The kids cos-playing Republicans at the hotel.
I really try too hard. I try to do too much, too fast, too everything. But damn it, someone has to give this sorry-ass-ragtag-dysfunctional family a nice Thanksgiving!
My siblings aren’t speaking to me, and that’s all I can say about that. So, it’s us and Mom for the holiday. (Thanksgiving is my side, Christmas is Paul’s famiglia. Marital code 3471.2)
Thinking about last year, another too-much-too-soon fatigue fest, I decided to stay closer to home and go full luxury.
KOHLER. The American Club. Ooooooooooohhhhhh. Oooo la la. Or should I say “uh oh”?
I should have known when we walked through a gaggle of investment bros in Patagonia vests in the lobby…what was I thinking? Ok, so it’s a bit stuffy and outdated, but it will be comfortable and relaxing…
Our room’s power went out. And got fixed. And went out. And got fixed. And went out again. I have a powered medical device I need to use twice a day. This was not good. But no other rooms near the kids and Grandma were available until the next day.
Our four spa appointments, tediously made three weeks before on an online platform as complicated as a tax form, were lost. I had meticulously planned for three pedicures at the same time, and then a facial for myself alone. Nothing, not in the system. And no openings at all.
Ok, let’s try the pool. It was quite nice actually, and we LOVED the free shuttle van. I have to install a sauna in our basement now.
We were a bit frazzled, and my side effects were in full revenge-mode, even after a nice swim. So, we were hoping for a special, delicious, wonderful Thanksgiving meal to save the holiday. I had made reservations for the Wisconsin Room Thanksgiving by recommendation of Kohler staff —we wanted to have a sit down meal where we could all chat comfortably, even with hearing loss (vs the Thanksgiving Grand Buffet option). It was something to look forward to. It’s The American Club, it’s fancy schmancy, it’s KOHLER.
The food was served in…pans? Like…pans. Not sizzling fajita pans (still the height of exciting and fancy in my 12 year old memory), not elegant oval au gratin pans, not a hot cast iron skillet (would have loved a Hot Brown), not even ramekins…pans. Like roasting pans. Think mini lasagnas. Also, actual lasagnas would have been great.
The pans had high sides, making it impossible to properly cut the food. We hacked vertically at the filets, glancing around at other tables to see if we were missing something. Like plates.
The pans were cold so the steak was also cold. I have a dodgy right arm and Mom is 80, so the strange pans were even more awkward for us, but I can’t imagine anyone being able to satisfactorily slice their green beens in those silly things.
They served the boring side dishes family style, which was hilarious—-still no plates! The mashed potatoes, sprouts and stuffing had to go in the PANS. I’m a snob. At a white tablecloth restaurant, for a meal that outrageously expensive, I want my food on a plate.
It’s KOHLER. They literally make PORCELAIN.