I went to dinner last night in San Francisco. It was a friend's birthday dinner and she had made reservations at a very posh and very expensive San Francisco restaurant that featured meats as their forte. We sat under the Bay Bridge and enjoyed the lights of the bridge and the full moon that kept rising higher and higher by the minute. We sat in this beautiful restaurant for 5 hours and ate and drank and enjoyed each other's company.
My husband ordered a $26 dollar chicken leg that tasted delicious. I ordered wild mushroom risoto. We shared a $12 dollar organic iceberg lettuce salad, iceberg, yes the stuff of salad bars. I marveled at one point out loud, how fancy food becomes when you use words like confit, creme fraiche and tartare instead of words like gravy, sour cream and raw.
I and my tastebuds thoroughly enjoyed the evening and the company. I did however, feel uncomfortable and chalked it up to not being used to eating such rich foods. Right around the same time the woman to my right said, "I think Veganism is an eating disorder" I hit on it, I felt guilty. G.U.I.L.T.Y. I have not eaten in a restaurant like this for many years, mostly because I find that the food prepared in my kitchen tastes just as good and is much cheaper but also because we are in a really difficult economic time and spending lavishly on food at a trendy restaurant seems innappropriate for me and my family.
As it turned out, we didn't have to spend a penny aside from the gas money to get there and to get home. And the company and food was lovely from beginning to end. But I still feel a little twinge when I think about how much everything cost and how there are people with nothing and how far those dollars would have gone to feed the needy.
And I think about the fine line between advantaged and pretentious. Am I the only person who noticed that or did others?
Hmmmm . . . .