The Ratings Game

Vince likes to play this little game, apparently because it's fun to torture himself. Whenever he makes dinner, he forces me to rate it. So I do. And I'm honest. Because Vince is very thick-skinned in most ways, and because, well, I can't help but be honest, even if it hurts. So a dinner will not just get an A, B, etc., but a gradation of that--A- or B+--with full commentary. This is all on Vince's insistence, you understand.

Now anyone who has had Vince's cooking knows it rarely falls short of a great meal. So really, a B+ for Vince is like an A for the rest of us. But he's the type of person who always sees room for improvement, a trait that can be maddening at times but in all is a very, very good thing. (He's pushed me in more ways than one, to my benefit. Thank you, honey. :P)

So a typical "ratings game" dinner conversation might go like this. 

Vince: "So what do you think? How is the risotto?"

Me: "Okay, it's great overall. But here's what I would say. I think it's a bit dusky."

Vince: "What? Dusky?! What does that mean?"

Me: "Well, it could use a little brightening, really. I like the mushroom flavor but it needs a little something to bring it up. I think some sort of sweet herb could do the trick, or maybe a handful of sun-dried tomatoes."

Vince: "What?! It's perfect, though, isn't it? I mean, how would you rate it?"

Me: "Honestly? Because, you know, I have to be honest."

Vince: [Nods head, looks down anxiously.]

Me: "I'd have to give it a B+ to an A-."

Vince: "What?! B+?!"

Me: [Nodding.] "And I think a bit more lemon."

Vince clutches his head and moans in agony, a very Italian gesture. He then challenges my "review," but eventually agrees. Ah, just another low-pressure meal in the Bielski-Borris household. 

xo,

Chris