Million dollar dinner?

Have you been following along?

If not, get caught up here:

Part I

Part II

Because today ends the trilogy you won’t want to miss.

-The conclusion has pirates.

-A treasure cave.

-And pigs ears.

And for those of you building and monetizing your email list, there’s buried treasure ahead, just for you.

We were back on the road.

The poo was safely buried on what we now referred to as Poo Island.

After covering our tracks, so to speak, we had quickly packed up the fishing gear and hustled the family back across the rock bridge.

We loaded people and gear into the car and drove away from the lake, feeling vaguely like we’d gotten away with something.

“I know!” I suddenly exclaimed.

“I’ll leave an anonymous Google review of the trailhead, hinting at buried treasure on the island! Arrr!”

I slid into a pirate accent towards the end of the statement, as dads are able to do.

The kids laughed.

My wife groaned.

“Let’s figure out what we’re doing for dinner,” she countered.

It was 5 PM. We were all a little hungry. And our GPS app informed us that there was an accident on the highway, extending our drive home to at least 2 hours.

“Let’s find somewhere to go up here,” I suggested.

She groaned again.

Taking 7 kids out to dinner in a ski town was risky, for a number of reasons.

“Search Yelp for a list of kid friendly restaurants,” I suggested.

I reasoned that this should filter out the DINK filled bistros with white tablecloths and servers named Fritz.

A moment later she had a list of options.

“Barbecue? Small plate? or Pizza?” she asked.

I hesitated.

Pizza was the easy option. Most of the kids would eat it, and a pizza place should be kid and budget friendly…

But eww. I did not personally feel like pizza.

“Small plate,” I said.

That should work.

Appetizers.

Tapas.

Something for everyone.

And it was the #2 most kid friendly place in town, according to Yelp.

Minutes later we pulled into a parking spot in front of the strip mall where the “small plate” restaurant was located.

I saw a sign or the eatery with an arrow pointing down a set of stairs.

“Down below,” the sign said.

As we unloaded the kids, I heard a howl and a scream.

It sounded like a toddler.

I stepped on to the top of the stairs and looked over the edge.

A man and woman were walking quickly to a European SUV, the man carrying a screaming small child under one arm.

“This must be the place,” I told my wife.

The menu was more adventurous than I’d expected.

-Charred Spanish Octopus

-Spicy Tuna Tater Tots

-Crispy Thai Pigs Ear

“For the kids, we have either mac and cheese or chicken tenders,” the server told us.

“Two mac and cheeses,” my wife said, nodding at the 3 year old and 6 year old sitting with the two of us.

I glanced up at the other table where our older kids were sitting.

“Pick whatever you want,” I mouthed at my oldest son while gesturing at their table.

Just then, a man who I presumed was the owner came over.

“…and here’s our drink menu for this evening! Grown up options on the front, kid options on the back.”

He set a drink menu on each of our tables and smiled.

I took in his appearance…

Other than the fact that he had two legs, two hands and two eyes, he looked like a pirate.

In fact, the entire restaurant had a “pirate cave” vibe to it…

Dark, brick walls, partially underground…

“Thanks!” I said as he turned and walked away.

Later, the food arrived.

The Kid Table had ordered real food instead of mac and cheese or chicken tenders.

I smiled, beaming with pride.

The server handed them each a plate.

And then handed them each a lemonade.

As I took my first bite, I was surprised by how spicy the dish was.

I looked around.

The kids were all fanning their mouths, breathing heavily, or gulping lemonade.

All of the dishes were spicy. ALL of them.

(Well, except the mac and cheese the two smallest ones were eating.)

Good thing I was drinking water…

15 minutes into the eating, I noticed a second (third?) round of lemonades delivered to the Kid Table.

Most of them had eaten half of their surprisingly spicy dinner.

Not bad, I thought.

Even so, the leftovers ended up filling 4 takeout boxes.

And then, the pirates struck.

Our server might as well have placed a blade against my throat.

She handed me the bill.

I had done some quick mental math, and knew this was going to be more than we typically spent.

But I was way off.

The bottom line number hit me like a cannonball.

I blinked.

I scanned the itemized bill.

$8 lemonades?

Each one of those lemonades was $8 each?

Holy moly.

We’d consumed an above-average car payment for dinner.

And that was before tip.

As I was catching my breath, I noticed another party being seated nearby.

4 kids in tow, each one plugged into a tablet with headphones…

The #2 most kid friendly place in town, according to Yelp.

I laughed.

This entire operation was a designed to plunder the treasure of affluent travelers with kids.

Unexpectedly spicy food, $8 lemonades.

Garrrr.

Even though I am still reeling from the plundering in that cave, I have a cool admiration for our pirate hosts.

Instead of filling their eatery with Happy Hour hunting riffraff, or locals holding 10% off coupon post cards, they chose their victims carefully.

The #2 most kid friendly place in town, according to Yelp.

This way, they brought in a very specific, lucrative group of diners.

Quality over quantity.

And this is so important. For me and for you.

Many of you are running your list like a pizza place.

Making it warm and inviting for everyone.

Giving away free appetizers and free refills, then wondering why people don’t order much food.

I hate to be the one who tells you this, but the pirate cave makes more money with less effort.

They know exactly who they want, and they cast a carefully crafted net to draw them in.

Shooting fish in a barrel.

With $8 lemonades.

Garrr.

Sea'n you later,

Greg

P.S. Did you enjoy the tale I spun this week? Want me to do this kind of thing for you, or want to learn to do it yourself?