Photo: pasotraspaso/Flickr
Kathy Gunst
Resident Chef, Here & Now
Cookbook author, blogger
Remember when fine dining was simple? You were handed a menu, the waiter recited the specials, you ordered, and the rest of the evening was spent in conversation with your dining companions. Listening to the life story of your waiter or waitress was not part of the experience. Nor was an exhaustive recitation of the provenance of the meat, fish, cheese, and chocolate on the menu. It was a less complicated time and I, for one, long for it.
I’ve just come from a week in the Bay area and northern California and I have been overwhelmed with good food, but also a mega dose of pretense.
Take, for instance, my experience at one of the hottest restaurants in San Francisco. We are seated at a gorgeous wooden table and handed menus. Then comes the dreaded water question. “Still, sparkling, or tap?” I am always met with scorn when I answer tap. Call me crazy, but I prefer to spend my money on wine and good food. Our waiter then launches into a long soliloquy about the specials and “what chef prefers to do with pork,” and “what chef prefers to do with pasta.” Fine. I’m OK until I ask for some guidance. “I’ve never been here. Can you help me zoom in on one or two dishes to try?” And then it comes, an absurd response that goes something like this: “There are seven of you here. That gives you seven possibilities. There are seven lives that can be altered by this food. I would never be so presumptuous as to tell you what I think is best. Seven lives can be fed here, tonight. I’ll leave it to you.”
Seriously? I wasn’t looking for spiritual guidance. I just wanted to know if he thought the homemade fettuccine trumped the sole? Continue reading →