A Meal to Remember

Andrew stared at the tablet in his hands, skimming through the items on the restaurant menu.

“A Jill Burger?” he squinted at it and then looked back up at his wife to see her reaction.

“In a place like this? It’s probably a typo. Forget about that now and choose something, I’m starving,” she swatted her hand in the air as if brushing away his comment. “Besides, you ought to eat healthier if you want to keep your cholesterol in check.”

Her eyes trailed up and down his body, pausing at his waistline to make a silent comment on his weight.

“How about a slab of Biff?” he chuckled. “I see what they’re trying to do.”

“You want steak?” she peered at him over her glasses. “I suppose that is marginally better than a burger.”

“Oh, there’s a Susan’s schnitzel,” he almost laughed, but the mirth died in his mouth at the withering glare his wife shot him.

“Yes. Hilarious,” she replied dryly. He sobered up.

“Well, who will you be eating tonight, dear?” he asked, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I can’t say I particularly fancy anything on this menu,” she stated blankly. “You really did a marvellous job of finding the strangest restaurant in town.”

Andrew glanced around, noting that the décor was a little… questionable . There was a pig’s skeleton on display at the very back of the room, and despite the fact that it had only opened a week ago, there was almost an entire wall full of names of people who had eaten there. At first Andrew thought it was a rather sweet incentive, but upon further inspection, he began to see the similarities in the handwriting on each little card. He shook his head and continued scanning the room, attributing this strange observation to the fact that he hadn’t eaten in a few hours. What really bothered him about the whole establishment was the choice of mustard yellow stucco for walls. They should have fired whoever they hired to design this place.

“Derek told me he took Gladys here last week and she absolutely adored the pasta dish she ordered. I can’t remember its name though,” Andrew tried to defend himself. But he knew, from decades of experience, that nothing he said could change Sarah’s mind. His wife was about as stubborn as whoever chose the colour of the walls. “Maybe when he gets back from his business trip, I’ll ask him about it.”

Ignoring his point, Sarah continued to scroll through the menu. “When was the last time you had your eyes checked?”

“A few months ago, why?” Andrew furrowed his brows.

“It’s called ‘Jeff’s Burger’, not a ‘Jill Burger’,” she shook her head and leaned over the table to point it out on his menu.

“I could have sworn it said ‘Jill’…” he mused. “Perhaps it’s time to go back to the doctor? I didn’t know that eyesight could worsen so quickly.”

Sarah didn’t respond. Instead, she flagged a waiter from across the room. Andrew watched the young man approach.

“Oh, but I haven’t decided what I would like to order!” he exclaimed, rushing to choose what dish appeared to be the most appetising.

“Well, you have one minute while I give mine.”

Andrew reread the entire menu as quickly as he could, trying to block out the idle chatter of the restaurant and whatever his wife was saying to the waiter.

“And for you, sir?” the man smiled patiently.

“Huh? Oh… a burger does sound nice, and I suppose one couldn’t hurt my health in the long run…” he looked to Sarah for her to interject, but she was busy skimming over the dessert menu. “So yes, I’ll have a Jeff’s Burger.”

“Fantastic choice, sir!” the man beamed as he made to leave. “Your food should be ready in the next ten minutes.”

“What did you order, dear?” Andrew reached out to hold his wife’s hand, just as she moved it to search for something in her purse.

“I chose a Caesar salad.”

To Andrew, that was a little plain. They had come all this way, out of their house, on a date for the first time in fifteen years, and of course she chose the most standard item on the menu. But who was he to judge her? He awkwardly pulled back his rejected hand and used it to smoothen some imaginary creases on his blazer.

He hummed in supposed approval. “What would you like to do after dinner?”

Sarah looked up at him, visibly irritated. He wasn’t really sure why, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask. He knew from years of experience that it would only end badly for him if he chose to start asking questions. She would probably scold him for not being ‘perceptive’ enough, or ‘ignoring her needs’. “I would like to go home and call Gladys to ask her what on earth she liked about this place.”

Andrew hung his head sheepishly. “It’s really not that bad. There are so many worse places to eat. The food must be great, I’m sure of it. Besides, if it was so horrible, why would so many people come here?” he once again attempted to defend his choice, gesturing to the wall of names of happy customers.

She hmphed and folded her arms, shaking the table as she began to tap her foot underneath. He scanned the room for the waiter, hoping their food wouldn’t take too long to arrive. The awkward silence was a pain, and these stupid little quarrels were one of the biggest reasons he didn’t take her out on dates anymore.

Just then, her phone rang, and she answered the call without ever looking at, let alone apologising to him. So, he just sat there and stared at the wood of the table, trying not to eavesdrop on her conversation. Instead, he focused on the wall of names. After a few minutes, he spotted a messily scrawled ‘Biff’ and smiled. So they named a dish after him? Maybe if he gave a big enough tip, they would put his name up on the wall, and perhaps even name a dish after him?

He began searching the wall for a ‘Jeff’, and to his glee, found Derek’s name on the wall. He would definitely have to call him up tomorrow. Maybe Derek had a dish named after him too?

But before he could re-evaluate the menu, he spotted the waiter coming out of the kitchen carrying a tray with their food and his mouth watered at the sight. The burger was probably the tallest thing he had ever seen, and beside it was a large bowl of some sort of salad – probably Caesar. As the waiter set the plates down, Sarah nodded and waved him off, continuing her phone conversation. Andrew wanted to say something, but he knew better than to interrupt her conversation, so he sat in silence and contemplated starting his meal.

When it became obvious Sarah wasn’t planning to end her conversation any time soon, he took a sip of water and picked up his burger. Taking a bite, he noted that it wasn’t as oily as he expected, but that it was actually a little dry. All in all, it was not a bad burger though. Sarah was slowly eating her salad, pausing in between leaves to guffaw at something her friend said. He was actually more than a little frustrated, but he still couldn’t think of anything to say.

Eventually, she wrapped up her phone call and cast him a look. “Barbara said Jenny’s daughter took her first step today.”

Andrew nodded.

Without another word, his wife continued her meal and he sat across from her, awkwardly fiddling with his napkin. How was he supposed to make a conversation with her if she so obviously didn’t want anything to do with him? How could he keep trying if all she did was tell him off, or glare at him, or comment on his health?

“How’s the food?” he asked lamely.

“It’s fine. Although they did cut the chicken too thickly for my liking.”

Again, he nodded. “Should I order dessert?”

She shook her head and took in a deep, irritated breath. “You need to watch what you eat.” She made a point to wrinkle her nose at one particular button on his shirt that was a little more strained than the others.

He sighed and pulled out his wallet, raising his hand to get the attention of the waiter. The young man nodded and disappeared behind the counter, presumably to get the bill.

Sarah finished her food and dabbed her lips on her napkin, leaving red lipstick stains on the white fabric. Andrew often wondered how they managed to get those out.

“I’ll just go freshen up and then we can leave.”

He nodded and she strode off towards the back of the restaurant, following the bathroom sign. The waiter arrived at the table.

“How was your food sir?”

“It was marvellous. Although I do wonder if you have dessert I could take home?” he mused.

“Of course, it’s on the menu,” the waiter smiled patiently. “I’ll bring back the new bill once you’re done deciding.”

Andrew turned on the tablet once again, scrolling through the menu all the way down to the dessert section.

Strawberry sundae, banana split, a scoop of ice cream – none of which he could take home. The next page had crepes, waffles and cakes. Perhaps it would be best to wait for Sarah to come back and then he could convince her to share something with him?

He mindlessly scrolled back up to the mains, considering what other dishes he would have liked to try. There were some pasta dishes that looked rather appetising, and roast lamb, and…

Sarah’s schnitzel.