Since the last time, I went to two more bars and had gin and tonics. Well, they are both restaurants with bars. There is a big distinction. It’s the big question of this walking around and settling in for a drink and then walking to the next place. The question, are you in a bar with food, are you at a restaurant where you can get a drink? It’s where you place the emphasis. Like how you say Aunt. Do you say it like Ant or Ahnt. I say it like Ant, which must mean I prefer to go into a bar with food. If the bar doesn’t have food, or if the kitchen has been accidentally phased into another realm of existence and then only thing available is liquor, I am fine with that state of affairs.
I went to two last Wednesday. I hit Yummy Steak House and Leo’s. Both of them are
definitely Restaurants with bars attached to them. For this letter, I think I will only talk about Yummy. I have enough to say about Leo’s and I don’t want to overwhelm with my comments, because you know me, how I do go on and on. There is no stopping me.
Actually, that is not completely true. I have one drink on this expedition of bars and then I am done. I don’t do food, I just have one gin and tonic and move along. I always write like I walk from bar to bar. From place to place. Like some western Palladin, Have Drink Card Will Travel. But the truth is, there is no way to go from place to place in Worcester without a car. It kind of takes a little of the mystique out of a bar excursion.
Yummy Steak House is a Sushi Bar, Hibachi joint, and Asian restaurant. On its off hours, it also fights crime. 1121 Grafton Street is where it is. Another Asian restaurant was there before this. The bones of it is what you would expect. A large area for hibachi tables, a room with a colorful bar, tables for diners and an area for the sushi to be made. There was keno and sports on the flat screen. There were bright neon colors for accent. Nothing out of place. Well, maybe I was out of place.
Because I wasn’t eating. There were folks at the bar but all having drinks and appetizers, as you should. The bartender gave me a menu. The manager asked if I needed some little snack to help soak up all that good booze sloshing in my belly. He actually didn’t say it like that, he was very polite. The drink was alright, good enough, for 7.50. If you are at a restaurant with a license to sling booze, you are truly odd man out if you just want a drink. I mean, how many people come to this place you have to drive to and is known for their hibachi and not their cocktails and just get a mixed drink? Not a hell of a lot. They didn’t throw me out, naturally, I was there and it was fine.
I hear good things about the food. That it is a really good hibachi joint and the sushi is good as well. But that is all hearsay. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. It’s about the name. Yummy.
The place is called Yummy. I can’t help myself. I want to mock it. I want to make fun of it. I want to say that that is the dumbest name for a restaurant ever. That is courting so many dismissive comments. It’s an accident waiting to happen.
That’s what I want to do, and I guess I did. But I want to couch it. One is a friend heard I went there and said its cultural. That some Asian places name themselves that way. My friend said the best sushi he ever had was a place in California called Happy Sushi.
The next thing is that I have a bartender friend who says yummy. He will make a complicated cocktail and taste it and say, “That’s yummy.” That’s right, the only person I know who says yummy on a regular basis is referring to coladas and mojito variations.
Maybe we should say it more. Maybe we would be a happier people if grown men and women could go to a place and call it yummy. Were there less wars? Would racial antagonism dissipate and recede like a summer rain? Would be worthy of being yummy in a yummy world?
I heard the food is yummy. The well gin and tonic was basic and just passable, but that’s just a well highball. We are not judging it by its sushi or its hibachi flaming onion. We are judging it on its side effort. It’s a nice place to sit and watch the Keno numbers. Maybe the food is yummy. One would hope.
Until Next Time
Dante of Worcester