You, the sandwich
If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be? Describe it. (Bonus points for writing a recipe!)
I would like to be a side. I would hate to be an entree that someone didn’t like, resulting in my name becoming synonymous with a ruined meal, at least for that tasteless customer. I know I’m not for everybody, and this is OK. A disliked side is not going to ruin anyone’s day. I impress myself here with my astounding empathy and consideration for others. I once thought it would be great to start a play by having a nicely dressed man come to centerstage, clear his throat, and say, “If this play offends you, go **&^ yourself.” I don’t miss my 20’s at all.
Back to the restaurant. The restaurant would have to be top notch. I’m not having my name tossed out at “The Olive Garden” or “Golden Corral” (although I do love all-you-can-eat gummy bears). We are talking hamburgers that people cry for. That is where you will find the name Dan ^!@+@%&@>. Mouth watering, drive-one-hour-out-of-the-way-during-a-hurricane type of burgers. And I would be the enthused Robin to these quintessential Batmans (Batmen?). French fries all day, son.
The world is full of fries, from the crack-infused fries of McD’s to the potato-hinting fries of Wendy’s, to the pleasantly plump fries of Fudrucker’s, and so many others. First, my namesake fry side would be plentiful in its bounty. I want to see a pile of french sides that cascades over the top and sides of the burger like a tent. The fries will come out at just the right temp to be eaten immediately while maintaining an enduring hotness, like Helen Mirren. They will be the color of a school bus and all natural. Sea salt only of course. There will be a secret seasoning, so secret that not even I know what it is (think a vault protected by blind ninjas who could not read the recipe even if they wanted to).
Finally, there would be the condiments: a lime, three different types of ketchup, barbecue sauce, mustard, and Guiness. These accoutrements would be served in small porcelain bowls. Of course, you only have to use one (or none), but a daring soul might attempt combinations at their own risk. Oh, I forgot to mention that every time someone ordered a side of french fries M.C. Hammer comes out and performs “French Fry Time” in a special fry costume with the dance. Just kidding. That would be ridiculous to do that every time. It would only happen once a day.
I almost forgot the name: Dan’s Man Fries for Women and Children, Too. (So good even militant feminists can’t stop eating ’em.)