Thursday, May 17, 2007

Year 3, Day 78: Norwood Disapoints

We have been very lucky at chowhound in terms of picking restaurants for date night. Special places were discovered in Dedham (Isabella's) and Westwood (Chiara Bistro) so I guess I started to feel like I could do no wrong. Well, every web surfer gets his comeuppance and I got mine by driving to the dilapidated strip mall that is also called Norwood. To my dismay, the restaurant was located IN a Sheraton hotel. Now in the restaurant's Web site, it says it is located "BY" the Sheraton. I realize I can be faulted for improperly interpreting this, but it does not say "IN." Heart sinking, we soldiered on and were rewarded with a totally MOR dinner. Why I ordered black-and-blue Tuna at a hotel restaurant Norwood may be a question I find I am asking myself on my deathbed. All in all, it wasn't a disaster, but I would not qualify it as "special" or "deserving a return trip."

Breakfast
Kashi Go Lean!
Heritage Flakes
Strawberries
Blueberries
Banana
Unsweetened Soy Milk
Coffee

Lunch: Chang Shun Yuan
Beef with Celery
Chun King Pork

Snack
1 Cameo Apple
1 oz Boston Lite Popcorn
2 Sticks Beef Jerky

Dinner: One Bistro
Caesar Salad (no croutons)
Black and Blue Tuna
Bok Choy
2-3 Pieces Cranberry Nut Bread with Hummus

More and more, restaurants are serving their cold or room temperature bread with various kinds of fats, ranging from straight oils to more complicated hummus-type mixtures. From an enjoyment perspective, I support all of that. From a nutritional perspective, it's pretty lousy to serve white bread with butter before the meal. The problem with the bread appetizer is not only that it's bread; that it's served with fat; but that you eat it as if it's something that doesn't count. It's 'designed' to be mindless eating. Not only do you not "count" it, but you'll generally eat it because when you arrive at the restaurant, you're hungry. Worse, you'll eat it till it's gone (unless it's really bad). Feeling the bread's temperature has been a new (10 years) thing for me, picked up from Emily's father, who would always hand-gauge the bread before deciding whether to eat it or not. Very often, he was heard to ask the waiter to 'crisp up' the bread for him in the oven. Though Emily and I would often hide under the napkin during this order, we did nearly always take part in the bounty of the request's fulfillment.