Michael Sieburg

Last night I ate at Nyonya, a wonderful little Malaysian restuarant in Little Italy (figure that one out). I found it humurous that numerous items on the menu came with the warning, “Please ask server for advice before ordering.” I ordered Laksa, a dish that came with just such warning. When I didn’t ask the waitress her advice, she distressingly responded, “Do you know what Laksa is?” I replied that yes I did but I resisted the urge to be snarky and comment that I had indeed been to Malaysia and eaten the dish on the island of Penang. She then proceeded to explain that it’s fishy and spicey. I nodded and she said, “Do you want it normal?” And I said, “Yes.” It reminded me of the time I ate at a reasonably upscale Indian restaurant and the waiter warned me that my chicken came on the bone, as if that would come as a huge shock.

I’m not criticizing either server. I understand that stuffy diners probably don’t like chicken served on the bone and that the taste of Laksa can be overpowering to those not accustomed to its taste but it illustrates how picky some diners can be and how insecure restaurants have to be in order to cater to their tastes. I have little patience for picky and unadventurous eaters (except for religious and moral justifications), so I was heartened to read the great NY Times piece last week titled, “Down with Picky Eating: A Parent’s Tale from Beijing“.