M. Suzanne Terry

[Wine. I want wine.]

I didn’t grow up eating out a lot – my family is very much a part of the We-have-food-at-home crowd. When we did go out to eat, it was usually to the local steakhouse or to the place where MeMaw and Granddad (on Mom’s side) were regulars. While I was not about to complain about this occasional treat, there were elements present that would deter me today.

Most of the days we went out to any restaurant, there were so many people. They all seemed to be talking at once. It was so, so loud.

And the LINES.

We waited in line to get a table.

We waited in line for the salad bar (which we always were compelled to get).

We waited in line for the bathroom when we drank too much tea that was refilled before it was even halfway empty (which, admittedly, is great service).

We waited in line to pay.

So. Many. Lines.

Seeing how much Mom relished becoming an unapologetic homebody who spent a lot of time alone outside once she retired makes me wonder if we have some of the same sensory issues in common. I suspect this is the real reason we didn’t spend a lot of time at restaurants, particularly on Sundays when it was sure to be crowded and loud.

When I lived in various apartments during college, my roommates and I went out to eat a lot. It was convenient and still felt special to me. After a while, it just became a habit. I was having fun, and I learned to ignore the overstimulating environments. And by “ignore” I do mean “refuse to make the obvious connection between them and my increase in nervous gastro issues.”

The stay-at-home portion of the pandemic drastically changed my outlook on going out to eat. I really enjoyed not doing it and not having to explain why I didn’t want to hang out at a loud, busy place. I still supported local restaurants – most of the ones I frequent adjusted to offer some curbside or reliable delivery option – but I got to enjoy the delicious food and drink in the quiet of my own space. My favorite was the local cheese shop that delivered wine and cheese pairings. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on wine and cheese in 2020.

After everything started opening back up again, I just kept…not going out. People can choose whether they want to understand (or not, and thus hurt their own feelings by stubbornly refusing to employ the empathy that’s necessary to do so), but I’m not going back to that habitual torture.

I occasionally find myself in a busy restaurant with lots of chatter and intense, competing smells and loud music and all sorts of other stimuli, but it’s back to being a special-occasion situation like it was when I was a kid. I still love going out sometimes, but I much prefer a quiet place where I don’t have to raise my voice to have a conversation. I want good service that is attentive but not hovering (I tip well regardless, but I am over the top about it if they hit this sweet spot). I don’t want a lot of bright or flashing lights. Just…everybody calm down and have a relaxing time.

And please don’t make me stand in line.

I’m writing about culinary experiences that make me feel at home this month.