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How often do you send back a meal?
I had a conversation with Ronnie yesterday after we played golf. I mentioned that my wife and I were going out to dinner with mutual friends that Ronnie knows well. I said that my one concern was that they were the pickiest eaters I have ever known and that we had never gone to a restaurant with them when at least one of them, if not both, sent their meal back because it was not cooked to their expectations. That absolutely drives me crazy! I have sent a meal back twice in my life, both times when it was horribly wrong; so wrong that I asked the server to have the restaurant manager and chef taste it to try to learn why it was so bad. I refused in both instances to substitute a different item because my wife already had her food, and the evening was already ruined. McDonald’s is always open. Ronnie agreed with me and began to tell me stories about his current, long-time girlfriend who rarely goes to a restaurant without pitching a fit about everything. She was once a movie star back when movies made stars. I could have pointed out to Ronnie the many times that he and Karen had us over for dinner and everything was over-cooked, and yet I didn’t ask for a new meal. I think he knew.
I know that there are multiple sides to any situation, but I wonder what you think about this.
Published in General
I once sent a lobster souffle back because it smelled of ammonia. That ammonia smell meant the lobster meat had gone bad.
I think I switched to a burger or something. After that I avoided that restaurant.
I have a vague memory of doing it once, maybe 20-30 years ago. Maybe because something was cool that should have been hot. And once at a Hardee’s I asked for a new burger because the bun was utterly stale and dried out.
Several years ago, my wife and I used to go out with an older couple from time to time. The guy was easy-going, but the woman had a complaint for just about every restaurant she’d ever been to. I don’t miss them.
I may have sent a meal back, but I can’t remember when. But my favorite aunt and uncle (who have both passed away) drove me nuts. Especially my aunt. She was never happy with her meal. Ever. We stopped going out with them, and invited them over to our house for dinner. That seemed to solve the problem!
Only when a steak was overdone or eggs were runny. Maybe 2-3 times a decade, if I do return to the establishment it is to order something simpler.
If I went back I’d do the same thing. I’d try to think of a meal simpler than eggs, and if I came up with one, then I’d order that.
[EDIT:] I just thought of one: hot tea. With the teabag on the side, which makes it simpler.
In my case, it’s when a steak is underdone, and it has to be seriously so. I think I’ve only done it once. But it turned out the server had thought I said “medium rare” rather than “medium well.” Usually I order a steak well done, but at that chain, that means charcoal, so I dial it back. Asking for “medium well” gets a well-done steak. But not when the server mishears. I’ll take the charcoal over the still-mooing cow.
I can’t think of any other instances where I have sent anything back.
Maybe, but I suspect you knew that she only held her criticism with you to be polite. That is sort of what I think about this. I like to be polite in every situation possible because politeness matters. It is the grease that makes everything palatable and enjoyable. Maybe it makes me a wimp but I prefer getting along with people. So I ignore the aspects of their behavior that are annoying. Why are we more polite with friends we love than we are with strangers who are trying to make us happy?
You may be right, but I knew her tastes and how she liked her food (hot!) I agree, politeness is important. I think what bothered me in the restaurant when she sent her food back was how agitated she became. If she did it without anger, I could probably handle it. But it was usually as if she took it personally. Not pleasant.
Well, I have the same opinion as you, as always, Southern Pessimist.
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I’ve got to get run right now, we’re doing a choral concert, and there are only two of us who can hit the B-natural 1 at the end of Dolly Parton’s Clear Blue Morning, which I consider the most import note in the song, if not the whole concert, or even the whole choral repertoire.
So I only had time to read that one sentence, where you asked for what we think about this, at the very end, sorry.
After the show, I will try to remember to read your entire article, and if I disagree with you after seeing what the situation is that we are talking about, I will let everyone know.
I always order my steak rare but mention that I want the outside seared a little bit. I don’t particularly like raw beef but even if it is quite rare I eat around the edges and know that the remainder is going to be very good when I reheat it in the microwave tomorrow.
The unpardonable sin. I do not get steak out much, but the boss thinks Texas Roadhouse is “fun” and the food’s pretty good.
After one big miss there, I now politely inform the server ahead of time that medium rare means just that and “return to sender” is in my vocabulary. Works.
Hey, @markcamp, remember to read this whole article.
Not often enough, and once was at a Bobby Flay restaurant. I say not often enough because we went out a couple of weeks ago to an excellent restaurant that served my medium-rare order very rare and the beef, well it didn’t have much shelf life left. I kept waiting for it to taste better, and my dining companions kept waiting for me to run for the restroom. No sickness, just a bad dish.
When it’s a restaurant you expect to be good, it’s almost more difficult because you wonder if it’s you that has it wrong. That’s probably not the case and you should expect more when you pay more.
Whoa! I love that. It took me a long time to quit asking upscale establishments if they had ketchup. They do not like that question. It seems to me that most upscale restaurants don’t like any questions.
Ran across it the other day, and given how I like my steak, I got a kick out of it. It seems everyone wants to tell me how I should like my steak.
As for ketchup, maybe mushroom ketchup. ;^D
I can’t remember the last time I sent back a meal. Should have done so with an under ripe tomato in a chicken salad plate last month but said what the hey and ate around it. No sense getting wigged out about a mere piece of tomato.
Gosh, I can only wonder at how old that bun must be!!
I can’t eat wheat. So when we eat at Carl Jr’s and I forget to do a wrap rather than a standard bun, I simply bring the bun home.
California has little rain from early May to mid-October. One time the bun I left out for the birds looked and felt amazingly fresh after 45 days spent outside. (I can’t imagine what amount of preservatives that bun must have had.)
No honor guard of poisoned birds in evidence? RFK Jr has me looking cross-eyed at everything.
I have never sent an item back and I never will. I try to be thankful for every meal that is prepared for me. If I am out to eat with some other folks and they something back, I am unlikely to eat with them again. I don’t have time in life for people that are not thankful for what they get.
Just once, with a pork dish which arrived bloody. It went back to the kitchen; it came back still bloody. I forfeited this meal, or maybe the restaurant did. In either case, McDonald’s was around the corner.
Years ago a friend and I took a couple of Ladies to a high end steak house. The meals were served.
Waiter: Is there anything else I could get for Y’all?
Friend: May I have A-1, please?
Waiter: I’ll be right back.
Waiter returned with the chef and pointed Him out.
Chef (looking right at Friend): Is there something wrong with Yer meal?
Friend (cuts steak, takes a bite, chews, chews, chews, swallows, taps His lips with the cloth napkin): No, sir. It’s delicious.
Chef: I thought so. Thank You.
Can’t remember ever sending a meal back, but I reminder a white coffee mug that had lipstick on it. Traded that in right away.
I don’t think I’ve ever sent anything back. We had a neighbor (RIP) who always complained about something in his meal.
And my wife’s boss would often take out her staff for lunch, and she (the boss) always sent something back. My wife stopped going.
The bun remained intact. The birds did not touch it. Neither did raccoons, possums, skunks or ants. Over those 45 days, had the ants wanted it, it might have been a shell of its former self.
I’ve been looking at RFK Jr with crossed eyes, wondering when he will take on an important task. And this week, it is announced that no longer will the CDC recommend the COV vaxxes! (I’m not sure if it is with reference to age group guidelines or in general. It makes no sense to rec ’em to anyone under the age of 30, as there can be no “risk to benefit” fulfillment if there is no benefit.)
I have to admit that I have been guilty in the past of telling folks how they should like their steak. I did it with an elderly aunt that proceeded to let me know how discourteous I was being and that she didn’t need a teenager telling her how to eat a steak. She was right and I deserved the public rebuke and embarrassment that followed. It is a lesson that I have also had to learn on some other subjects such as music.
Only once, I think. An inedible, rubbery, fish sandwich. I asked for a do over, and the second one was just as bad. We left and never went back.
I stayed in KC once at a downtown hotel that had a world-renowned steakhouse where I routinely enjoyed the 22 oz porterhouse. My first visit, the waitress asked what steak sauce I preferred (a common experience in the mid-west). I explained that I actually very much love a well-prepared piece of meat and would never dream of using steak sauce. No one there ever asked me that again. Stroud’s was much the same experience for fried chicken. The week of my last trip they permanently closed the cattle yards as my plane took off. I was touched.
I am the guy who wants his meat mooing, squealing, clucking, or (whatever sound fish make?)
Steak tartar, sashimi, rare burgers, pink pork, juicy pink chicken. I have a cast iron stomach, and have eaten every street food I have encountered in every country and continent. (When traveling I would bring ciproflaxen – just in case of food poisoning, it worked within a couple of minutes after symptoms)
That stated, I almost never return a meal. I have recently shown a scorched earth burger to my server who promised a rare burger, and refused a replacement, and still tipped her well – she listened! (Got a free beer too…) But the following weeks when I returned, and ordered my rare burgers with the same waitress, I received a bloody wonderful burger (with extra jalapenos too!)
He needs all of his ducks in a row on every step. Congress wants his scalp, Big Agra wants his scalp, Big Pharma wants his scalp, he needs his findings queued up and justified to within an inch of his life. I did like when he addressed the food industry and explained that, even though they may personally be very fond of petroleum products in their food, they would have to sprinkle them in themselves in the future. He’s only been in since 2/13 and there is a lot of hiring and firing also going on.