The Rustic Gourmet Restaurant

“What kind of restaurant has menu items like Snapping Bisque, Green Long Fries, and Ess-Not Soup?” Jonathan Hogson pointed at his cell phone while looking at Ashley Fontaine, his fiancé. “They don’t give any description.”

“My parents picked the Rustic Gourmet restaurant because it’s their favorite. Los Angeles ranked fifth for its unique foods.” Ashley closed her eyes and held her arms at her side while spreading her hands near her face. “The food is so good it is… it is… memorable.”

“I won’t eat it until you tell me what it is.” Jonathan crossed his arms.

“If I tell you, do you promise to eat it?”

“No.”

“You’re meeting my parents and Logan, my little brother,” Ashley said louder. “Remember, they are footing the bill for everyone. The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night. How will you make a good impression on them,” she pointed a finger at Jonathan, “if you won’t eat with them? Do you want my family to think of you as a… as a… clodhopper?”

“I’m not a clodhopper just because my great-grandparents used to be farmers.” Jonathan closed his eyes and sighed. “All right… Tell me the truth. Is the food any good?”

“I’ve cooked gourmet recipes for you before. Do you remember the Crisp Roast Duck and Leg of Lamb with Garlic? Were you lying when you said you liked them?”

“I ate them, didn’t I? What more do you want?”

“I want you to say you like my cooking… at least the desserts.”

“I’ll admit the custard—”

“Crème Brulee.”

“And the other dessert—”

“Lemon Curd Marble Cheesecake.”

Jonathan nodded. “—weren’t too bad.”

“Are you going to trust me on this?” Ashley pouted.

Jonathan gave a sigh of resignation. “If you say it’s good, I’ll try it.”

“Even without knowing what it is?”

“Yes.”

***

           The waiter of the Rustic Gourmet Restaurant led the six members of the rehearsal dinner party to a reserved table.

“I am August Traver,” said the waiter. “I’ll be your waiter tonight and take your order for drinks and be right back.” The waiter did not hand out menus before leaving.

           “I’m so glad, Mrs. Hogson, that you agreed to eat here,” said Mrs. Fontaine. “It is by far our favorite restaurant.”

           “I’ve never been to Los Angeles. I wouldn’t know how to pick a restaurant. My son said—"

           The waiter returned and set down water and drinks. “The Snapping Bisque is especially good today,” said Mr. Traver, “if I may recommend it. Mrs. Fontaine, would you like to order for everyone?”

           “No. We’ll each order. Will the meal include Potato Bread for everyone?”

           “Yes, Mrs. Fontaine.”

           At least potato bread sounds like familiar ingredients, thought Jonathan. I can fill up on it.

           “Will Mr. Fontaine be arriving later?” asked the waiter.

           “No. He had to make a business trip,” she looked at Mr. and Mrs. Hogson, “but he’ll be here tomorrow.”

           “Very good,” said the waiter.

           Turning to Logan, her ten-year-old son, Mrs. Fontaine, asked, “Do you want Green Long Fries again?”

           “I don’t want frog legs. I don’t like them.”

           “Frog legs?!” I don’t blame him. Jonathan marveled anyone would eat that. Jonathan rubbed his forehead and muttered, “What have I agreed to?”

           “What do you want?” continued Mrs. Fontaine to Logan.

           “I want the ground hog stew,” said Logan.

           Mrs. Fontaine spoke to the waiter. “He will have the Hidden Ragout.”

           Jonathan started breathing harder.

           Mrs. Fontaine invited the Hogson couple to order.

“By chance, are the Green Long Fries deep fat fried?” asked Jonathan’s father.

           “Yes, sir,” the waiter said.

           “I’ll take the Green Long Fries and the combo of GPR and Multiplier,” said Mr. Hogson.

           How could you, Father!

           “I’d like the Snapping Bisque, if it is supposed to be so good,” said Mrs. Hogson.

           “Ashley, will you order for me?” asked Jonathan.

Ashley said, “Give Jonathan Ess-Not Soup and Scents of Caesar Salad. I’ll have the same.”

Jonathan’s soup came first. It looks like scum off a pond. Ess-Not must stand for snot. What’s the red? Oh, it’s tomatoes. Something normal. He took a small sip.

“How do you like the soup? It’s okra and tomatoes,” said Ashley.

Jonathan searched for an acceptable answer. “Smooth texture.”

Mrs. Hogson said, “This bisque is very good. Is it made with snapping turtle?”

Jonathan swallowed hard and put down his spoon.

Mrs. Fontaine asked, “How did you know?”

“My great-grandparents,” said Mrs. Hogson, “lived through the Great Depression. They ate off the land. She taught my grandmother how to fry snapping turtle. I never learned the secret. When I tried to fry it, the three bones in the leg—with the one sticking up—made me keep turning it. But hers tasted good. Tasted just like chicken.”

Maybe my parents are clodhoppers, thought Jonathan.

“Oh, how interesting!” said Mrs. Fontaine. “I’ve been reading about that era. I’d like to hear more. What else do you know about your great-grandparents?”

“My great-grandmother’s diary is entered in my computer.” Mrs. Hogson seemed pleased with the interest. “I’ll email the file to you.”

“Wonderful!”

“Father,” said Jonathan. I bet he knows what this all is, besides the frog legs. “What did you order?”

“I figured,” said Mr. Hogson, “Multiplier referred to wild rabbit. And maybe GPR was squirrel. GPR could stand for good public relations. Squirrels sure have that.”

Jonathan swallowed hard with his stomach involved. He peered under a lettuce leaf of the Scented Caesar Salad. He sniffed it. The herbs made it smell good.

Ashley spotted his reluctance. “Go ahead and try it, Jonathan.”

Jonathan took a bite. He breathed easier. It didn’t taste bad. He continued inspecting each piece of meat before taking a bite. Will I find three bones?

Ashley smiled. “Jon, you look like you are enjoying it.”

“It’s better than I thought it would be.”

“I’m not surprised they don’t have possum on the menu,” said Mr. Hogson. “That meat is just plain greasy. Skunks are much cleaner than possums.”

Jonathan stopped eating. Looking at Ashley, he asked, “Is this,” he paused, “possum?”

“Oh no,” said Ashley. “It’s skunk.”

Jonathan rushed from the table to the bathroom, slightly bent over and holding his hand over his mouth.

Ashley’s mouth gaped open a little as she watched Jonathan run. She looked down at her remaining food and picked at it. Suddenly, she left her seat and hurried to the bathrooms.

Jonathan came out of the restroom with a pale face while breathing heavily.

“I never thought the food would bother you that much.” Ashley began to cry. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Jonathan took her in his arms. “I forgive you. I just wasn’t expecting… expecting what it was.”

She scrutinized his face. “Do you love me? Or is the,” her tears increased, “wedding off?”

“I love you too much to stop the wedding,” said Jonathan. “We’ll be married at this time tomorrow. We’ll probably argue through our marriage. But we can stop a lot of arguing if you never feed me your family’s favorites again.