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Writing Restaurant Menus:
An exercise in the fine art of obfuscatory bamboozlement *Disclaimer: this column is in the "Just For Fun" section. That means it's satire! Today’s special: les
spuds julienne, “hand-battered” to perfection By Pete Moore A
writer by profession, I take pride in my ability to craft and hone limitless
volumes of unintelligible text. If you, too, dream of pursuing literary or
journalistic immortality, read on. I have some career advice that’s sure to be
among the most recent you’ve received. No doubt
you’ve considered — and wisely abandoned — the idea of writing the Next
Great American Novel and/or Screenplay. I say “wisely” because scientific
studies have shown that writing the Next Great American Novel and/or Screenplay
is, to use technical jargon, too much darn work. Fortunately,
there are other, more realistic ways to enter the field of professional
wordsmithing — and one “niche” area in particular that could use some new
blood. I’m talking, of course, about writing restaurant menus. Most people
take menus for granted, but somebody’s gotta write ’em. And it’s not as
easy as it sounds. That’s why
the National Restaurant Association (“The Other NRA”) provides its members
with strategic menu advice, including magazine articles like “The hamburger
holds its ground” and “Mushrooms are showing up on menus” (possible
solution: don’t store menus in a dark, damp place). The amount of time and
effort this industry trade group devotes to menus may seem excessive, but such
narrow focus ultimately points to a larger truth: somebody’s always out to
make a buck. The question is, how
can you horn in on the action? I suggest starting with the restaurant
listings that begin on page 1,173 of your local Yellow Pages. You probably think
99.9% of these establishments wouldn’t even give you the time of day, but the
percentage is actually much higher. So start small — maybe write an appetizer
“on spec,” but don’t get cocky and try to submit a full-blown entrée your
first time out. When it comes to the
writing itself, choose your words with precision. There’s nothing like vivid,
descriptive language to tickle hungry customers’ mental taste buds — indeed,
to stir all their senses and evoke a deep, total-body awareness of the
extent to which they’re being overcharged for mediocre slop. The key is to sprinkle
your prose with just the right amount of too many adjectives, verbs and adverbs
that convey how lovingly and painstakingly the food was prepared.
Thus, all meat (and
meat byproducts) should not only be grilled, broiled, roasted, etc., but
grilled, broiled, roasted, etc. “to perfection.” Exception: Nothing is ever
“fried” to perfection. Better yet, avoid using “fried” altogether. And
if something is, in fact, fried? “Then you can say
that it’s hand-battered,” advises world-famous restaurant consultant Isidore
Kharasch (Restaurant USA magazine,
August 2000). “That way you’ve told the customers the item is fried, without
telling them the item is fried.” Likewise, all
vegetables must be “garden-fresh” and served in a “medley.” Caveat:
“Garden-fresh” may not apply to down-home Southern cooking, in which a
“vegetable” plate can hold anything from macaroni & cheese to banana
pudding. Another tip: Use
vaguely esoteric terms not typically associated with food, like “nestled,”
“timbale” and “jerk.” This technique allows you to offer mouth-watering
selections such as “honey-lime jerk shrimp nestled on a timbale of cous-cous.”
(And all this time you thought a “timbale” was what percussionist José
“Chepito” Areas played on the first Santana album.) Finally, regardless of
the type of restaurant, throw in a few French words. Because Tour Penchée de
Boeuf et Cuite au Four Moitié de Pomme de Terre has a lot more panache than
“Leaning Tower of Beef and Half-Baked Potato.” Plus, it sets the stage for
this tantalizing description: “Oak-seared, razor-thin calliopes of
dry-aged beef au poivre, mired in our classic garden-fresh artichoke jus
and nestled to perfection on a timbale of les spuds julienne. Our
tallest entrée.” Best of all, you need
not limit your high-falutin lingo to so-called haute (“hot”) cuisine.
Indeed, you can dip into the same semantic bag of tricks when waxing poetic
about even the most humble pedestrian fare. Example —
Wrong: “Grilled cheese sandwich. Side of fries.” Right: “Quel du sable
grillé à fromage. Hand-carved, aged domestic and imported cheeses,
nestled between twin squares of our finest hearth-baked four-grain bread,
lightly dredged in our herb-seasoned butter du jour, then grilled to
perfection and garnished with a medley of crisp objets du lettuce. Side
of fries.” So there you have it,
aspiring auteurs. I guarantee that my
helpful hints — together with your time, dedication and perseverance — will
ensure your financial future through continuous professional employment. In your day job.
Freelance columnist Pete
Moore lives in Charlotte, N.C., where, in addition to writing columns, he holds
a day job as a boring corporate writer (guess which one pays the bills?). A
regular contributor to The Charlotte Observer, he has also written opinion
pieces for the Los Angeles Times, the Wichita Eagle, the Arkansas
Democrat-Gazette and several North Carolina weekly and daily papers. His radio
commentaries have been featured on WFAE 90.7 FM, the Charlotte affiliate of
National Public Radio. Pete is a member of the National Society of Newspaper
Columnists. E-mail him at number9writer@yahoo.com.
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