Do women even care what men order in restaurants (barring e.g., vegan women)? Nothing I’ve ordered has ever caused a woman to gasp with pleasure or delight. I think this field of endeavor is a non-starter.

But, there is one way men try to impress women in the food field of endeavor: by cooking for them. But you want to stop short of looking all gay and shit. Steak (or eggplant) on the grill, a green salad, and a baked potato. Ice cream for dessert. The man secure in his masculinity could make creme brulee for dessert, because he could whip out his blowtorch to caramelize it.

You KNOW why. You just also know that naming and acknowledging it is going to make you apoplectic and we don’t have a real solution yet, so you’d just rather not discuss it.

Seinfeld once had a hilarious episode about Jerry, who disliked meat, having to pretend his way through a pile of mutton (eeeech!) to impress a girl because she thought that salad eaters were not “macho.” He ended up stuffing the mutton into the pockets of his jacket—which Elaine borrowed, causing her to be attacked by a dog….etc…etc

Anyhow, I digress. What is even more irritating than the total omission from the article of the fact that meat IS cruelty to animals, is the presumption by the NYT that any unmarried woman is desperate to attract a mate and strains to make “the right impression” in every meaningless facet of contact. And even if that bilge were TRUE, it would all be for naught anyhow. In my experience, most guys don’t even remember your eye color after one date, let alone what you ordered. Guys are not big on details.

And all those “Happily ever after” stories about how former female veggies snagged their hunks with hamburgers, truly made me sick. The “statement” you are making by ordering a burger is that you don’t give a damn about animal suffering and probably don’t much care about humans, either. These couples deserve each other.

My ex-husband thought it was awesome that I ate so much (he didn’t realize that he was feeding two of course).

We ended up married, so maybe there is some truth to this theory…

Of course, we also ended up divorced….

So, my answer is… order whatever the heck you want. And if you are at the point where you are so worried about finding “The One” that you are analyzing your menu choices… time to take a big deep breath and rethink things.

Awww, man! Now I want a steak salad. With a nice vinaigrette and a handful of gorgonzola on top. And it’s still another hour till dinnertime.

We really, really need to develop realistic androids already, so people too emotionally stunted to figure out the factors that actually figure into compatibility can just program their settings in, and no organics will be harmed.

Well, there are always Real Dolls.

Well, it’s 20 years later, and now I’m really the fatty that I only thought I was then, and he’s still around.

I double-dawg DARE the NYT to do a piece on how het guys find packing by gals attractive. And I don’t mean guns.

Seriously, I want to see an article complete with shopping links and photos and a main headline that says “Pack Em In: Gals Who have a Dick Bigger than His and the High Earners who Love Them.”

That way, I can scratch my balls while eating my 72-oz porterhouse. I’ll be married in less than a year!