Fancy Schmancy

Lovely Rinquir

This past weekend a group of besties and I (as well as Melinda!) took a little gourmet tour up to Alsace. France itself feels like a feminine country. The architecture prides itself on ornate, cutesy details, and the people are very moody. Happy and boyant one minute and rather closed off and irritated the next. You never know what you are going to get….that cosmopolitan business or the laid back, rural quietness.

There are just some things that go better with girlfriends. Brownies. Tapas. Sampling ANYTHING. Window strolling. Stationary. and, in my experience, michelin star restaurants. and maybe taking snap shots of the things we eat…

So I felt amped up in anticipation upon our decision to eat at a lovely suburban country Michelin star restaurant with my foodie gal pals. But somehow, our jubliant attitude dissipated within a minute of sitting down. As a group, we all were pretty hyper and chatty up until then, but the high brow decor and the presentation of the staff made up all feel a little, well awkward.

A lovely homemade ricotta dip and homemade breadsticks

Waves of being super sad rose and fall through the first 30 minutes because of the snobbery of the staff. They wouldn’t let us order wine until we ordered our meal selections and when I inquired about the type of the amuse bouche, the waiter chastised me that I would be told only after finishing my foie gras. HA! Now a funny memory, then, not so much. I do have to say that my fish with homemade gnocchi was lovely

and it was a little fun flirting with the table side crepes suzette chef

then we got charged $50! for digestifs with our dessert. OUTRAGEOUS to pay so much for so little food (although tasty) and a sense of being snubbed….I am taking the rest of the year, off, thank you very much from Michelin Star Restaurants.

One experience that I became aware of…I am getting a bit tired of all food photography. In some ways, it distances me from the nourishment and experience of the moment. Looking back through my albums, I can’t taste those creme brulees, and I can’t experience my anxiety or my doubt (is this crepe suzette REALLY worth the $25???) or my pleasure (well, yes, yes it was!)….A group of us drank a lot of wine at this little wine bar and delighted in cheese and salmon and lentils…and yes, this lovely chocolate almond torte.

But what I what to convey is how alive I felt, how loving, and free and connected. Which this little piece of cake, shared 6 ways, tasted like, the affirmation of my friend “this is good, but the birthday cake K made me was better…”

That is K’s new fancy schmancy, michelin star….earned.

 

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3 thoughts on “Fancy Schmancy

  1. Thanks for sharing, K. Sounds like a learning experience. Prentention breeds disapointment because it precludes appreciation and humility. Nothing tastes better than that served and consumed with appreciation (for the chef and for the diner).

  2. Good food may be one thing, but good service is another. I hate to say it, but there’s this stereotype of the French being snobby. I don’t like that. I want to order my wine when I want to. Because in the end, I’m the one who pays the bill.

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