Nancy's Fancy Dinner: Grilled Pork Chops

Wednesday night I ate at a fine restaurant. The food was delicious, and the service top notch. I'm always amused, though, at the wait staff's description of menu items at such dining establishments. For instance, Wednesday I had a pan broiled filet of Scottish salmon served on a bed of lightly creamed spinach in a lemon curd sauce (There was some risotto involved too. I can't remember how it was described). Anyway, the wait staff always promote the dishes to make them sound as delectable as possible, as if they have to convince me to order dinner. I always want to respond, "I'm already seated, and I've got wine in front of me. It's pretty much a sure thing I'm going to order an entree."

But I don't because the servers are always so nice, and they work so hard. I know they're just doing their jobs.

Fine restaurant descriptions usually follow a pattern. There's always an adjective preceding the entree. Two adjectives make the meal sound even better. The meal is usually served with some kind of unique salsa or chutney as well as some kind of reduction. Example: "Tonight's special is a pan-seared Georgia pork tenderloin served with a cherry-mango salsa in an orange juice reduction."

Such enticing descriptions are a far cry from the answers I got growing up when I asked, "What's for dinner." If my siblings and I caught parents on a good day with that question, the conversation would go like this:

Kids: "What's for dinner?"

Parents: "Pork chops."

That's it. No salsa. No reduction. We knew there would be a side dish or two, but that was irrelevant. There was no attempt to entice. Just an answer to the question so we would get out of the kitchen. Now, if we ever caught parents on a testy day, the information was even more sparse:

Kids: "What's for dinner?"

Parents: "You'll find out when I put it in front of you."

But I guess that attitude doesn't sell many pan-broiled filets of Scottish salmon at twenty-five bucks a plate. Still, last night, my kids came in the kitchen and asked, "What's for dinner?" My reply: "Tonight we're having pork chops, lightly seasoned and grilled over hickory. They're served with cinnamon-fried McIntosh apples, green peas and baked sweet potatoes. The entree comes with house salad with your choice of ranch or Hendrickson's dressing."

After a blank stare, I was met with, "If I eat the salad, do I have to eat the peas?"

I should have stuck with my parents' stock answer.

The pork chops were easy to cook. Stephen fired up the Big Green Egg for me. I seasoned the pork chops with Big Green Egg seasoning and grilled them about nine minutes on each side. We hadn't had fried apples in ages. They're easy too. I just peeled and cored them and cut them into wedges. Then I sauteed them in butter and cinnamon until they were soft. The potatoes just went into a 425 degree oven for an hour, and the peas (frozen) boiled for a few minutes.

I can use all the inflated language I want to describe my fancy meal. But that doesn't mean I have to use fancy methods to cook it. And I bet such simple cooking happens in the kitchens of fine dining establishments all over the place.