It looked like cat food. It smelled worse. “Try just a taste,” Ken said, and so I did. It was more horrible than I imagined.
We were sitting in a Thai restaurant with our friends and Forest, having a lovely dinner. Turns out something Ken ordered — Laab salad — was a pile ofcheap cat food-like substance and a hunk of iceberg lettuce. “It looks like food for exterterrestrials,” I told Ken. Ever the Midwesterner, he didn’t send it back, but tried to eat it.
“Remember that scene in Defending Your Life when Rip Torn lets Albert Brooks try some of his dinner?” Ken asked. We burst out laughing. In the scene, the Rip Torn character, who claimed to use something like 60% of his brain, as opposed to the Brooks character, called a “little brain” in the afterlife (the setting for film) can manipulate flavors in his mind in a way Brooks can’t imagine. Tasting the food of a big brain person doesn’t work out so well for Brooks.
Back home, we were excited to see if the cats would eat this dish. After all, it looked like what they usually eat, but once Ken served it to them, they ran the other way. So Ken fed it to the dog, who eats all kinds of unmentionable items, and although reluctant, the dog eventually ate it because that’s the job of a dog.
The $8.95 we paid for the meal was well worth hours of entertainment value although, to be honest, we’ll never order this again.