Taillevent

We had phoned to reserve only the week before, and so were squeezed in at 7:30 pm, early for France.  We were the first table to arrive.  All I remember was the hushed, cavernous room covered in thick, gray carpeting, and being excited, but unsettled too.  Since no one was dining yet, Jeanne and I were offered a tour upstairs.

There was an army of men that seemed to exist to take care of us.  They were constantly swooshing in.  Jeanne tried to hand me her menu to set aside and swoosh, someone grabbed it.  We raise our heads with a question and swoosh, someone’s there to answer it.  I stand to use the bathroom, and well, you get the picture, I’ve got my own personal escort to see me to the toilet.  This went on all night.   

And let’s be honest, I was uncomfortable at first.  Fine, intimidated.  And help me Julia Roberts, there’s a fish fork? 

But then, slowly, the Taillevent waiters revealed their true selves, the person behind the swooshing. 

And they were jokers, those guys. 

You never knew where they were lurking, or how many of them were watching you at one time (it felt like there were hundreds, but reports estimate it was closer to 20 or 30), but once they were out in the open, teasing you about your choice of wine, you almost wanted to pat a chair, hand them a glass and say, “No really, tell me about you.” 

Yeah, Taillevent.  Worth every penny.   Especially when your Aunt Pat and Uncle Skip* are providing the piggy bank. 

I tend to fall in line with the conventional wisdom (or at least, the wisdom of David Rakoff), that it is so irritating when waiters present the menu as if it were scripture, kneeling conspiratorially by your table and murmuring, “Chef has prepared an AMAZING snapper tonight.”  That chummy, yet reverent tone seems to have the exact opposite of its desired effect, making me not say, “I want to be friends with you,” but “Who are you?”

They don’t do that here.  They are unsentimental, for instance, about their astounding Coquilles Saint-Jacques.  They let the Coquilles Saint-Jacques speak for itself.  I like that.  I find that Coquilles Saint-Jacques, if given the chance, usually have a lot of interesting things to bring to the table.

Rémoulade de tourteau à l’aneth
(Sauce fleurette citronnée)

Langoustines roties
(Barigoule d’artichauts poivrade)

Coquilles Saint-Jacques dorées
(au cresson)

Canard colvert roti
(aux épices)

Ossau Iraty
(Confiture de cerises noires)

Croustillant de poires au fenouil

Feuille à feuille au chocolat et aux marrons

And now there’s just one loose thread to tie up, and that is the fact that my purse had its own chair.

It’s one of those facts that doesn’t need a whole lot of “blah blah blah” (to use a phrase that is currently enjoying great trendiness in France). 

All you need to know is that one second I set my purse by my feet, as I’ve done countless other times in restaurants, and the next second, said purse was plucked off the ground and swooshed into a stool so it could have a better view of the crab soup.   

At the end of the meal, everyone commented on what a lovely companion she had been. 

As for the fish fork, my purse was of absolutely no help.

*My Aunt Pat and Uncle Skip, currently visiting France, are fantastic.  And fun.  And tried to get me to take a train with them to Dijon when I was plied with champagne at Taillevent, but in the cold sober light of the next morning I canceled because I had too much work, and wrote "be more spontaneous" on the very top of my to-do list. 

Comments

[Mademoiselle]

In Japan it is absolutely unthinkable not to have a stool or at least a basket for your purse in a restaurant. And frankly speaking, I like it that way...Now I cannot even consider putting my purse down the floor and if I do not have a spare chair (like in France), I do like the japanese girls, I put it between my back and the chair.
Might sound shallow but when you compare the state of your bag after 6 months of extensive use, you get the idea...

[amy]

It sounds like a lovely meal! But I have to ask... were they really squeezing you in? I mean, were they anticipating more than one seating in an evening?

I find that a bit shocking for a 3 star... If you're paying that much, it seems you should be able to relax and enjoy the table for the entire night.

In any case, I certainly hope you didn't feel rushed out, and that no one else had to wait for the their reservation.

[Coquette]

I know, we were confused, since they don't turn over tables. But we think they do it for the kitchen?

[Coquette]

If everyone arrived at the same time, I supposed that would be difficult for them? My Aunt and Uncle had to cancel their last trip for health reasons, so they wanted to accomodate even though they were booked.

[Alice]

Ahhh... Taillevent... *Pronounced in a reverential, hushed tone of voice*

Quelle chance ! I once dined at l'Arpège, but I've never had the privilege of experiencing Taillevent. I'm sure it must have been unforgettable!

Your menu choices, in any case, are breathtaking: langoustines, coquilles Saint Jacques and canard all in the same meal? Again, quelle chance ! (all three are some of my absolute favorite dishes, but usually you only have the opportunity to choose ONE during a meal) Did you drink champagne with the whole meal, or a nice white wine as well? (I'm just curious about these kinds of gastronomic pairings...)

I love the way you shared the story as well... I could picture you there, with your purse by your side!

[Kathleen]

The next time I dine fancily in the States, I will be requesting that purse stool. Just goes to show, if you pay enough for accessories, people will treat them like small children with their own little highchairs. Fabulous.

Just think if you had worn Mildred, eh? Would she have gotten her own armoire?

[amy]

Oh good! It makes sense that the kitchen would want to work in shifts.

I'm relieved that 3stars haven't started hustling their patrons out the door.

[Stu "El Inglés" Harris]

If everyone arrived at the same time, I supposed that would be difficult for them?
Surely, in Paris everyone arrives at 13:00 for Lunch, 20:00 for dinner anyway.
They cope somehow.

[CurlyHairDay]

maybe you should update:
Don't hate me because I eat at Taillevent.

I am ever so envious. Thanks for the recounting.

A few years ago, a friend and I went back to Lyon to reprise our year spent there as poor college students. This time we dined chez M. Bocuse at l'Auberge in Collognes au Mont d'Or. Add it to your list! Or wait until I come back to France and we can go together with our purses.

[Olivia]

The special seat for your purse reminds me of an interview with Donna Tartt I once read. She was staying in Paris, and went out for supper accompanied by her pug. The waiter greeted her at the restaurant door, and enquired as to whether she was dining alone. Then he caught sight of zee pug and his face changed. "Ahh non, madame," he said tenderly. "I see you are dining a deux."

[srah]

Ossau Iraty is my favoritest cheese evar. And black cherry preserves to go with it! Why am I so excited about the cheese course?

[ParisBreakfasts]

All that swooshing service reminds me of when I stayed at the Penisula Hotel in Hong Kong on an expense account for a bit. If I dropped a facecloth on the floor, in no time a gentle knock would come at the door. A housekeeper would be standing there, an armfull of fresh towels... Who says the rich aren't different?

[eurobrat]

Wonderful.

I love the purse stool!

[callipyge]

very lovely-ly written :-)
I particularly love the part where you write about your purse admiring your crab soup.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go wipe my coke sip off my LCD screen.

[Aoife]

Sounds great. I'm jealous.

But in what person should one speak of the chef, if not the third? Was the waiter the chef? Were you the chef?

[Coquette]

Alice, we had a Puligny Montrachret (white) and Chamboli Musigny (light red wine) both were from Bourgogne.

Aoife, drrr, of course it's not third person. Good point. I was trying to say when the subject is spoken of as we would a deity, without a definite article.

Olivia, I love that Donna Tart story!

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