I got bamboozled into going to a fancy, schmancy restaurant the other night. It was a client dinner, my treat, and the client got to pick where to eat.

I rarely enjoy a really expensive meal. From the moment I'm seated I'm thinking about the cost. Pricey restaurants make me feel cheap. The menus are thick, the lighting dim and the prices are usually written in a faint script hard to decipher. It's hard to figure what the damage is going to be in advance.

The client chose this particular restaurant because the Obamas had their Valentines dinner there - so it must be good, right?. And the food was indeed delicious, the setting delightful, the service pleasant. But, for me, the prices were distracting. They don't tell you the price on the specials. I couldn't figure if my Pepsi included a free refill. I think I had my hand on my wallet throughout half the meal.

We started with appetizers - investment grade. And then we added green salads. Even though the salads weren't fancy, they priced in at about the cost of 4 heads of lettuce apiece.

The entrees were complex sounding, I got the chicken. The cost of the chicken dish would have bought the 20- piece bucket at Colonel Sanders' with biscuits and a couple sides with money left over for the parfait desserts.

On top of all this, the client ordered a macaroni and cheese side dish for us to split. The macaroni came piping hot in a small deep casserole. Frankly, a half of this "side" was all I would have needed to check off dinner and called myself full. That, and a ten dollar bill and we could call it a night. Our side dish cost the equivalent of 6 or 7 Kraft Dinners as seen on a recent episode of "The Price is Right."

Fancy, schmancy usually calls for dessert and so we had a piece of cake just to help the economy out. Too much food, too late at night, too costly, that was this reviewer's take. "Think of all the groceries this would buy," - that's what I thought when I got the bill.

My wife has spoiled me when it comes to meals and food. She makes it easy, she makes it fresh and she does it economically. Debbie can take whatever is in the cupboard and the fridge and just whip up something interesting. She doesn't need recipes. She cooks seasonal and fresh and with no drama.

I see green peppers on the vine and know that they will soon appear on our plates at home stuffed, or maybe in strips or perhaps grilled. When the tomatoes ripen they appear in salads, on sandwiches or in spaghetti. Deb makes sweet potatoes a meatless feast. She presents new baby white potatoes and peas as though they were exotic delicacies.

I'm used to coming home and peaking in the refrigerator to find marvelous surprises - egg salad or cut up vegetables, grilled chicken strips, fruit cut and drained.

The surprise element is half the enjoyment.

Friday I popped in at noon unexpected and checked the refrigerator to see what was new. There in a little baking dish covered with plastic wrap - a wonderful lunch spread of some kind with egg and chicken.

I whipped out some bread and made myself a sandwich.

Hmmmmm. The texture was different, an acquired taste - but it was good enough for me to get more bread, make a second sandwich and finish it off.

We ate out that particular evening. It turns out I had made sandwiches out of the uncooked casserole destined to be our dinner.

Bon Appetite.