W got some very good news tonight-- a great job offer! It's nice to know that it still happens, that someone in France is being hired. I know so many unemployed people right now. The economy is morose. Maybe this year will be the turning point!
The contract isn't signed yet, but the news came through this evening. W called up at 8 p.m., and we went out to celebrate at a very nice restaurant. We started off with champagne, comme il se doit!
Unfortunately the service was leisurely, not to call it slow,
and I hadn't eaten all day, so I foolishly ate bread before the first course arrived, which is a terrible faux pas in France (you are supposed to wait till your main course, I believe; but please correct me if I'm wrong, les français de l'équipe). I wasn't even able to eat all of my plat principal, which followed the most delicious foie gras grillé that I have ever eaten. It had some sort of cinnamon sauce on it, which sounds awful, but was so delicious.
The waiter looked appalled when he came to take my plate with most of the fish still on it. He circled around the table in his purple shirt. I tried to be deep in conversation, but I could not avoid the inevitable. He just stood there, waiting, till I looked up.
"The fish did not please you, madame?" (If you are a Wodehouse fan, imagine Jeeves asking. Eyebrows halfway over his head.)
The fact is, the fish wasn't as good as the other dishes, and there was a lot of it. The sauce was bof, and I discovered that if you don't like endives, caramelized ones don't taste better. I had tried in vain to hide some of the fish under the other half.
"It was good," I said (damning with faint praise). "Good, but just a bit....thick."
"Thick?" the waiter said. He looked severely at the fish.
"Thick," I said firmly.
"Very thick," said W, nodding.
The waiter took the plate away. Two other waiters gathered around him and all three of them stood there looking at the fish. "C'est un peu...épais." I imagined the word "épais" reverberating into the farthest reaches of the kitchen.
As it turned out, the famous chef, the one who has made the restaurant renowned, was exceptionellement not there tonight. Perhaps luckily for me.
For dessert, D had a black truffle ice cream with flourless chocolate cookies curled over it. Here's a photo.
Dinner cost more than 300 euros. I was very glad I wasn't paying. But W still looked happy as he said good night.
Wow that dessert looks scrumptious... too bad about the fish. Last time I went out to such a nice restaurant, my food was cold, and when my husband told the waiter, you would have thought WE were supposed to be serving HIM.
Posted by: Sammy | 19 January 2006 at 10:19
Hello hello,
two comments :
First, the bread : I think you're not supposed to eat bread before the first meal...but a lot of french people do it even in expensive end "chic" restaurants because they serve you very good varieties of bread, and in the best restaurants, with good butter (in really good restaurants you even have butter with salt from brittany). It's obviously on your table to be eaten and to make you wait for your meal.
Two, the waiter : the man who represents french arrogance in your country ! There's just one rule : more the restaurant is expensive, more you can behave as you like ! If you think the fish isn't that good, tell them. It will embarrass them, they will be (perhaps) resentful but they will do whan they can to make you forget a bad dish. Of course, you have a problem : they will think that you didn't like the fish because you're american and you don't know anything about good "cuisine"... What the hell ! A rude waiter is the very sign of a bad restaurant.
You cannot imagine how my boss can torture a bad waiter or what he obtains from a restaurant which is not as good as it pretends to be.
From Sedulia: Merci, Zardoz! Actually, the waiter was quite correct once he realized the food just did not taste good. I think they were blaming it on the replacement chef! I agree with you that a rude waiter is a bad sign. On the whole, though, I think French waiters are very professional, not like most American waiters-- who sometimes sit down at the table with you or tell you all their personal problems!
Posted by: Zardoz | 19 January 2006 at 15:16