Saturday, August 01, 2009


I found this in my archives and it went with the photo I took in Medford:

Clerk: What are you making?

Customer: Eggplant parmagiana. It’s for my restaurant.

Clerk: Italian restaurant?

I want to eat at this place. It looks like a good solid Wisconsin supper club where you can get a good old fashioned, which is the drink my dad mentioned a few days before he died. My aunt Pat showed up the next day at the hospital with a pitcher of old fashioneds.

Customer: Dino’s, up the street.

Clerk: There are no real Italian restaurants here. They always add something they’re not supposed to.

Customer: Ours tastes like it’s supposed to.

Clerk: Bah. I’m from Naples, Italy. I know Italian food.

Customer: We’ve been in business for over 100 years. The food in the restaurant tastes just like what I ate at home when I was a little boy.

Clerk: Where you from?

Customer: Sicily. [leaves]

Clerk: Sicilians don’t know s*** about food.


lisleman said...

are you the customer?

Probably a big difference between Naples and Sicily.

class-factotum said...

No, I was the person behind the Sicilian, waiting with my bargain-table bananas and wishing that chard were not so expensive.