One time in 1998 I was invited by my girlfriend’s parents to have lunch in a fancy Italian restaurant. They ordered fish and were going at it with forks and knives like professional surgeons, which they weren’t.
You see, I’m not good with a fork and knife. I’m what the colonizers would have called “a savage”. So, I looked for something to order that I could eat with a spoon.
I ordered a risotto thinking I had outsmarted the menu. But the risotto arrived with a. fork. I barely touched it (the risotto). Told them I was suddenly feeling nauseous and maybe I was pregnant. Tough crowd.
Anyway, the moral of the story is: I now carry a spoon with me wherever I go. You can’t trust restaurants.