Monday Meandering - 7.7.2014

Technology is encroaching into our everyday lives. Yesterday we stopped at a Chili's for lunch, and on every table was a little battery operated interactive terminal. Sort of like your cell phone, it was there to entertain you with games and news, and the daily specials, of course.

But do you see the little bulge on the right-hand side? That's the credit card reader. When we got ready to leave, we tapped the screen appropriately and our check came up in detail, with instructions to swipe a card. I did, and a screen appeared to facilitate the tipping process (it will even split the check, if you need to do so). Once the tip is figured in, you have multiple receipt choices, including a printed slip that feeds out below the screen.

Though it may soon, the Chili's device does not take your order, unlike the kiosks being installed at Panera's.

Order, pay, and take the pager to your table. The table is already wired to tell the staff where you are sitting, and the folks who previously took orders now deliver your food. So far, our Panera's only has "smart tables" and no kiosks, but they are coming.

Technology-assisted menus are not so very new, though. Nearly fifty years ago, the Towne Crier Steakhouse opened on Highway 80 in Abilene, featuring an electrical menu board. There was a limited selection of steaks offered, and at the beginning of the the buffet-style line, you picked your meal by pushing buttons beside your choice of steak, indicating to the cooks with lighted buttons what you ordered and how it was to be cooked. The restaurant is still there. I am told the menu board, however, is no longer operational.

On the subject of dining, while we were in California we went to one of those Japanese-style restaurants where the chef slices and dices and cooks your meal at your table.

It's a pretty stylized eating experience; first the chef astounds us with his ability to twirl sharp knives, tongs and spatulas, then he proceeds to cook the meal, one course at a time, on the hot cooking surface that we are seated around. Somewhere along the way, each table gets to enjoy, and I use that term loosely, the flaming onion volcano.

Our chef was pretty conservative with his pyrotechnics; the dude at the adjacent table decided to test the fire-suppression system.

I heard the next morning that there was a wildfire in our area. I'm pretty sure it was caused sparks from a flaming onion volcano. Order that on your kiosk!