My sister-in-law’s husband was out of town, so we hauled our kids to Valentino’s on Tuesday night, when kids eat free. My kids do not eat free, nor should they. If Val’s gave out free meals to kids as big as mine, they would go broke, even after managing to stick around for 60 years.
When my kids were of the free age, we went to Valentino’s A LOT. We usually picked up Grandma Judy, went to visit Great-Grandma Marvel, then went to Val’s on 27th and Highway 2. Oh, the memories. They used to have the Pasta Bella Lady, who would make any concoction you could think of, right in her little booth. We loved her, her smiley face, and the custom dishes she cooked up for us. The food was always good, but I think we also just liked our happy tradition of going to Val’s on Saturdays. Oh, yeah. Grandma always paid. That was nice, too.
Then they closed our Valentino’s, and started the cattle-feeding station at 70th and VanDorn. Oh, I’m sorry. It’s called the GRAND BUFFET. But it could be the Golden Corral. I feel like the line we’re filing through is like the line of cattle being steered toward the trough full of corn to put on lots of fat, so they’re not stringy, but tender. The first time we went, they even had a space for the tip on our bill, even though we hadn’t even eaten yet. And when we did eat, there was no smiley waitress taking our plates and making small talk, just a laminated tag that told them that, “Yes, we’re filling up at the trough yet again. “ Or, “We have rolled our swollen bodies out to our vehicle.”
Why does the GRAND BUFFET/TROUGH have ribs? Fish? Chinese? I don’t understand.
There is one redeeming quality about the TROUGH. They have real hot fudge. And little m & m’s for my brownie-hot fudge-m & m sundaes. I’ll give them that. Marcus appreciates this condiment so much he has suggested cutting holes in our countertop, and installing hot fudge and caramel containers. I say we wait until we have an ice milk machine, or what is the point?
Oh, yeah. I was talking about the other night when we went to the old, original Val’s on 33rd and Holdrege. I pass it every week when I take Katherine to guitar lessons, and some weeks it is all I can do to drive past it when my stomach is in complete control. I’ve swerved. But never pulled in for a full commitment.
I always start with a BIG salad. No other restaurant serves such a yummy combination of things on their salads. I’ve seen healthier salads, but I don’t go to Val’s to reduce my cholesterol. A meal in itself, really. Maybe that is why I only had half a piece of pizza – Rebecca’s leftovers after she left half her meal on her plate after popping up for the next course. Another Valentino’s buffet phenomenon – who in their right mind would leave pepperoni pizza and a whole breadstick on their plate and look for something better?
Kids go for the smiley-face fries and the mini corn dogs. The only other place I’ve seen corn dogs was in my old school lunches. I never ate one. Not once. They tickle my gag reflex. But my nephew, Hudson, didn’t care how I felt. He ate a whole plate of them.
My little man, Cooper, enjoyed his food so much, we just enjoyed watching him eat his food. A mommy of young children mentioned that Val’s is a good little kid place to eat because they can get up several times. A squirmy little kid could get one thing per trip, increasing the amount of trips, but reducing wiggling when at table.
I suppose I need to wrap this up with a “Moral to the Story.” I like the old, simple Valentino’s, and not the new-fangled, cattle feedlot Valentino’s. I guess that is all I wanted to say.
Years ago, in some study about how men and women communicate, it said women have about 40,000 words a day, and men have 10 (give or take a few). So we shouldn’t be surprised when men come home from work with nothing to say, while a mother with young children has used up no words except “boo-boo” and “bah-bah.”
Sorry, men, that you had to read through 737 words to get to this point.
