HUNGRY GERALD

HG and Beautiful Sharon will be in Paris for a few weeks early in 2011. So, why Paris for the umpteenth time rather than Copenhagen or Hong Kong or Vienna or other great destinations? Sure, there’s great art (but not better than New York or Madrid). Great architecture (but not better than Barcelona). Great street life )but not better than Venice). Great cafes (but not better than Buenos Aires). Good looking women (certainly not better than the beaches of Rio de Janeiro). Is it the food? Well, to be truthful you eat better in New York. And, Steven Lemon, the chef at “O”–The Eating House (five minutes from HG’s New Mexico home), makes a better duck confit than you’ll find in Paris and better pizzas than in Rome). So, once more, why Paris? The answer is attitude and ambience. The Parisian attitude is that dining is a delightful, but serious, ritual. A meal, whether a tartine at a bar or a gala dinner, demands attention. It is a collaboration between the waiter, the chef and the diner. At a restaurant gastronomique there is the sommelier to consider. Judgments have to be made. Does the menu (the fixed price meal) have some good choices or should one delve into the more expensive carte? Modest dishes and an expensive wine or vice versa? Cheese platter or dessert or both? A gourmand is not a glutton. Rich must be balanced by relatively austere. And, the entire meal (lengthy or brief) must have a pleasant rhythm…allowing for conversation and laughter with friends, intimacies with lovers and fond recollections with life partners. That’s why the Paris waiter serves a drink (almost never strongly alcoholic) and allows the diner ample time to evolve the appropriate gastronomic and vinuous strategy. HG mentioned ambience. In a Parisian restaurant you are a guest not a mere customer. Everyone in a good establishment takes pride in performance. At HG’s favorite brasserie, Le Stella, the chef lauds the expertise of the men in charge of the outdoor bank of oysters and shellfish; the waiter tells you the Ile Flottante is prepared in house and is the best in Paris; the maitre d’ summons a captain expert in choosing modestly priced but very drinkable wines…and so on. Since the diner is a guest there is the question of good manners. Whether a grand restaurant or a modest bistro, there is a pleasant buzz but voices are kept low. Though the trend is toward the casual, diners are well dressed.  The Parisienne in nicely fitting (not skin tight)  jeans, sweater or shirt and a creatively tied scarf, is a very pleasant sight. And, that goes for young women and ladies of a certain age. How can HG sum up the special essence of Paris? Okay. One incident. HG enters Cave de Abbesses (the funky backroom bar of a wine shop where oysters are being served at a bargain one Euro each). HG orders a dozen and a carafe of chilled muscadet. They are presented. The oysters glisten. There is the fragrance of the sea.  HG says to the waiter: “Say prayers. I have died and am in oyster heaven.” The waiter translates for the crowded bar. Hilarity. Glasses are raised. HG is recognized as a member in good standing of the international tribe of gourmands. Ah,Paree!!