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“Dinner at Fran's.”
by Jerasimos N. Mantas, Freelance Writer.
Written: April 4th, 2011.
by Jerasimos N. Mantas, Freelance Writer.
Written: April 4th, 2011.
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It was a typical Monday afternoon for me. It was nearly five o'clock - quitting time for most people working downtown - and I had just left from my appointments in the Queen's Park area of downtown Toronto. I had been walking about on College Street in the late afternoon, and thinking of where I could possibly go to get something to eat. I had been in the mood for Oriental food, and my thoughts centred on a Chinese restaurant somewhat nearby that I had visited many times before. But, somehow, today my mind didn't seem satisfied with that option. At first, I wasn't consciously aware of the urgent signals that my brain was receiving from nearby. Across the street and nearly half a block east from where I stood that moment, a bright, red, neon sign prominently displayed the name "Fran's", like a beacon to the people walking in the immediate vicinity. Then, at some point, my gaze gravitated to that sign. My curiosity had been piqued, and almost like some hypnotized body, I went straightaway to the entrance of the restaurant to satisfy my curiosity, and perhaps, much more.
From outside, the place had the look of an old-fashioned retro-styled diner from the 1950's. Some parts of the external facade looked a bit weather-worn by time and the elements. I took it all in as though it was all purposely part of the overall image of the place, and thought nothing more of it. I decided to enter the establishment and remained near the front door - staring intently at the various paraphernalia of history that decorated a broad section of the nearest wall to the entrance where I stood. I noticed newspaper clippings, photos, announcements, a few baseball caps, and so on, all mounted upon it. I stood there for some time - witnessing the times and occasions that had made history for this restaurant. Gradually, my attention drifted from the entrance to the counter surrounding the bar and cashier's stations. There, I saw a few of the awaiting servers and a bar attendant. Further away, I saw several other customers sitting at various booth-styled tables all around the dining area that began from near the front door and stretched all the way back into the depth of the restaurant’s kitchen entrance. Moments later, a server came to greet me with a broad smile and kind manner, then led me to a table in the section at the front of the restaurant, where singles or couples could sit at smaller, more intimate seating.
I was promptly seated and given a tall glass of chilled water, a straw, cutlery neatly rolled in a handkerchief-sized napkin for the place setting, along with a large menu. Everything in the restaurant’s interior looked clean, bright, well lit and convincingly imbued with the essence of a 1950's retro-styled diner that the outside facade only hinted at from a distance. As I opened the menu, my appetite was stirred to near confusion - a barrage of conflicting desires raced through my mind as I browsed through the ample variety of appetizers, main dishes and desserts that were sure to please anyone's desires, let alone my increasingly conflicted messages that began to ring loud bells of urgency to devour whatever I would eventually choose to have for dinner! Oh, it was absolute mayhem in my mind, and after watching me fidget with anticipation, my server came and asked what I had chosen to have for dinner tonight. Ah, I wished I could have made up my mind right then, but the number of choices in the menu were just too many to settle upon only one dish. That's when I broke down and asked for help from my server, in the hopes that some guidance might serve to relieve my indecision and confused appetite.
There were just too many choices of food available for my mind to settle with just 'any' kind. Oh! There were tantalizing appetizers, mouth-watering main dishes, and delectable desserts - from the modest, unassuming simple dishes in each of the groups, to the more stylishly-prepared – each one a delicious, special treat to please any palate! Now, you could understand my difficulty in choosing just a single, satisfying dish. With the help of my knowledgeable server, I was able to ask questions regarding the few dishes I had winnowed my choices down to. It came down to something with Asian style, European or Americana origins. I finally heard that little voice that had tortured me before I even took notice of Fran's. So, I took a chance and selected an Asian-style dish, and waited quietly to be surprised. The server asked for my choice of beverage and I asked if certain diet soft drinks were available – once I heard my favourite one mentioned, I asked for that to accompany the meal when it was ready to serve. Once the server left, I amused myself by taking in more of the interior details of the place. Old-fashioned wall displays, advertisements from decades gone by and authentic items (like an old-fashioned jukebox in the dining space) and various trimmings decorated the place, giving you a real sense of the dining atmosphere from many decades ago. To tell the truth, I didn't fully notice that about 10 minutes or so had gone by from the time I ordered the meal. I had been so occupied by the surroundings, that time was secondary to my awareness of things and people around me.
Minutes later, my server had returned with the meal and the soft drink I had ordered. I was surprised by the presentation. The drink had a lime wedge at the top of the glass rim, and the dish was hot and aromatic. I took in the blend of the ingredients and spices, which gave this Asian-style dish its signature, as I sat for a moment to admire the meal before me. Tender cuts of beef were prepared in a vegetable stir-fry that came with the addition of mushrooms, green and red peppers that I had asked to be included in the dish. The dish was served on an ample portion of white rice in a square-shaped, deep-dish bowl. I was even served a new set of wooden chopsticks with which to eat the meal. Had the strips of beef not been so long in length, I would have eaten the entire dish with the chopsticks – but, I wasn't well-skilled in their use – so I had to resort to using the flatware included in the place-setting from time to time, wherever I encountered difficulty with handling the dish. I was amused by this juxtaposition of utensils served in an Americana-style restaurant. I was rendered speechless by the humour in the situation. I sat motionless for a few moments, which drew my server's attention to my stillness, when I was asked if anything was wrong. I smiled back and said, “No. Everything is excellent!”; and it truly was so. I returned to the meal at hand and enjoyed every morsel of well-seasoned meat, vegetable and rice I took my time eating in a very thoughtful, deliberate way. When the meal was done, I sat quietly, satisfied. Moments passed, and eventually my server returned to ask how things were with the meal, to which I repeated my earlier praise for the meal before I had begun eating. That was enough to satisfy my server. Then, came the question of what I wanted for dessert. With this choice also, I had questions regarding what was the special, what was freshest, and so on. I knew deep down, that the next choice would be a precarious one because it would finish my impressions of the place and my dinner experience. I stayed true to my deepest inner cravings, and bent to their will! I broke down and ordered the hot fudge brownie topped with chocolate ice cream, whipped cream, and a cherry on the top. I figured, if I am going to take this one opportunity to treat myself, albeit 'sinfully', there was no better time than the present. So, I gave the order and awaited the final piece to end the experience with.
It came a few short minutes later. At the sight of it, I gasped! It was a shock, really! I sat there, stupefied by the sheer decadence of the dish! Playfully, I said to the server, “I don't know if I am going to finish IT, or IT will finish ME!” My server smiled a wide-toothed grin and began to laugh a bit at what was purely a sporting joke of mine. By now, I had a mischievous look in my eyes as I turned my gaze upon that totally-tempting, sinister beast of chocolate heaven – fudge ripples decorating the dessert and serving dish itself. The ice cream was as delicious it could be for such a treat, and a chewy chocolate brownie split in two surrounded the ice cream that was topped with fudge syrup, whipped cream and a maraschino cherry for the topping! I took my time in enjoying this utterly decadent dessert. When my tummy had its fill, I bowed out graciously and admitted my defeat...the dessert had won the fight! I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it, but I wasn't a poor sport about it. Absolutely not! I had eaten well and sensibly for the main dish...so, I allowed myself to dive off the deep end and have a dessert to satisfy the cravings that I normally don't indulge.
jerasimos n. mantas
Since hair grows one centimetre per month on average, a three-centimetre-long hair sample can show cortisol stress hormone levels over three months, researchers say. (Vahid Salemi/Associated Press)
