LE MENU
Menu doesn't mean the same thing in a French restaurant as it does in an American restaurant. To find the menu in a French restaurant you have to look for the "carte." The carte is the list of plates available. The Menu is a pre-selected group of dishes that the Chef thinks you should have to make for a well-rounded meal with properly paired dishes. The Menu can range from 2 to 8 dishes, depending on how much the Chef thinks you should eat, and how much he can tempt you to pay. Usually there are several Menus available, with differing numbers of dishes and emphasis; and usually the price of the menu is substantially less that the sum of the prices of the individual dishes if ordered from the carte. After ordering a number of menus we have cut back and now generally order just one plate from the carte. That's what I did for dinner tonight, in an attempt to cut back on food intake for a short while. "To get tall, thin and blond, like you" Bonnie explained to the waitress, who then explained that all Bonnie had to do was go to her hairdresser, and wear high heels. Very smooth! We're staying at the Chateau Mazan, the ancestral chateau of the Marquis de Sade. It's a moderately priced hotel, in the center of the Southern Rhône wine production region, and with a restaurant not particularly known. So I ordered one dish, the dorade fish "with her vegetables." The French love to use the possessive tense. Soon after the order was taken, the waitress returned with four little plates of Spanish tapa, including: toothpicks with pieces of various salamis, herring with an almond, and little cubes of soft cheese alternating with pieces of olives. Well, I reasoned, since I only ordered one plate, this can't hurt me. And, of course, it cried out for a glass of wine, so I asked for a glass of white. The waiter returned with a 500 ml bottle of 2003 red Vacqueras, explaining that the Chef had suggested that I taste this bottle before deciding to take the requested glass of white. Well, one sip of this wine and I was in love again-with that wine! How delicious! I agreed with the chef. A few minutes later the waitress removed the tapas plates, and put down the "amuse bouche." This is a little free taste of things to make your mouth happy, and show off the chef's skills, while waiting for the first course-in this case, my only course. This amuse bouche consisted of a little cup of crème of tomato soup, and a little pot of vegetables with brandade below. Bradade is a dip made from cod fish and potatoes, among other things. Delicious. Then the main course arrived, at about the time I was halfway through the wine. There were two nice pieces of the dorade fish, and five or six vegetables in various guises: simmered in exotic seasonings, stuffed with purees, and miniature steamed turnips. A very generous helping. Did Monsieur want to see the cheese tray? No thank you. Did Monsieur want to order some dessert-perhaps the special grand mariner soufflé? No thank you. Coffee Monsieur? No thank you, I'll just finish this last few sips of wine. A moment or two later the tall thin blond was back with a big plate of cookies and candy coated nuts; the "mignardise." The mignardise is something sweet to help clear your pallet after the cheeses and desserts. Often there's a "tuile," a carmelized cookie shaped like a roof tile. This time there were two for each of us, and Bonnie doesn't like them. Oh well, since I only ordered one plate, it can't hurt if I eat all four of them. Along with the chocolate covered almonds. Finally I finished the wine, feeling quite virtuous about my diet. The next day we searched out the producer, Les Ondines, only to discover that the 2003 was sold out. I tasted the 2004, and found it quite ordinary. Well, I didn't find the great wine, but at least I stuck to my diet. Merv Hecht Carpentras France, May 2006 ADDITIONAL ARTICLES |
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