The wife and I are out for dinner in a fancy, upscale Italian restaurant. This place is so dimly lit that I can barely read the menu. I’ve never really understood why these fancy places have dim lights. Probably so that you don’t see the prices on the menu. But I have only myself to blame for getting us here.

The Wife wanted to go and eat Masala Dosa. I like Masala Dosa too, but for some reason, my ego, which is sleeping most of the time, suddenly got up and made a big speech about how we should be culturally sophisticated and try all kinds of cuisines. I got into an argument with the wife, and made some preposterous claims, just for the heck of it.

Among other things, I claimed that I’m a very culturally sophisticated person. Apparently, I enjoy a wide variety of cuisines, with Thai and Argentinean food being my favorite. I also, it seems, don’t like Pizza and other clichéd recipes that have been corrupted to suite the common man’s taste, but preferring instead to try the exotic flavors of the world.

I made all these claims randomly, of course, but the wife has taken me on, and here we are, sitting at an expensive Italian restaurant where I can’t even order my favorite - Pizza - because I’m pretending to be culturally sophisticated.

The waiter comes by our table, and asks if we are ready to place our orders.

The Wife: “I think I’m going to have the Pizza!”
Me (chuckling to myself): “How cliché!”
Wife gives me the look. Now, I have to pretend to be “culturally sophisticated”, and need to order something unpronounceable. That’s what culturally sophisticated people do.
Me: “I’m going to have the Gratin de Verdure, with Mushroom Sauce, please.”
I can see a hint of a suppressed smile in the waiter as he writes that down. “Excellent choice, sir!” he says and walks away. I can definitely sense that he’s laughing. I hope I haven’t gotten myself into trouble ordering some random thing.

As we are waiting for our respective meals to arrive, I give the wife a good lecture about being culturally sophisticated. “It is important to express your palate to a wide variety of flavours. A well travelled man is one that has taken in all experiences - The new and the old, and is not afraid to mix it up a little bit. To be culturally sophisticated, one must learn to live with the traditions of the land - When in Rome, do like the Romans! Expand your senses to the richness of diversity, and it will return the favor in time!”

I wasn’t really sure what all that meant, but it sounded culturally sophisticated, and so appropriate at the time. But in hindsight, it was a big mistake, but these kinds of things are only obvious in hindsight.

The waiter bought our dishes. He placed a yummy-looking pizza in front of the wife. And as he placed my dish in front of me, I had a panic attack.

It was a yellowish-blue bar of what looked like RIN soap, cut into four long pieces, with some gooey dark liquid that looked like old engine oil next to it.

Me: “Looks delicious, doesn’t it?”

I had to keep up my culturally sophisticated image. Especially after my big lecture about it earlier. I couldn’t loose face over this. Oh god, why do I talk so much? This is not the first time my big mouth has gotten me intro trouble. But wait…Maybe it won’t be so bad. It just looks bad, but maybe it tastes awesome!

Just as I was thinking to it, the smell of the dish hit my senses like a cannon ball - Stinky cheese smell! It was so nauseating that I felt like I was going to throw up. But I calmed myself down. Can’t admit defeat! I’m a culturally sophisticated person. Can’t loose face.

Wife: “Let’s start. What are you waiting for?”

Ohhhh, she was playing the game. She probably sensed my fear. She was turning it on, just to break me. If I admitted I’d screwed up now, this defeat would stick with me forever - I’d never hear the end of it. I couldn’t let that happen. She knew this, and was attacking me, trying to bring me down. But no, I was not going to admit defeat. This is no dinner, this IS A WAR!!!!

[Update: Part 2 is here]

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