I have a recurring family that tends to consistently saunter into the restaurant about 30 minutes before closing on weekend evenings. This would normally drive me nutty but they are prompt and courteous and don't choose to stay till after midnight watching the Martini Park freak show across the street.
The parents are Indian as is the daughter but she married a passively Kosher Jewish guy. The first couple of times in the were kind enough to explain their dietary restrictions and preferences. No beef for the parents, the daughter is vegetarian, and no pork for the son-in-law. When they came in last Saturday we exchanged pleasantries and they started to reiterate the restrictions again. I stopped the daughter short and completed the run down for her. "Wow" she exclaimed! You remembered. "Of course" I said. "You guys are my Indi(an)Jew(ish)(Veg)atarian table." They all paused and digested this title for a moment and the responded with laughter and acceptance. They did ask if they we so noted in our reservation system. I assured them that not everyone would find it quite as amusing as we did.
Bring on the League of Nations.
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