by Atul Gawande August 13, 2012
It was Saturday night, and I was at the local
Cheesecake Factory with my two teen-age daughters and three of their
friends. You may know the chain: a hundred and sixty restaurants with a
catalogue-like menu that, when I did a count, listed three hundred and
eight dinner items (including the forty-nine on the “Skinnylicious”
menu), plus a hundred and twenty-four choices of beverage. It’s a
linen-napkin-and-tablecloth sort of place, but with something for
everyone. There’s wine and wasabi-crusted ahi tuna, but there’s also
buffalo wings and Bud Light. The kids ordered mostly comfort food—pot
stickers, mini crab cakes, teriyaki chicken, Hawaiian pizza, pasta
carbonara. I got a beet salad with goat cheese, white-bean hummus and
warm flatbread, and the miso salmon.
The place is huge, but it’s invariably packed, and you can see why. Read more http://www.newyorker.com
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