Recently, I uncovered a surprising truth about myself: I might be giving compliments all wrong. This revelation emerged during a trip to New Orleans, a city I had long wanted to explore. Known for its vibrant music, delightful cuisine, and abundant beverages, my experience focused primarily on the food—particularly our dinner at the renowned Commander’s Palace.
Commander’s Palace was nothing short of exceptional. It’s the type of establishment where you anticipate a significant expense, yet the quality of both food and service justifies every penny. We were attended to by a trio of servers—two men and a woman—who exhibited remarkable attentiveness and friendliness.
Our server insisted that if I had never sampled turtle soup before, this was the place to do it. She was correct. Instead of the creamy chowder I had imagined, I was treated to a uniquely delicious dish: a rich, reddish-burgundy broth with an impeccable texture and flavor, enhanced by a hint of sherry. Following that, I enjoyed an even more delicious entrée—pan-seared redfish served in an iron skillet—which was simply extraordinary. Everything was flawless.
Then our waitress approached to check on our meal. “How are you enjoying everything so far?” she inquired. To this, I responded, “Just fine.”
This response triggered a flurry of concern from the staff. They quickly summoned colleagues and possibly even consulted management. Apparently, “just fine” doesn’t meet the high expectations at Commander’s Palace, where diners are expected to express that their meals are “incredible beyond compare.”
I had always perceived “fine” as a compliment, indicative of something positive and of high quality. However, perhaps you might agree with the waitress that “just fine” comes across as rather lukewarm. I suppose this lesson should have been learned long ago, much like how romantic partners often interpret “just fine” as anything but satisfactory. My attempts to clarify my initial response fell flat; the staff seemed to believe that if I truly found the meal fantastic, I would have expressed it accordingly.
Fortunately, my partner came to my rescue. She reminded me that just moments prior, I had exclaimed, “This dinner is absolutely amazing!” She pointed out that I often resort to what could be perceived as faint praise when I genuinely mean to convey high admiration. For example, when a friend achieves something significant, I might say, “That’s pretty good!” or after hearing a funny joke, I might respond, “That’s actually kind of funny.”
This became a running joke throughout our stay. As we dined around New Orleans, I consciously told servers that our meals were “just fine” but followed up with exaggerated compliments. “How was your gumbo?” I would start. “Oh, just fine,” I’d say, then add, “In fact, it was the most amazing gumbo I’ve ever had!”
While this strategy carried the risk of being misunderstood as sarcasm—one server seemed to think I was mocking her—it was a useful exercise. Reflecting on this behavior, I wonder if it could stem from cultural tendencies. Some might suggest an Irish or Irish-Catholic inclination toward fatalism, where every high is followed by a low. Perhaps it’s a linguistic defense mechanism.
This leads me to ponder how many other “not bads” and “pretty goods” I’ve expressed when I meant to convey something far more positive. Have I inadvertently mastered the art of understatement and habitual under-praise? With this in mind, I owe some apologies and clarifications:
- To Linda Carter, the CEO of Café Delight: I genuinely love my job and did not mean to imply otherwise when I referred to it as “definitely among the seven or eight best jobs I’ve had in the last 15 years.”
- To Mark Bennett, my fellow co-editor: Your article about your experience at Pret à Manger was not merely “kind of funny” as I suggested; it had me nearly snorting tea through my nose from laughter.
- To the jocks who teased me in school: I won’t just hunt you down; I will defy the laws of physics to do so.
- To the Chrysler Group LLC: The Jeep I’ve driven since 2011 is not “pretty good”; it’s outstanding, despite occasional repair issues.
- To the writer we recently interviewed: I apologize for calling your work “actually quite good,” especially when my voice went up an octave. Your Modern Love pieces were truly exceptional.
- To the weather in New Orleans, which I described as “nice” to a couple from Denver: Your sunny 65-degree days and cool 55-degree nights were the perfect escape from the early winter chill of the Northeast.
In conclusion, this experience has prompted me to reconsider how I express appreciation. It serves as a reminder that language matters and that sometimes, the most valuable things deserve to be recognized fully.
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Summary
This article reflects on the author’s struggle with giving compliments, specifically how his understated expressions may have led to misunderstandings. Through a recent experience at a prestigious restaurant, the author learns the importance of recognizing and articulating positive experiences more vividly. The piece concludes with an examination of cultural influences on language and offers apologies for past understatements.
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