When culinary worlds collide

For about week now I've been jonesing for a platter of honest-to-gosh American chow. So when Lian says she wants to try "European food," I think: perfect. There's this local chain, The Duke's, that should cover both bases, and it's an easy half-mile walk from my place.

Typical Thai lunch, or what's left of it.

By the way, Lian has no idea what "European food" is, nor has she ever tasted any cuisine from outside southeast Asia. Our meals usually consist of takeout from the vendor stalls or what she buys at the open-air markets: dried fish, fiery stir-fried chicken or pork with herbs, raw beans and cuke slices, nam prik (chiles in fish sauce), fresh fruit, noodle dishes, and rice rice rice.

Tonight we visit a spot-on simulation of the lard-assed American eating experience, right down to the massive portion sizes. Think Applebee's quality at Stanford's prices and you've got The Duke's.  Lian is lost in the illustrated mega-menu of burgers, steaks, pizza, pasta, ribs, appetizers, sides, salads ...

"I have salad," she decides by process of elimination, and I get the sense that everything else looks kind of horrifying.  I go with the vegetarian lasagne, reasoning that it contains enough familiar elements that I can share; there'll certainly be plenty.

A big plate of focaccia arrives.  Lian points to the butter and asks: "Nii a'rai?" So I explain what butter is to a 49-year-old woman who has never seen the stuff.  Exactly the same way she explains the most familiar condiments in her world to me.

First, the bleu cheese dressing ...

Lian's salad arrives and thank goodness I thought to order the dressing on the side.  Can you believe that a lettuce wedge with bleu cheese was the least offensive salad choice?  She tastes the dressing and makes a terrible face.

... then the Roquefort.

Then she notices the lump of roquefort on the other side of the plate.  I am ready with the camera, and the moment does not disappoint.

We beg our waitress for something resembling Thai salad dressing, but the kitchen has none. So she eats her iceberg lettuce wedge dry. And that is Lian's "European food" experience.

As we leave, she thanks me for dinner, but adds: "I think, no second time."