Weekend Challenge

Steak? From a Diner?

Food should be quite self-explanatory, really. You shouldn’t order a dish that needs to be prepared specially at a restaurant known for its low-grade comfort dishes. But wouldn’t you like to know what it tasted like? What if it was really not as bad as everyone thought it would be? I asked myself these questions just this weekend, on a night like no other.

           I involve myself in the arts, whether for my school or not. Any student involved in competitive arts knows that January is the beginning of the chaos that is competition season. Whether it’s for acting, dance, or show choir, everyone is waking up at 4:00 AM on their precious Saturday mornings, and boarding a bus to take them somewhere across the Midwest until the next morning. These weekends are long and relatively sleepless, but, in the end, are worth every penny.

For this particular weekend, it was my show choir’s preview show, a long day of singing, dancing, burned hair, and eyelash glue. Almost every year on this night, the performers have a tradition of going out to dinner at around 9:00. This is where the stereotype is born of obnoxious arts students torturing the waitstaff by arriving just before the restaurant closes and needing a table of 30. I like to this that my group of friends makes up for it with incredible tips and polite behavior, but the stereotypes stand, nonetheless.

This night, we went to Perkins, the lower-rate breakfast joint that can be found in any town, small or large, in Minnesota. Upon walking it, I knew that I wanted to try something different to eat tonight. Looking at the menu, I stumbled across something that tickled my fancy. Country-fried steak. Now, any other logical human would know better than to order anything with the word “steak” in its name at a restaurant like Perkins. But I am not any other logical human. I ordered it with pride despite the disgusted looks and sleep-deprived muses of my friends.

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but what shortly arrived at the table was not it. I understand now that this is a very common dish, I had just simply never heard of it before. The slab of steak was unrecognizable when thickly breaded and smothered in viscous white gravy. I approached apprehensively with my fork and knife and cut a small piece off of one of the ends. The inside looked as you would have expected it, brown and meat-like. I faced my fear and took a bite.

A myriad of flavors came to mind as soon as I put it in my mouth. It was peppery, salty, oily, and simply felt like eating a chicken tender. To say anything more, it was delicious. I quickly swallowed and took another bite as my friends laughed confusedly at my delight. I offered each of them a piece of it and was smug when they realized how good it was.

The night went on with everyone enjoying their eggs and pancakes as I relished in my wonderful meal choice. More than once during the meal did my friends ask for another bite of my food. By the end of the night, everyone was full, happy, and positively exhausted. We parted ways, and I took in my experience that night. Steak from a diner may not seem like such a great idea, but country-fried steak will soon become my go-to order at any restaurant that offers it.