A steakhouse visit turns into a fun lesson in survival and etiquette. 

Here’s how it all unfolded…

A Steakhouse Survival Story 

Tuesday's Featured Story - 10/21/25

There we were - Roger and I - dining at Mon Ami Gabi, a stunning steakhouse tucked inside the Paris Hotel in Las Vegas. Think white tablecloths, black-suited waiters with napkins draped over their arms, and a vibe so classy it practically whispered: “Don’t embarrass me.”

We ordered drinks, soaked in the romantic ambiance, and prepared for a meal worthy of a food blog photo shoot. I went full carnivore: a bone-in 16 oz ribeye, medium-rare, with whipped garlic potatoes. Roger? Same side dish, but his steak - brace yourself - well done.

The waiter didn’t say a word, but his eyes screamed “Nooooo!” like a silent soap opera. I felt it. He felt it. The steak felt it.

Then came the moment. The drinks were refreshed, then the steaks arrived. The waiter turned to leave, and Roger - my beloved, my ketchup-loving partner said:

“Oh, can you please bring me ketchup?”

I cringed. I wanted to dive under the table, fake a phone call, or pretend I was just a tourist who wandered in. The waiter’s eyes bulged. His soul left his body. He looked at me with a mix of shock and sympathy, and I did the only thing I could:

“None for me, thank you.”

He smiled. A knowing smile. A “you’re not the problem here” smile. He returned with the ketchup, placed it on the table like a cursed artifact, and walked away without another word.

Back home, I told a friend who happens to be a ketchup fanatic and he didn’t see the issue. I explained the sacred rule: you don’t ask for ketchup at a fine steakhouse. He offered a workaround:

“Just order fries with your steak.”

Cute idea. But let’s be honest - fries with your steak at a fancy steakhouse like Mon Ami Gabi? That’s like wearing flip-flops to a black-tie gala! To me, it’s basically a crime waiting to be tried!

 

Condiment Courtroom Rating Meter™

Verdict Rating     Description Hung Jury 1/5  Confusing flavor choices, no clear condiment       convictions. Mistrial 2/5 Some laughs, but the sauce didn’t stick. Guilty Pleasure 3/5 Entertaining with questionable taste—like ketchup on eggs. Flavor Felony 4/5 Bold, hilarious, and nearly perfect. Condiment Conviction 5/5 Slam-dunk storytelling. Judge Mustard approves.

FEATURE STORY BONUS:

Welcome to the condiment courtroom, where ketchup faces trial

Like most people, I have my quirks too, and when in a classy restaurant I simply follow the unwritten rules. Ketchup on steak? No ... Just NO! This isn’t weird - it’s just me being me! It’s my condiment integrity.

Get to know the Characters in the Condiment Courtroom:

Judge Mustard

Title: Chief Justice of the Condiment Court

The Personality: Stern and colorful, believes in flavor & ketchup boundaries.

Signature line: “Order in the court - and on the steak!”

Fun Fact: Once threw out a case, because the plaintiff confused Dijon with yellow. “Flavor misidentification is a mistrial.” On a side note: Judge Mustard keeps a tiny bottle of horseradish in his robe for emergencies.

Bailiff Ranch

Title: Bailiff of the Condiment Court

Personality: Silent but Salty - quietly judging everyone’s dipping habits. All Ranch-No nonsense.

Signature Line: “Keep it clean - or I’ll confiscate your fry basket.”

Fun Fact: Was removed from a party security detail, after tackling someone -  for double-dipping.

 

Ketchup Bandit

Role: Defendant on trial for culinary overreach - accused of appearing on Steak & other foods where he’s neither invited nor welcome.

Personality: Nervous but defiant. Thinks he’s beloved by all, but cracks under pressure when questioned about steak, eggs, and hot hogs

Signature line: “I go where I’m squeezed, don’t blame me for your poor taste.”

Fun Fact: Once tried to sneak into a Michelin-starred tasting menu disguised as tomato foam. The Executive Chef called security.

 

BBQ Betty Esq. & Associates

Role: Defense attorney for rogue condiments, specializes in defending condiments that go on food in which they don’t belong.

Personality: Sultry and unapologetic, always trying to justify a smokey presence

Signature lines: “If it clings to meat and makes mouths water, I’ll fight for it.”  And “Every rogue drizzle deserves a fair trial.”

Fun Fact: Filed a 12-page appeal when someone used ketchup on steak - and was sentenced to life without parole.

 

Mayo, Associate

Title: Associate with BBQ Betty Esq. & Associates  

Personality: Smooth & always prepared to cover anything.

Signature Line: “I don’t make waves - I emulsify them!”

Fun Fact: Once filed a motion to ban Aioli and redacted an entire transcript when someone said “aioli” instead of “mayonnaise.

To my fan base: Confess your food quirks & defend your condiments - or throw them under the bus in the comments section! This is a safe space for Condiment Criminals, Sauce Sinners, Dip Defendants and Gravy Gremlins. Speak your mind - All condiment confessions & quirks will be entered into the official record - unless they’re too saucy for public consumption!