In search of bliss (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sat_chit_anand) wrote,@ 2004-08-16 14:00:00 |
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Italian in the US
This is the second time I am writing this since my office comp ditched me just when I had finished all of it and was all set to post it. Anyways its early afternoon after a satisfying lunch and moderate work load (which I have realized in my 2 years is a rarity worth enjoying). So getting along with my experience of dining out last nite, we went to a local Olive Garden for dinner on a rainy evening. I have often wondered about how foreign food in any country gets completely twisted to suit the local palate and the patrons hardly realizing that what they refer to as an 'international dining experience' can be just a name sake. Remember the Chinese food in India ? Any Chinese who tries it will declare a war on India. Any way so we ordered an appetizer to start with. 'Spinach - Artichoke Dip with Tuscany Bread' really surprised me. I dont know much about Tuscany and far less about breads native to that place - however this seemed like Pillsbury bread dough smothered with Poppy and Sesame seeds. As for the dip it was cheese and more cheese with spinach (which wasnt fresh) and herbs (which I think was mostly basil). That reminds me of an Italian student at Tech who used to curse every Italian restraunt in the US. He wouldnt ever go to one. Moving forward to the entree - "Ravioli stuffed with Mushrooms in XYZ sauce". This had to have half the cheese in Wisconsin in its sauce. As we gobbled this I felt something anchoring my stomach to a heavy boulder. They say an army marches on its stomach. Well this time around my stomach felt like being walked over by the army. To top it all I bravely ordered a dessert - "White Chocolate Cheese Cake with Raspberry Flavor". If there is one thing which is sweeter than this well decorated fare than it could be only sugar itself. By the time I reached home I was trying to keep my eyelids open. So what made me go for this stuff, knowing well from my past experience that it is going to turn into nothing but an assault of cheese, sugar and more sugar and more cheese with pasta. Such experiences make me savour the humble daal, chawal and lemon pickle ever so more. As for Italian, my next one is going to be in a small cafe somewhere in Tuscany, if I ever make it there.
This is the second time I am writing this since my office comp ditched me just when I had finished all of it and was all set to post it. Anyways its early afternoon after a satisfying lunch and moderate work load (which I have realized in my 2 years is a rarity worth enjoying). So getting along with my experience of dining out last nite, we went to a local Olive Garden for dinner on a rainy evening. I have often wondered about how foreign food in any country gets completely twisted to suit the local palate and the patrons hardly realizing that what they refer to as an 'international dining experience' can be just a name sake. Remember the Chinese food in India ? Any Chinese who tries it will declare a war on India. Any way so we ordered an appetizer to start with. 'Spinach - Artichoke Dip with Tuscany Bread' really surprised me. I dont know much about Tuscany and far less about breads native to that place - however this seemed like Pillsbury bread dough smothered with Poppy and Sesame seeds. As for the dip it was cheese and more cheese with spinach (which wasnt fresh) and herbs (which I think was mostly basil). That reminds me of an Italian student at Tech who used to curse every Italian restraunt in the US. He wouldnt ever go to one. Moving forward to the entree - "Ravioli stuffed with Mushrooms in XYZ sauce". This had to have half the cheese in Wisconsin in its sauce. As we gobbled this I felt something anchoring my stomach to a heavy boulder. They say an army marches on its stomach. Well this time around my stomach felt like being walked over by the army. To top it all I bravely ordered a dessert - "White Chocolate Cheese Cake with Raspberry Flavor". If there is one thing which is sweeter than this well decorated fare than it could be only sugar itself. By the time I reached home I was trying to keep my eyelids open. So what made me go for this stuff, knowing well from my past experience that it is going to turn into nothing but an assault of cheese, sugar and more sugar and more cheese with pasta. Such experiences make me savour the humble daal, chawal and lemon pickle ever so more. As for Italian, my next one is going to be in a small cafe somewhere in Tuscany, if I ever make it there.
