Recently I took a friend with only a high school degree to lunch. Insensitively, I led her into a gourmet sandwich shop. Suddenly I saw her face freeze up as she was confronted with sandwiches named “Padrino” and “Pomodoro” and ingredients like soppressata, capicollo and a striata baguette. I quickly asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else and she anxiously nodded yes and we ate Mexican.
That's the kind of story you tell your golfing buddies at the club while you sip your martinis. "And then, Chauncy, I ate something they referred to as 'enchilada'. I've seen Guadalupe make those for my gardener, and I thought, my word--how does one eat this. My uneducated friend gave me, are you ready for this, she gave me a plastic fork. It was charming. Sometimes it's good for the soul to eat among the uneducated. They have such resourcefulness."