Writing yesterday’s blog made me think of all sorts of other food stories having to do with unmet expectations and misunderstood menus.

I had a restaurant in Vermont for a while, and some people, usually New Yorkers, assumed that we were all a bunch of yokels. (I can say that, being a New Yorker myself.) One day we had veal scallopine on the menu. Two young, exquisitely coiffed and manicured bleached blondes from Long Island ordered it, and then made a fuss when it arrived. I was working the front of the house that day, but their waitress held up her hand, indicating to me that she would handle it. The young women said that they had been to Italy, and that this was not veal scallopine–it had peppers, and it should have mushrooms and tomatoes. The waitress said that it was the chef’s version, whereupon the young women said that if the chef had ever ventured out of the cornfield he would know better.

My waitress–who had a Master’s degree and was waiting tables to help pay for her doctorate–told them that veal scallopine simply means pieces of veal and is not the name of a specific recipe, and that furthermore the restaurant’s owner (me) had been around the world at least four times and had not, to her knowledge, ever set foot in a cornfield. And then she repeated it again–in Italian. They ate their food.

In my own waitressing days, I had a customer who ordered his omelet rare. The chef gave me a funny look, but undercooked it a little. I served it, and the customer said it wasn’t rare enough. The chef tried again. After the third try, the chef took off his apron, swapped his baseball hat for a tall white toque, walked to the customer’s table, set down a plate, and broke three eggs on it with a flourish.

A friend of mine who was also a travel writer wound up on a junket to Japan that was for foodies. After days of dealing with unfamiliar food and unusual delicacies, she sat down to yet another dinner and tucked into an appetizer that looked palatable–several globules of what looked like aspic with a bit of something–maybe foie gras?–in the middle. As was the pattern of that particular trip, after dinner all the writers were given a detailed description of what they had just eaten and how it was prepared. Turns out her “aspic” had been fetal seal. She begged off the next day’s lunch and went looking for a McDonald’s.

–Mary Hunt, editor, eFlyer

I was talking with–well, actually IMing with–a friend in Australia the other day, and he mentioned an expensive dinner of Wagyu steak. That didn’t ring any bells with me, so I looked it up. Turns out that Wagyu is the breed of cattle, genetically predisposed to a lot of fat-marbling, that’s the source of Kobe beef. Kobe beef, on the other hand, is sort of like Champagne–it’s only officially Kobe if it’s raised in the prefecture of Kobe in Japan. Wagyu cattle are raised in other places than Japan, including Australia, so when you’re in Australia, try some Wagyu–it’s virtually indistinguishable from Kobe beef, and a bit more affordable.

The crazy price of Kobe beef–about $300 a pound–comes about because the cattle is raised on expensive Japanese land, fed expensive Japanese grain, and massaged because there’s not enough land for it to run around (when it’s still on the hoof). That reminded me of a story that actually made headlines in the St. Petersburg Times recently. It seems that a group of four went to a nice restaurant, and when the specials were read aloud, one was Kobe beef. The guests ordered it. The host, not wanting to seem crass, didn’t ask the price. The final bill was something like $800, and the person who had to pick up the tab raised a stink that he was ripped off. Final result, as I remember, was that he had to pay–essentially for being clueless. Let’s hope his guest was naive and clueless too, because otherwise how incredibly rude to order something so expensive.

 I can understand people who don’t ask the price better than people who order something when they don’t know what it is, though. I think it’s a guy thing, sort of similar to not asking directions. When I was in college, I worked at the Fountain Cafe in Central Park, and we had steak tartare on the menu. At least once a week, some man–usually a young man, or a tourist from the heartland–would order it, only to be shocked, appalled or even angry when I showed up with a bowl of raw hamburger with an egg carefully broken on the top.

One young man sat patiently looking at his bowl for quite a while. I left him alone, figuring he didn’t want to admit he hadn’t known what he was getting. After a while, he started looking around for me, so I asked what he needed. He asked when I was going to bring the grill; I guess he thought I’d brought him the make-your-own-hamburger kit. To help him save face in front of his girlfriend, I told him all the grills were in use and offered to cook it for him in the kitchen. He actually seemed disappointed that he wasn’t going to get to play with fire. Another guy thing, I guess.

 –Mary Hunt, editor, eFlyer

Today is my 23rd birthday and as each year creeps by, I feel the adulthood slowly making a bigger and bigger presence in my life. For instance, last year on my birthday I did not yet have a full time job. I had just been hired, but I was still extending my college days a bit further, sleeping in and staying out late. My, what a difference a year makes!

Now if someone says “Let’s go out on a Tuesday night” I look at them like they are crazy!! Don’t they realize I have to wake up in the morning, work and then run around doing errands. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am only 23 so I still stay out late with friends and have fun, but my priorities have changed over the last twelve months.

I have also begun to look toward the future more and started planning ahead. A year ago I never would have taken care to worry about my investments. Now I am planning a visit with a financial advisor to plan for retirement and invest in the future. And all those bonds from my childhood that I never thought about seeing the money from? It might be almost time to cash them in!

And among other changes, for my birthday, I got a whole new load of responsibility! I got the cutest puppy for my birthday. But, it is like I had my first child. We have frequent early morning crying, morning feedings, outside trips and the various other responsibilities and training duties that come along with having a two month old puppy. This has definitely put me on a new schedule, waking me up about an hour earlier then before and giving me time to accomplish things in the morning.

Things have changed dramatically over the last year. I can only wonder what changes await me this year….

-Kimberly Krol, circulation and public relations executive

Living in the exurbs as I do, I sometimes do not fully appreciate how generously proportioned most Americans are. I rarely frequent malls so I rarely see people in large groups unless I’m hanging around an airport.

I am currently sitting in one of the waiting areas in Terminal A at Newark Liberty Airport and I am stunned to see how really f-a-t a large percentage of Americans are. As two of the broadest beamed individuals waddled past me I prayed “Dear God, let them NOT sit next to me!” The people who design seats for trains and buses as well as the airlines think Americans still eat a depression era diet of scant portions. Whose butts do they measure to come up with the average seat space needed for their passengers?

Of course, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Americans are plump when you see the food that is available to travelers at the airport restaurants and fast food stands, as well as the candies, snacks and drinks available at the newsstands. The restaurants push heart-unfriendly fried or fat laden food while the newsstands carry nothing but super-sized snacks.

On this trip I woke up at the screech of doom and left my house with nothing more than a cup of tea. I had a 10:30 flight which I missed because of a major accident on the NJ Turnpike, which is the most direct way from where I live to Newark Airport. I was able to get on a 1:40 flight to Chicago so I had time to kill and figured I’d have a light lunch because I knew there was nothing on board my flight except liquids and the miniscule packet of peanuts with approximately 10 nuts. I try to stay on a healthy low fat diet that avoids red meats and heavy ups on green leafy vegetables. Try finding any food that closely resembles that in an airport. I know that some airports have a few (usually just one) heart friendly food outlets and that others are trying to bring more such establishments into their concourses.

So as the pangs of hunger started increasing I went in search of sustenance. What I found invariably had cheese in it, or was fried, or was super-sized. I finally settled on a tuna mini-sub (3″) at Subway. Their usual sub size is 6″ or 12″! The first question the server asked was “Do you want that with cheese?” Cheese with tuna salad????? What are they thinking? The two large ladies in front of me were getting 6″ turkey subs with extra cheese while the large man (I swear he was pregnant) behind me was getting a 12″ roast beef sub with extra cheese. The amount of body fat surrounding me in that line had to be equal to half a whale in the days when whale blubber lighted the cities of Europe and the US. I have to admit you can eat healthy at Subway, but you have to restrain yourself from adding on the fat, i.e. cheese, if you trying to eat smart when you travel.

-Dick Evans, vice president

You and I are related. It’s not as far-fetched as it sounds. According to an article in yesterday’s Boston Globe, scientists are hot on the trail of DNA analysis that can trace the route a person’s ancestors traveled from

The Genograhic Project, a research initiative conducted in partnership between the National Geographic Society and IBM, uses laboratory and computer analysis of DNA to map how Earth was populated. The five-year study, which commenced in 2005, is expected to result in a public database that will house one of the largest collections of human population genetic information ever assembled.

In their initial report, released last June, researchers revealed the results of the analysis of genetic data collected from 78,590 participants. Interested in discovering the route your ancestors took from the cradle of humankind in East Africa ― east through Asia and perhaps across the once ice-covered Bering Strait into the Americas, or northwest through Europe and eventually across the

The study is open to the public. Participation information is posted on the Genograhic Project Web site. There’s also an interesting video that tracks the results of DNA tests conducted on four individuals selected at random in

Look around. That’s your long-lost relative sitting across from you.