"Ask Daddy."
That's how my mother always responded when I asked, "Can I get fried shrimp?" while in line at Morrison's Cafeteria in downtown Sarasota in the late '50's.
For this elementary school kid, a trip to Morrison's represented the apex of great dining experiences. I knew Morrison's wasn't "fine" dining. I had eaten at the venerable Zinn's, with its soaring rock waterfall in the middle of its dining room; and at the Buccaneer Inn on Longboat Key, where I was awed and a bit frightened by the peg-legged pirate doorman who would open a treasure chest from which children could select after-dinner tchotchkes. Still, Morrison's Cafeteria was infinitely more exciting.
This article appears in May 27 – Jun 2, 2009.