Since childhood, I’ve had an almost
religious attraction to good restaurants, but now in my late 50s I’m speaking out against some of them and a form of dining that began to proliferate across the US about ten years ago. The restaurant concept is called, “
small plates” and a small plates dinner in this case, is a misnomer. It's more like gastronomic chess. Here's a typical small plates experience....
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| Small plates photo -- Wikipedia |
After eyeing a group of baby plates spewed
across a table that's invariably too small to accommodate all of them, I’m drawn to some culinary gems far more than others. Now -- how much of the great stuff shall I eat? I want to be mindful of my fellow diners. Do I fill up on marginal stuff? Wait, did she order those marinated artichokes as her primary dish? How many small plates shall we order next -- one, two, or ten? By the way, who voted for which plate? Are you going to finish those artichokes?
I hear a sharp rebuke coming from a Small Plate devotee, “Just order more small plates that you like and don't sweat the rest!” No, thank you. I’ll go elsewhere and enjoy my entree in an adult-plate-size. Why complicate this experience with an unassigned barrage of appetizers?
