A while back my boss, let’s call him George Carbo, brought a few of us to eat at Emeril’s in New Orleans. I knew that me, Earl, Regina and Kelly were in for a real treat. I’d never been there before but if it’s as good as Shaw’s Catfish House I knew I’d be happy.

Now this was a fancy place. A girl comes over and takes my napkin and goes to put it in my lap. Out of reflex I almost grabbed her arm and told her to watch herself. Then a guy comes over to tell us what is on the menu and how they prepare it. “First we take the duck and roast it in succulent sautéed gourmet flavors. Then we pull the meat from the bone….blah blah blah.” Daaang! Do I have to order that way to?  ”First I want you to take the ground beef and make a patty out of it. Then sauté it with salt and pepper….”

The menu had no prices and I didn’t even have to rattle the ice in my glass to get a refill of tea. Then comes the bisque. OMG! It was soooo good. The redneck in me almost asked the waiter for a biscuit so I could sop up what little bit was left in my bowl. But that wouldn’t be fine dining now would it?

Then some salt spilled on the table and made a mess. Now where I normally eat you would just lean over and blow it off the table, but no, not here. A little man runs over with supplies and cleans up every grain. Daaaang! Then comes the main course. WOW! What is happening in my mouth? What flavors. I heard that taste was a sense but I thought that was an old wives tale. I’m going straight home and all of the potted meat, hamburger helper and spam is going straight in the trash. What have I been missing? I even got a doggie bag for the three bites of food that were left.

Thanks George for opening my eyes to fine dining. I hope I will get a raise since I’m a cultured redneck now. Until then, gotta go eat my fried spam sandwich sautéed in grease for breakfast. I’m just sayin’.