When the idea of kids and dinner comes to mind several images of our frequented eateries come to mind, generally adorned with very bold colors, loud, bright lighting and sticky booths.  You get the picture--my screaming brood often blends in with all the other screaming broods.  An appetite quencher in itself--at least for me {then, let's not forget the double fried foods or extra salty soups that come with}.

  I thank my dad for giving us an adventurous palate.  He wasn't shy about taking us to fine dining establishments{I guess that's a relative term}, but fine by my 10 year old-self standards and trying an array of food.  I still remember my first steak, our favorite Chinese, Mexican, wings, and ice cream parlor. He built a tradition out of dining and we cherished it all.  But in today's quick satisfaction society, the art of conversation is lost with instant gratification over getting our food.  I often order ahead when eating out at a restaurant so I don't have to deal with the stress of a screaming two year old or referee a fight over two my strong headed olders who often argue about facts that I don't have answers to.  But really am I doing them a disservice.  What am I teaching them about patience? Table manners? Being able to curb their behavior to match the scene? Am I taking away experiences that my dad gave me and are so memorable to this day because I aim to lessen my stress?  Those experiences shaped who I am.  My dad taught me the art of requesting things with good manners, and to take risks and deal with disappointments through these small experiences.  Also, because the finer experiences came far and few between, I enjoyed the anticipation, and the experiences were always as good, if not better, than promised.

So I decided to change tradition.  Yes, this is far from what Mr. Husband's experience was growing up, but in his defense, his mom was a master chef and adventurous cook so there was probably little need to go far from their kitchen.  My mom on the other hand kicks some serious keister with her tried and true dishes but sticks to a limited menu.

We recently tried sushi with the kids.  The olders like the udon and each tried on sushi. I got the cockeyed, south Indian head nod from Ani, when asked if she liked it.  Surprise, surprise, I got a "I LIKE SUCHEEESS!" from my dear Nia.  Reni would have enjoyed the tempura roll, but in her haste tried to put a piping hot roll in her mouth and did not want to go back for another scathing experience even though it had cooled.

Then, we had our version of a girls' night out when Mr. Husband was working the nights.  We headed to a smaller, finer Italian restaurant near our house.  Funny, when I walked in, I actually had to ask if it was an establishment where kids ate.  Nice soothing lighting, easy-listening pandora-esque play list in the background, and silverware; yes, this was not our typical establishment. We were clearly seated away from the more seriously conversing adult patrons but nonetheless  service was great.  We enjoyed our bread rolls dipped in olive oil and balsamic and started a great conversation.  Nia gladly chomped on my salad and as expected ate my entrée of salmon and vegetables instead of her kid's meal.  But we had a great time.  They brought their good manners to the table and surprisingly adjusted well {except for Nia's inability to keep her decibels down {she talks at the volume of an old lady with loss of hearing}}.  It reminded me of the time the older two waited patiently at the ramen restaurant in New York.

So for now, we may keep it a girls' night out tradition or perhaps we will rope Mr. Husband {grudgingly} to it. TBA.