Well fed, happy and satisfied
I feel remiss; it's been too long since I've written. I have made a commitment to write each Friday as a part of my regular routine - so many people have been asking for installments.
With the opening of Cinghiale followed by the holidays and then my January trip to France with key Charleston and Petit Louis staff, I have found I do have a few stories to tell.
Here's a brief story about managing expectations and oneself in regards to restaurant visits - and also about treatment.
In France we were 7 in total traveling from the Southern Rhone Valley up the valley and eventually to Beaune in a day. About mid-way is Côte-Rôtie and we had visits with Ogier before lunch and Jamet (fabulous wines) after lunch - along with a long philosophical discussion on what is wrong with the modern wine business and wine-making for critics.
Lunch was at La Pyramide, which had been recently redone and apparently had an innovative young chef. The restaurant has two Michelin stars. If you know French culinary lore this was the restaurant of Fernand Point (who was considered the "Godfather" of sorts of modern French food in the 50's and 60's). Many chefs now considered true culinary deans (Bocuse, Troisgros brothers, etc.), came through his kitchen.
The room was modernish, expressive and lovely, especially if you are fond of giant monochromatic fruit paintings. The cooking was this wanna-be-modern-and-technical sort of stuff like Brittany Lobster and Papaya with Espelette peppers. Sorry, if you try this you better get it done - not ok otherwise. Not successful. The cooking was neither thoughtful or as technical or proficient as one would expect for the most part. The meal was exceptionally long and got longer as the room became emptier - and it never half filled in the first place.
The thoughtlessness of the service is what finally irritated me to no end. The worst amalgam of French sniffery and American poor-quality-of-welcome was what we had. Not that there was any lack of bodies around. No one had their eyes open enough or seemed to care enough to help the other specialists. This was a lot of money poorly spent, except of course for motivation to not ever allow this to happen in our places.
We headed from lunch to the great tasting I mentioned at Jamet. After Jamet we headed off to Macon and had a lovely tasting at the superb producer of Saint-Véran and Pouilly-Fuissé, Jacques and Nathalie Saumaize. Great stuff - a style plump and sunny and mineral and pure all at once, superb value from excellent natural winemaking. After we took Nathalie's kind advice - and somewhat controversial directions, we headed toward a restaurant in Saint-Laurent-sur-Saône called Le Saint Laurent.
After an hour of wandering about at high speed, in pitch black and driving rains, with a few jostles, leaps and blind bridges that made the more soft-bellied members of my crew howl a bit - we found the lovely town and the restaurant by the bridge as described.
We walked into a clearly soon-to-close brasserie and after a quick chat organized a menu of Salade au Chèvre Chaud, Bar Rôti Meurette, and Poulet de Bresse Rôti. Throw in some tasty Saint-Véran and a fat young Clos Vougeot and you had a simply satisfied group; well-fed and out the door in 90 minutes and back on the trek to Beaune. We were so happy with dinner. It made me think for weeks about guests' motivations and expectations. It's a subject always on my mind, but never as much as now after my day of stark contrast.
With the opening of Cinghiale followed by the holidays and then my January trip to France with key Charleston and Petit Louis staff, I have found I do have a few stories to tell.
Here's a brief story about managing expectations and oneself in regards to restaurant visits - and also about treatment.
In France we were 7 in total traveling from the Southern Rhone Valley up the valley and eventually to Beaune in a day. About mid-way is Côte-Rôtie and we had visits with Ogier before lunch and Jamet (fabulous wines) after lunch - along with a long philosophical discussion on what is wrong with the modern wine business and wine-making for critics.
Lunch was at La Pyramide, which had been recently redone and apparently had an innovative young chef. The restaurant has two Michelin stars. If you know French culinary lore this was the restaurant of Fernand Point (who was considered the "Godfather" of sorts of modern French food in the 50's and 60's). Many chefs now considered true culinary deans (Bocuse, Troisgros brothers, etc.), came through his kitchen.
The room was modernish, expressive and lovely, especially if you are fond of giant monochromatic fruit paintings. The cooking was this wanna-be-modern-and-technical sort of stuff like Brittany Lobster and Papaya with Espelette peppers. Sorry, if you try this you better get it done - not ok otherwise. Not successful. The cooking was neither thoughtful or as technical or proficient as one would expect for the most part. The meal was exceptionally long and got longer as the room became emptier - and it never half filled in the first place.
The thoughtlessness of the service is what finally irritated me to no end. The worst amalgam of French sniffery and American poor-quality-of-welcome was what we had. Not that there was any lack of bodies around. No one had their eyes open enough or seemed to care enough to help the other specialists. This was a lot of money poorly spent, except of course for motivation to not ever allow this to happen in our places.
We headed from lunch to the great tasting I mentioned at Jamet. After Jamet we headed off to Macon and had a lovely tasting at the superb producer of Saint-Véran and Pouilly-Fuissé, Jacques and Nathalie Saumaize. Great stuff - a style plump and sunny and mineral and pure all at once, superb value from excellent natural winemaking. After we took Nathalie's kind advice - and somewhat controversial directions, we headed toward a restaurant in Saint-Laurent-sur-Saône called Le Saint Laurent.
After an hour of wandering about at high speed, in pitch black and driving rains, with a few jostles, leaps and blind bridges that made the more soft-bellied members of my crew howl a bit - we found the lovely town and the restaurant by the bridge as described.
We walked into a clearly soon-to-close brasserie and after a quick chat organized a menu of Salade au Chèvre Chaud, Bar Rôti Meurette, and Poulet de Bresse Rôti. Throw in some tasty Saint-Véran and a fat young Clos Vougeot and you had a simply satisfied group; well-fed and out the door in 90 minutes and back on the trek to Beaune. We were so happy with dinner. It made me think for weeks about guests' motivations and expectations. It's a subject always on my mind, but never as much as now after my day of stark contrast.
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