There was a long stretch of time when my favorite activity was to go out to eat. A restaurant, especially a new one, with a hard-to-get table was my top choice for weekend plans. This was before every place offered takeout, and we could have anything and everything at home. Before food delivery and online ordering and curbside pickup.
This was also long before my favorite weekend plans became canceled weekend plans.
In our early 20’s, my husband was eligible to win quarterly sales contests at work. The prize was a $100 dinner. I’m proud to say he won quite frequently. We took full advantage of this prize, and at the time, it was difficult to spend $100 on dinner for two. I know, how quaint. We went big. We went downtown Minneapolis, downtown St. Paul; we got dressed up. We got recommendations from our fanciest friends. We got appetizers. Entrees. Desserts. After-dinner drinks. The works.
Shoutout to so many yesteryear favorites. D’Amico and Sons. Linguini and Bob. La Belle Vie. Oceanaire. Figlio’s. Café Lurcat. Lucia’s. Ahhhh. Is it possible to miss a restaurant? It is.
Once, at the stunning Art Deco restaurant Goodfellows, we accepted everything our well-meaning server recommended. It began with an amuse-bouche made of duck. We were dedicated to spending the $100. That night, it was far too much of too much. We now refer to that evening as “the night of too many different meats”.
Then came the parenting years (decades). To say it was miserable to eat in a restaurant with my cherished children does not do it justice. Actually, the first baby was somewhat manageable. She was easy to take places. She would eat a cereal bar or crackers while we dined at Chino Latino, and nobody seemed to mind. Then the second one arrived, and juggling two kids and a litany of new food allergies was less fun. The Original Pancake House in The Foursome in Wayzata would actually cook frozen allergen-free waffles for us that I brought from home. Above-and-beyond service, and so incredibly kind of them. Then the third child arrived. That was the final nail in the dining coffin. He refused to sit down for any meal, especially not in a public place. He is seventeen now. I’m not saying he’s just as bad, but it remains challenging for him to sit and eat at a leisurely pace. Why sit and linger for hours over a beautiful meal when you can shovel in fast casual food and get back to running around?
Now somehow, my husband and I, we are back. We are BACK BABY! The winds of change are upon us in this house, with the last kid graduating next spring. The restaurant industry has morphed so much over time as well. Some of the best places are no longer forty-five minutes away. They don’t require a reservation months in advance, a dinner jacket, or a love of foie gras. So many fabulous places “in our own backyard” now. Places with stunning interior decors, or patios with sweeping views. Creative menus. Fun atmospheres. Food I didn’t have to make, which is my favorite genre of food.
We started out enjoying restaurants because it was a rare treat and I was a new cook. Making meals was a bit of a mystery to me. I couldn’t make a really great meal thirty years ago. I’ve improved. But now we go for the pleasure of new ideas, a relaxed pace, and zero cleanup.
I’m looking forward to eating in restaurants again. Not dashing off to an event, not on a deadline, not eating in the car on the way. I’m excited to leave dinner making to the experts more often.
Check please. But no rush. We are taking our time to turn new places into old favorites.
Jen Fortner is a freelance writer who enjoys asking friends and strangers far too many questions. She spends her spare time sitting in inclement weather watching youth sports, traveling, cooking, and searching for the very best baked goods. She lives in Shorewood with her husband, three children and the most spoiled dog.