Small plates are not 'in' for eaters

0 Comments | Deseret News (Salt Lake City), Jun 13, 2006 | by Doug Robinson Deseret Morning News

I think I speak for most men when I say that a recent item in the newspaper caused considerable consternation among our gender.

It was as upsetting as seeing another story about Tom and Katie and almost as bad as another report about -- oh, please, no, I beg you -- Brangelina.

The headline: "Small Plates Are Bigger Than Ever."

"'Super size' is out," the lead story of the food section began. "Small plates are in."

Actually the plates are the same size; it's what's served on them that's smaller. Read it and weep, men: Many restaurants are starting to serve smaller portions. It's the new fashion, like wearing your collar up.

Bon Appetit Magazine said "small plates" are a hot trend.

Be still, my stomach.

Our food editor, Valerie Phillips, explained that there are many names for the trend: The Spanish term is "tapas." The Chinese call it "dim sum." The Italians call it "antipasti."

I call it "not enough."

It's not that I don't believe in portions. I believe in big portions. It's not that I don't believe in limits, either. I subscribe to Miss Piggy's philosophy: "Never eat more than you can lift." When it comes to eating, my hero is the professional football player who, when asked by a waiter what he would order, replied, "I'll have Page 2."

I have a theory about restaurants: The quantity of the food is inversely proportional to the price. The more you pay, the less you get. But it does look pretty.

I went to a high-brow restaurant in San Francisco once and ordered what I thought was a large meal, based on the description and price ($50). Twenty minutes later they brought it to my table. The entire meal fit neatly in the middle of the plate, about 5 inches in diameter, and it was very colorful and flowerlike.

Nice. But I wanted a meal, not a corsage.

It didn't even cover the plate, which is rule No. 1 for moi, thank you. "Where is the rest of it?" I asked.

The waiter wasn't amused.

Did I order from the child's menu?

I didn't know whether to eat it or pin it to my lapel.

Afterward, I went to IHOP and ordered an omelet that was the size of a Sunday newspaper.

"When you see 12 things on the menu and you want to try them all, with small plates you can at least try a few of them," one chef explained.

Or you could just order the 12 things.

There are diners and there are eaters. Most men are eaters. The more the better. It doesn't have to look pretty. We're not looking for "presentation" -- we're just going to eat it anyway. We don't eat food that has names we can't pronounce. We don't read Bon Appetit, and we certainly don't watch Martha Stewart. Frankly, we're not terribly interested in how the food is fixed or even what's in it -- those are just details. We'd rather eat food than talk about it.

Diners eat at La Caille and order duck a l'orange. Eaters eat at Denny's and order The Grand Slam or meat skillet.

Diners eat slowly and savor it; eaters slam it. Our philosophy: Get it down before someone takes it away.

Eaters aren't real particular. Our attitude about meat, for instance, was pretty much summed up by the Woody Harrelson character in the movie "Cowboy Up." When a waiter in a fancy restaurant asks him how he wants his steak cooked, Harrelson replies, "Just knock off the horns and plop her down on my plate!"

Our news editor, John Robinson -- no relation -- is an eater, not a diner. I once saw him eat a Whopper in three bites, leaning over the sink of our hotel kitchenette. He didn't even take his coat off. I was just relieved he didn't bite off a couple of fingers, too.

"I'm all about quantity, and if I get some quality, that's a bonus," says Robinson.

Amen, and bon appetit.

Doug Robinson's column runs on Tuesdays. Please e-mail drob@desnews.com.