Dear FloFab, Can I answer? Love, Meatball


Do you ever read the “Dear FloFab” in Diner’s Journal?  Some of the questions remind me that there always is a crappier person out there, waiting to poo-poo on your platter.  For example:

Q:  I have relatives who perpetually comment on their perceived costs of the entrees served by me. If it is turkey, they advise fellow guests that it must have been purchased frozen at Thanksgiving time when frozen birds are inexpensive. Ham? They advise that it was on sale at the market two weeks ago. Steak? They comment that I must have purchased marked down meat. What to do?

A:  Serve pasta.

My suggested answer would be to either not invite said rude relatives, or to possibly throw the meat in their laps followed by a glass of wine and then smearing it around a bit with the tablecloth.

Here’s another:

Q:  When my friend and I go out to eat, she invariably tries to pick the restaurant, even when she asks me where I would like to go. I would suggest a place and she would make a counter suggestion. Once I invited her out to dinner and suggested we try one restaurant, and she made reservations at an entirely different one. How do I assertively suggest a restaurant without sounding like a control freak?

A:  Your friend is the control freak. I would have a frank discussion about it and suggest that you take turns choosing the restaurant. Or, if you want to let her keep a little control, she picks two and you pick one. Just figure out a different system.

My suggested answer is to stop going out to dinner with that nutjob and go with someone who actually values your opinion and/or lets you choose half the time.   I’m positive this sort of behavior carries over into other realms of this “friendship” – and at the heart of it is your friend disrespects you.  DEALBREAKER!

I could do this all day!  More, more, more!