As part of my work for fellow foodies I sometimes must cleanse my palate of great finds around Memfis Ohio's now bustling resteraunt scene and discuss the less tasty aspects of dining .Food safety.
Recently in search of some comfort food I decided to stop by the Country Inside America diner where I ordered a hamburger and a shake.
The server asked me how I wanted the burger cooked .I said medium rare.But when my dish came and I took but one small bite I wondered if the burger ,cool to my lips, might bite me back.I asked the server what temperature the ground beef had been cooked at and he looked at me as if I was asking for his PIN number.
"So you want the burger cooked more ?"the waiter said .
What I want, I told the server was to speak to the chef and owner about food safety before I call the better business bureau and board of health .
A man named Sam came out from behind the grill obviously not used to meeting anyone who hasn't just come from the Memfis Ohio Mall.I caught him looking at my sports coat as if I was wearing some type of royal cloak.I did my best to fit in with the Pork and Beans of Sam's challenging stance at my nerve to dare ask him about things like cooking time and E.coli.
(continued on page 6)
The windows are shaped like Church Windows ,an "Everything Must Go' banner sits above the bar ,chicky and levit-ated like a virtual Floating World atop our own .The ABC's ingredients meant to trigger ones sine -ing experience .The early-evening light that flowed past The Wild Palms into a spartan dining room made to look like anyone's living room.
The waiters and waitresses meant to resemble actors and actresses everyone is familiar with playing the part of Fathers and Friends all around us .There is a bit of attitude from the servers who go a little too far playing the role of famous domineering mothers who I must say awakening parts of my core -morphological identity to such an extent I began singing along with the piano player's rendition of "Baubles,Bangles and Beads "like a schoolgirl until my wife's steady glare fell upon me.
The one problem I had with Catfish Neurubu was that our table was right in front of the open kitchen's domed oven with a wood fire burning inside.
As the meal progressed I began to feel like Rock Hudson in the final reel of "Seconds" because there was a little less room between the tables than there should have been and" the man "placed behind me kept tipping his chair back pushing me and the table closer and closer toward the flames.