Pressing question: How many times is too many to return to the Salad Bar in a very nice restaurant with a very nice Salad Bar?

This question came up yesterday as Jane and I were having an early dinner on our drive back from New York City. We didn’t plan to be among the “Early Bird” senior citizen contingent. It just happened that way. It was 5:00. We had been in the City all afternoon. The traffic on Rt. 95 was on the fringe of a nightmare. And we were starving.

There is a great restaurant right off the highway. Exit 11 in Connecticut. Been there many times in similar circumstances, but never as an Early Bird. Yesterday, as Jane and I took our seats, a very nice young waiter handed us a bunch of menus, including the specials and the Early Bird. He even smiled and made a funny little joke about all the menus. Jane and I laughed at his genuinely funny little joke and then studied the menus like ravenous animals.

Each selection came with the famous Salad Bar.

We ordered. We headed to the Salad Bar with its fresh selections of greens. Selections, as in more than ice berg. Then the overflowing delights of multiple veggies. And fresh bread. And soup. And nuts and croutons and shredded cheese and bacon bits and dressings all cold and inviting and clean and wonderful.

We returned to our table and devoured our voluminous salads. We weren’t ashamed. At all.

Until we both had the same idea. Another trip to the Salad Bar. OK. Should we? I mean, we had filled our salad bowls and eaten like we had never eaten before… and there were not many people in the restaurant at this early hour. It wasn’t like we could blend with the other diners and pretend to be making our first trip to the Salad Bar. Hmmmm. We wondered whether to use our same bowl or get a fresh one. Where is the list of Salad Bar rules, anyway. We decided to leave our old bowls and get new ones.

We returned to the scene of the crocks of wonder and took fresh bowls from the piles of bowls. And, we discovered, very conspicuously. We could hear our footsteps and and our short little breaths and the clink of the serving spoons as we filled our second bowl. We avoided eye contact with the nice people who were working the Salad Bar. We tried to silence our Salad bar noises and our footsteps that were becoming more and more thunderous. Was everyone watching?

Back at our table, we noticed immediately that our old bowls had been removed. Was that a hint that seconds are inappropriate and we are pigs?

Oh, well. We devoured our second bowls. When our dinners arrived, I couldn’t help but ask our nice young waiter if seconds are acceptable. He smiled his giant smile and said, “Oh, yes. It’s all-you-can-eat!”

All-you-can-eat? You mean, etiquette would have allowed a third, fourth or even fifth visit to this exquisite Salad Bar?

Could I have mustered the nerve to do that? Would you? Dish me some of your Salad Bar Etiquette!