Fit to be Thai'd

My Parental Unit came over today for a Nice Visit. After their arrival, announced by Dad intoning, "Someone could trip over that!" they made themselves at home. Dad spent 25 minutes in the bathroom, during which time Mom pawed through all of my belongings--I hid my wine, condoms, vibrator, and Obama cap, but forgot about the potato chips, and they were the most controversial--all those trans fats!

We went to Thai Town for lunch. Oddly enough, for people who think that salt and pepper is "too spicy" and lasagna is "ethnic food," both of my parents like Thai! Dad always gets sweet-n-sour pork, so he might as well be eating in a Chinese restaurant. Which may account for the fact that he all of a sudden bellowed, "ARE THEY TALKING CHINESE?" "Um...no, Dad...that would be Thai..." "IT SOUNDS LIKE CHINESE! HOW DO YOU KNOW THEY'RE NOT TALKING CHINESE!" "Um...because they work here and they're wearing freakin' Thai Town aprons?"

Across from us there was another Adult Child of Parents. He was suffering through a litany of all the foods his parents consumed on a cruise ship which Did Not Agree With Them. At one point, we grinned in solidarity and cast rolled eyeballs at our respective Parental Units. We could've traded tables and our Parental Units probably wouldn't have noticed, and we wouldn't have improved our individual situations any.

At least this wasn't like the last time I had lunch with my parents, when Dad announced out of the blue that "Your mother and I haven't had intercourse in several years...."

And I wonder why I'm a social misfit???

Tapas, the little dishes of Spain

Last night my Entire Family, meaning not just me and my parents, but additionally my sister and her husband, went out for dinner. We went to Emilio's Tapas Bar in Hillside. My sister and brother-in-law are in town this week--they live in Texas in a small town named Seguin, home of the World's Second Largest Cement Depiction of a Pecan. Another town nearby built a bigger cement pecan, a huge blow to Seguin's civic pride.

But I digress...going out to dinner with my parents is usually an exercise in saintly patience, as I grit my teeth through all sorts of circular conversations with my mother while my dad sits and munches things he shouldn't have because of the Heart Attack Two Years Ago. Therefore, it was such a pleasant surprise to actually sit down with everyone and have a wonderful time at a restaurant! Unheard of!

Tapas are the little dishes of Spain, as the menu helpfully described. Back in the old days in the old country, one enjoyed a glass of manzanilla, Spain's famous sherry. But one wouldn't want flies in one's manzanilla (not italicized this time because you're familiar with the word now...) so a little plate would guard the sherry. Some brilliant Spaniard decided, "Why you put plate on glass to stop flies if plate could have little food on it?" And thus tapas was born!

We had the chickpea puree with breadstick slivers, hot goat cheese in tomato sauce, dates wrapped in bacon, a mini beef tenderloin with roasted veggies, salmon crepe, potato salad made with aioli (the famous Spanish garlic mayonnaise, and for which Spain should win some sort of Nobel Prize, something...) grilled portobello mushrooms with manchego cheese, and all sorts of other little delights. It was fun to pass the little plates around and sample everything, and everyone had a Good Time, even my mother, who didn't complain about a single food item as being Too Flavorful (though it was, ironically...Mom doesn't usually like Flavors in her food.) Dad, who didnt' say much as usual, enthusiastically declared at the end of the evening, "That was fun." The biggest honor was when Mom and Dad said they would go back again, an honor usually reserved for family restaurants. So a good time was had by all!