OK, I apologize up front. This got a bit long, so you might want to
just hit the "delete" key now. :-)
On 2010-03-23 17:28, John Francis wrote:
My point was more that you *are* paying for the snotty attitude.
That, to some extent, is what differentiates a "chef" from a cook.
>
> A good place will work with you to find something you will like
> that is cooked the way the chef would like to prepare it. That
> doesn't sound like it would be a steak in your situation.
/Aus les contres/ (I'm sure that's not even grammatically correct, but
you get my point, I suspect) I'm paying for what I asked for. A /chef/
understands that. You published a menu. You asked me what I want. I
told you. That's a promise, and, in some polities, a contract. If you
take it upon yourself to deliver something else, your whining about
"caveman Americans" is pointless, nationalistic road apples (horse
excrement, if "road apples" is not a phrase you recognize).
I've /never/ had a problem in a truly "haute cuisine" restaurant. I've
had no end of trouble with self-elected, self-important little shits who
think they're chefs.
Personally, I almost never eat at "haute cuisine" restaurants in the US
for exactly that reason. I often eat at them outside the US. In those
situations, I have a discussion with the waiter, we agree, the waiter
takes my order, has a discussion with the chef, and I get what I want
with "reasonable" excursions on the Chef's ideas. I get what I like,
even though I might not have known or have ever tried it before. The
waiter and the chef and I all took the time to communicate, and the chef
both took the time and knew enough to merge his ideas of a great meal
with mine.
One particular evening, in about 1994, I went to dinner with some
friends in the south of France. I was there on business, with several
colleagues transiting in and out. One of my colleagues knew the area
and drove us up into the hills to some of his favorite haunts. It was
maybe fifty or sixty kilometers north of Nice, up in the beginnings of
the mountains.
For evening meal, we went to this little place with maybe seven or eight
tables, in a small room of a "castle" from maybe the 13th or 14th
century, it seemed. So my colleague has called ahead and placed our
reservation. Actually, it was likely more like he told them a party of
four was an hour or so away. I say that because, when we arrived, and
for the entire evening, we were the only party in the place.
Anyway, we get there and settle ourselves. Almost immediately, a young
man comes out, takes and delivers our drink orders, and leaves some
"nibbles" at our table.
So, we sit, we drink, we talk, we nibble the snacks. After maybe ten
minutes, another young man comes in. He introduces himself by given
name, in flawless, unaccented English, French, and German, to suit each
guest individually. He asks and is invited to join our table. After
ten or fifteen minutes, he surprises the heck out of us by revealing
that he's not some local roue out to meet foreigners, he's our waiter!
He describes the entrees and the daily specials, then asks our meal
preferences. The ensuing discussion consumes about thirty minutes and
about a bottle of wine, in which our waiter freely participates, at our
instigation. When we've all come to a dinner conclusion, our new friend
excuses himself to discuss our preferences with the chef.
I wanted a specific item, a particularly fresh cut of locally butchered
beef. And I wanted it cooked just past the point the middle would have
been pink. The waiter told the chef. Via the waiter, the chef
expressed his reservations. Again via the waiter, I expressed my
confidence that he (the chef) could satisfy my desire for "doneness"
with his aesthetics, and my further confidence to leave the results in
his well-earned judgment.
Between them, they defined and conjured a meal for me, and for each of
us, that exceeded the wildest expectations. Maybe they were just bored,
since we were the only party. Or maybe they were consummate
professionals who loved their professions /and/ their clients.
To me, the fundamental point was that they were specifically interested
in what /I/ wanted. If I'm going to lay out "haute cuisine" prices, I
expect that level of attention.
If you insist on a well-done steak you're telling the chef that
you don't value his skills.
Well, the chef is certainly able to interpret it that way, but that's
not the way I'm offering it. I'm offering it as "if you serve me a
bleeding hunk of meat, I'm gonna puke on your table".
Would you want to work for a client who insisted on telling you
that he wanted every photograph overexposed by three stops?
If his checks are big enough and don't bounce, I'll do anything he wants
me to.
--
Thanks,
DougF (KG4LMZ)
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