Growing up in a family of nine, soft drinks and snacks were a luxury. That’s not to say there weren’t snacks around. But they were peculiar. My father snacked a lot. And ritually. Every night, he would pull from the refrigerator a jar of pimento olives, the little green ones, and a large serving spoon. His one serving of this luxurious and healthy snack was whatever fit in the spoon. My youngest brother has inherited this habit, and I chuckle whenever I see it.
My father also liked to eat green onions. He incorrectly called them shallots, and now their hip name is Cebollitas. But the one I understood the least is his radish habit. He sliced this vile vegetable and salted it. I assumed he did this because it was a poor man’s snack.
What in the world then, would explain the current obsession with this tasteless little root? It is on menus everywhere, and almost always at places with a heavy millennial component to the clientele.
Every generation is perplexed by the one that follows it. The expression, “These kids today. . .” is the common mantra. So let me get it out of the way. “These kids today, . . . eat silly food.” How did this happen? Was it the fruit roll-ups in their daily lunchbox? Or the cookie dough out of the tube? Maybe the bags of no-fat chips that just made everyone fatter?
I am not a sociologist, but I am an observer, and here is what I have observed. You are in a millennial hotspot if:
The name of the place has the word tavern anywhere in it.
If the beer and cocktails are too crafty for you
If you see English peas in any menu description.
If radishes are prevalent in menu descriptions, or worse, if radishes ARE the course.
If Labneh, Za'atar, or Shakshouka turn up on the menu. If these are breakfast items, your millennemeter will be vibrating red.
If you see cashew cream or crema, or beets as a steak, hamburger, or a Benedict.
Anchovies as a course
The pollen of anything
Miso
And above all, Shrimp Chips
Cutesy phrases like “Lots of Good Stuff” in a menu description remind me of something Tom used to find annoying on menus. Back in the late Eighties, menu descriptions started to focus on extraneous things like where an ingredient came from, or how it was grown. Thirty years later, menus have evolved, . . .to this. These silly ingredients that can’t possibly stand by themselves make the transformation away from just simply food that tastes good to a dining experience that is more a head trip. About mission statements and causes instead of the pleasure of something that is simply delicious for the sake of it.
The day we find a plate of radishes as interesting as pot roast and mashed potatoes, we’ll all be as thin as my father.
