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I very much enjoyed the article on typos in menus this moning. IMO we're lucky to have Jane Black writing in this town. Earlier in the week a nice piece on the Aspen Food & Wine Fest and then the whole animal piece and menu typo piece today. All very different but entertaining food related articles. Keep up the good work Jane!!

I like finding typos on menus and don't mind the poor spelling and grammar at all. It makes me feel better about myself than those lowly, uneducated restaruant people : ) "Fetch me a drink. Can't you spell!??!?"

Don't make me eat a shit take.

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Lalibela, which are wonderful Ethiopian restaurants, makes sure that you know which dishes have row beef. It's not a typo, it's on the menu half a dozen times. Lord knows I like my little beefs all in a row.

Bear in mind, the Jane Black piece in the Post caveated that ethnic menus don't really count. I'd eat mescaline greens, btw.

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In today's Post: "...I am irritated when public figures...use the term 'at the end of the day.' ...I feel nauseous when I hear the term used..."

Uh huh. Why am I thinking something about sinning and casting stones? And does the Post have real live editors anymore?

I feel nauseated.

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Favorite Chinese restaurant name: Wonton Desire

At first I was just going to respond to your post with a smiley face, because it made me laugh. But then I noticed your cat and well, ...maybe our cats need to go to that restaurant together. :lol:

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I don't mind the occasional misspelled word on menus. A lot of the time, they provide me with a chuckle rather than a scowl.

There are tons of misspellings in newspapers, TV news programs, Sportscenter, books, magazines and the rest of mainstream media outlets that I see and don't particularly mind either...and they are created by paid writers and are appoved by professional editors. I think that they are entirely more embarrassing.

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My dad and I always look forward to the typos. Some of them are pretty funny. We still talk about the veal palmigian.

When I lived in Greenwich Village in the late 60's there was a much beloved, very affordable soul food café called The Pink Teacup, where I frequently ate. I always looked forward to seeing the menu item--Veal Pamigimer--though I never ordered it. [A good friend of mine's stepfather was a meatcutter, and he warned me against eating cheap "veal cutlets," which he explained were made from ground up scrap and gristle. If I'm going to eat ears, noses and tails I prefer that they be served honestly.] At The Pink Teacup, I usually ordered fried chicken, smothered pork chops, mixed greens and/or corn fritters, which were massive, crisply fried and served with maple syrup. Did I mention it was cheap, as well as delicious? And that the older African-American ladies who staffed the place hailed from someplace in the Deep South and were always welcoming and full of warm endearments for the customers, most of whom were penurious actors and writers-- How you doin', baby? Whatcha gonna eat, darlin'? Cue the soundtrack--"Mem-ries, like the corners of my mind, misty watercolor me-em-ries..."

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