. She’s put those other sharing benefits on the backburner and placed all her guilt-laden emphasis on the one sharing virtue I can readily buy into: saving money.

Saving money is stellar, I’m naturally cheap. But in AdPock’s World, saving money shouldn’t come at the cost of keeping the restaurant dining experience special. No, if dining-out ceases to remain special, then I will have become spoiled. And I want very badly to remain fresh.

So when I’m out, I like to order special food. Out food. And I like to not think about anything unspecial, like cholesterol. Since my wife knows I remain steadfast on this point, and since she really wants us to Share, she’s temporarily giving up trying to get me to give up ordering rich food and has merely focused on the money saving benefits.

Or at least that’s how she pitched it last night when we went out to eat. Being an open-minded guy, I agreed to give her sharing idea a try, with one bona fide caveat. “I’ll share,” I said, “if you let me order whatever fatty dishes my saintly heart desires.”

Which she happily and readily agreed to. And as the meal went on, I realized that sharing’s great! Instead of just one dish, I get three! I get to try more savory tastes and get all the choice bites and mmm… warm spinach salad with bacon… mmm… mac n’ cheese with chorizo… mmmm… fried pig belly sandwich… mmm.

And all of it was delicious. I had shared. And it was good.

But of course, she hated it. All the food was far too rich for her dainty stomach. It ruined her meal. Which subsequently ruined mine!

Me trying to make her happy, by sharing, and her trying to make me happy, by letting me order what I wanted, made neither one of us happy. 

I'm not sure what that says about happiness, or about sharing in general, but hot damn that pig belly sandwich was good!