I've posted about this before, but it bears repeating.
We've just got back from two nights in a (beautiful) posh hotel (anniversary treat). Room, service, staff all faultless. But oh, the food...pretty little (actually, minute) arrangements which closely resembled the 'gardens on a dinner plate' children's class at the village show when I was a kid (but a lot smaller). You know the kind of thing I mean; pretentious, esoteric, exotic (smoked cods' eyes on a bed of baby pine needles and Japanese cress seeds). And all adorned with a dribble of 'jus' (when did a sauce become a jus? Do you serve food with a jus? What exactly is a jus?).
My best friend lost her sight several years ago. I often try to imagine what it's like to suffer this terrible deprivation. What on earth would she have made of all this?
It made me dream of fish and chips (and I usually only dream of horses, heights and deadlines).
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I have dined in such places. They are so far up their own woks and poachers that they are impossible to talk to.
ReplyDeleteA Jus is just a posh name for a 'Just about Enough'. I think it is an abbreviation. You were fortunate the food wasn't presented on plates like a dustbin lid.
I ask for another two portions of the bits that are worth eating and plenty of bread. Then I order a takeaway from the nearest curry house.
Adrian, how wise you are. Takeaway curry it is next time.
DeleteI agree. We were once served chips in a Stonehenge arrangement of six chips! I resent tiny desserts served in the centre of a huge platter with icing sugar dusted all over the empty space.
ReplyDeleteIt's a sort of less (food) is more (money), L, isn't it.
DeleteMy food comes with gravy.
ReplyDeleteMine too, Wendy.
DeleteI blame Michel Guérard.
ReplyDeleteMichel who? Is he one of these wretched celebrities, CM?
DeleteSome years ago, RJ and I were given a voucher for a posh dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant. The food was excellent, but, as you have described, came in dollhouse-sized portions. Good job they seemed to be used to hungry guests and provided plenty of (really good) bread.
ReplyDeleteIf we had arranged things on our plates the way you often get it served nowadays, my Mum would have told us not to play with our food.
Your mum has hit the nail on the head, Meike.
DeleteI think I'm on my own in liking smaller portions. By the time I've had 3 courses, plus coffee and petit fours, I'm full up.
ReplyDeleteMaggie, I also prefer smaller (manageable!) portions for myself and, more often than not, rather order a starter and a dessert than a main course, because I won't be able to eat dessert afterwards. But those minute portions many a posh restaurant fancies as a sign of extraordinary poshness so often border on the ridiculous.
DeleteSmall portions are fine, Maggie. But that small is ridiculous.
DeleteI can't bear food in patterns. And I like it to reach the edges of the plate.
ReplyDeleteHappy anniversary xx
Thanks, Joanna
DeleteMy husband came back from an event with that type of food and servings once, Frances. I don't mind smaller portions but it has to satisfy my hunger and taste!
ReplyDeleteRosemary, funnily enough, although the portions were small, we weren't hungry afterwards. But the food was just very, very weird.
DeleteHere in the southern U.S. of A. one often hears "Would you like some au jus with that?"
ReplyDeleteI am not even kidding.
Perhaps they mean "eau de jus"?
DeleteThere is such a thing as a happy medium (and I don't mean a laughing spiritualist) when it comes to food. On Lewis 40, even 30, years ago 'most was best' used to be the order of the day. Quality was a side issue. Unless there was quantity the customer wasn't happy. Fortunately things have changed and whilst the only restaurant that attempted to be as pretentious as you describe lasted only months, the most successful restaurant serves manageable portions of excellent food (with jus I have to confess).
ReplyDeleteLucky you, GB. Herabouts we seem to have to choose between gargantuan portions of inedble rubbish (with chips and peas) and the teeny ween pretty brigade.
DeleteGosh. I'm up to date. Phew. Now I can get on with the ironing and watch the late evening news.
ReplyDeleteGB, you and I have both recently posted on the subject of blogging ethics, and I don't think they should include having to visit everyone all the time (although it's always lovely to hear from you). So you're off the hook if you have croquet and broken ribs to attend to...aren't you?
DeleteFrances I won't be able to play any more croquet for a while so I have more time but I read your posts because I want to not because I have to.
DeleteWhat a nice man you are, GB.
DeleteI'm not a fan of anything pretentious - especially food.
ReplyDeleteSensible girl!
Delete