June 14, 2003
We were late, which is normal with us. On this particular evening we are late in Paris. I become quiet and angry and he becomes distant. I will sit in the cab and knit with my irritation on my lap and he will remove himself. Later he will manifest some form of anger himself, which further irritates me as it is usually him who makes us late. We are standing outside the hotel waiting for our cab to take us to a gastronomic dinner which will be overpriced and disappointing. We will sit in the airless dining room with layers of tablecloths draped on the lower half of our bodies, which further increases the sensation of being tortured as an endless parade of dishes that seem to have been concocted for some sort of fine dining baby food company come to the table in furious succession. The late evening is churning its light into dark. It happens later here in spring and summer. I miss this about European summers. I like to remind myself how much further north we are. Outside the hotel as we wait an American couple walk down the middle of the street hand in hand. They are the age of recent grandparents, still handsome and brown with the tans of an early spring spent traveling in Europe.
“You were the strong one.”
I overhear him say this to her as I am suppressing the urge to run away from my mate and an evening of fine dining. Her posture is memorable. She is tall and straight and her yellow dress accentuates the strength and vertical line of her back. It is perfectly obvious that she is the strong one. But what in particular was she strong about, what in their life together required the most strength? I don’t want another ten course tasting menu, I want a saucisson sandwich with un peu du beurre and an Affligem. Was she strong about his philandering, about illness, about money or the lack of it, about a child lost or gone astray, about there not being children? There was comfort in his remark, not just in the compliment, but in the suggestion that this part of their life was over. That now they were walking down the rue Saint Benoit hand in hand on a late spring evening and she was wearing a yellow dress that was not beautiful but that flattered her tan and her bones that were not ravaged by osteoporosis.
When we escape from our gastronomic inquisition our fury with each other will have dissipated into relief. We don’t have to eat any more and the air is cool as we walk down the bright acid glare of the Champs Elysees.
Why are ordinary lunches and randomly-visited eateries more memorable than the epicurean extravaganzas? Perhaps it's not just the simplicity and lack of pretense, but the great pleasure of surprise. Four of us found a simple place in Blois at random and I had a Lyonnais lentil-and-potato salad which was offered "with or without herring filets." (With, bien sur) That was ten years ago, and I would rather return there than to the frigid silence and starched formality of some of the three-star palaces.
I find that there are more miss's than hits in the high end but when they are on they are ON, but the simpler food rocks....this year on of my fav meals was Asados Nazareno in Roa, Spain, 5 items on the menu (except there is no menu) Baked Lamb, Blood Sausage, Potato, Lettuce, Flan....
We did have the most wonderful meal at L'Astrance, so I shouldn't damn the gastronomic thing entirely. L'Astrance seems to get even better. We had the most beautiful soup of yellow courgettes, a blob of black olives and a blob of mozzarella. It was a beautiful abstract painting that made my taste buds jiggle. Then you can go and nap under the Eiffel Tower.
Jacob Halper and I had a great meal there in 02......
Do you know you're a Google Whack?
How so?
And what that is?
A google whack is a combination of two words which, when searched for in google (w/out quotes,) returns exactly one result.
Well that's kind of an honor huh?
I tried several possible combinations from the post(s) above and gave up.
Well, if you use quotes then "gastronomic inquisition" works. I guess there is some debate about whether that counts or not.
Yes, I have too much time on my hands.
LOL! That's the first thing I tried, too--but since you only whack it when you use quotes, I assumed it was a no-go. (Sans quotes you get this.)
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We were late, which is normal with us. On this particular evening we are late in Paris. I become quiet and angry and he becomes distant. I will sit in the cab and knit with my irritation on my lap and he will remove himself. Later he will manifest some form of anger himself, which further irritates me as it is usually him who makes us late. We are standing outside the hotel waiting for our cab to take us to a gastronomic dinner which will be overpriced and disappointing. We will sit in the airless dining room with layers of tablecloths draped on the lower half of our bodies, which further increases the sensation of being tortured as an endless parade of dishes that seem to have been concocted for some sort of fine dining baby food company come to the table in furious succession. The late evening is churning its light into dark. It happens later here in spring and summer. I miss this about European summers. I like to remind myself how much further north we are. Outside the hotel as we wait an American couple walk down the middle of the street hand in hand. They are the age of recent grandparents, still handsome and brown with the tans of an early spring spent traveling in Europe.
“You were the strong one.”
I overhear him say this to her as I am suppressing the urge to run away from my mate and an evening of fine dining. Her posture is memorable. She is tall and straight and her yellow dress accentuates the strength and vertical line of her back. It is perfectly obvious that she is the strong one. But what in particular was she strong about, what in their life together required the most strength? I don’t want another ten course tasting menu, I want a saucisson sandwich with un peu du beurre and an Affligem. Was she strong about his philandering, about illness, about money or the lack of it, about a child lost or gone astray, about there not being children? There was comfort in his remark, not just in the compliment, but in the suggestion that this part of their life was over. That now they were walking down the rue Saint Benoit hand in hand on a late spring evening and she was wearing a yellow dress that was not beautiful but that flattered her tan and her bones that were not ravaged by osteoporosis.
When we escape from our gastronomic inquisition our fury with each other will have dissipated into relief. We don’t have to eat any more and the air is cool as we walk down the bright acid glare of the Champs Elysees.
- rachael 6-14-2003 6:58 pm
Why are ordinary lunches and randomly-visited eateries more memorable than the epicurean extravaganzas? Perhaps it's not just the simplicity and lack of pretense, but the great pleasure of surprise. Four of us found a simple place in Blois at random and I had a Lyonnais lentil-and-potato salad which was offered "with or without herring filets." (With, bien sur) That was ten years ago, and I would rather return there than to the frigid silence and starched formality of some of the three-star palaces.
- bruno 6-14-2003 7:41 pm [add a comment]
I find that there are more miss's than hits in the high end but when they are on they are ON, but the simpler food rocks....this year on of my fav meals was Asados Nazareno in Roa, Spain, 5 items on the menu (except there is no menu) Baked Lamb, Blood Sausage, Potato, Lettuce, Flan....
- Skinny 6-15-2003 1:50 am [add a comment]
We did have the most wonderful meal at L'Astrance, so I shouldn't damn the gastronomic thing entirely. L'Astrance seems to get even better. We had the most beautiful soup of yellow courgettes, a blob of black olives and a blob of mozzarella. It was a beautiful abstract painting that made my taste buds jiggle. Then you can go and nap under the Eiffel Tower.
- rachael 6-15-2003 7:04 pm [add a comment]
Jacob Halper and I had a great meal there in 02......
- Skinny 6-16-2003 6:36 am [add a comment]
Do you know you're a Google Whack?
- Liz Robinson (guest) 10-22-2003 1:00 pm [add a comment]
How so?
- jim 10-22-2003 6:33 pm [add a comment]
And what that is?
- jimlouis 10-22-2003 8:58 pm [add a comment]
A google whack is a combination of two words which, when searched for in google (w/out quotes,) returns exactly one result.
- jim 10-22-2003 9:54 pm [add a comment]
Well that's kind of an honor huh?
- jimlouis 10-23-2003 1:32 am [add a comment]
I tried several possible combinations from the post(s) above and gave up.
- tom moody 10-23-2003 1:54 am [add a comment]
Well, if you use quotes then "gastronomic inquisition" works. I guess there is some debate about whether that counts or not.
Yes, I have too much time on my hands.
- jim 10-23-2003 2:53 am [add a comment]
LOL! That's the first thing I tried, too--but since you only whack it when you use quotes, I assumed it was a no-go. (Sans quotes you get this.)
- tom moody 10-23-2003 3:05 am [add a comment]