That last post sparked some other food related memories...
When I was a kid, my family very rarely ate in restaurants. However, on a few scattered occasions we went to visit my maternal grandparents (the only sane adults I knew) in Flagstaff, Arizona. Those visits were like sweet islands of peace amid the chaos. (Well, peaceful once we got past the Oak Creek Canyon switchbacks that always made my brother, Andy, get carsick. It was so gross to see him puke!)
Anyway, when we went to my grandparents' home, they would often take our family out to dinner at a Chinese Food place there in Flagstaff for Chicken Fried Steak. Apparently they were good friends with the owners. My grandparents were very proud to be able to buy us all a steak dinner - something we could never afford.
However, this was a CHINESE FOOD restaurant. I didn't want steak. I wanted something exotic sounding like Moo Goo Gui Pan. I resented it bitterly that I was never given a choice of what to order when we went out. But I knew better than to make a fuss. So I'd sulk my way into the red naugahyde booth and dutitfully choke down my chicken fried steak, never appreciating it for a minute. I got so angry about it I used to surrepticiously stuff the chick peas (otherwise known as garbanzo beans) that came with the dinner into a nearby potted pant while the grown ups were busy talking.
Boy, did I show them! Yeah, that was the beginning of my serious rebel days. Who knows? If I'd been allowed chopsticks and stir fry I might have saved myself and a lot of other people whole lot of grief!