I do know that it is rude to eavesdrop… but sometimes it is impossible to resist.
It went something like this.
We I were enjoying a quiet lunch in the village together… We sat down, said our ‘bonjours’ to the waitress, looked at the menu and ordered our lunch… That was about it… All pretty average when it comes to restaurant behaviour. He chose a steak and frites medium rare and I went for the pasta with pesto… All easy… Five minutes tops and we were sorted.
In comes a sweet older couple… They settle themselves into their table and reach for the menu. (I was facing them and as most French restaurants are a squeeze I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.)
The discussion started between them.
‘I am very worried about the cuisson?’ ‘I like my duck breast pink, not rare and not overcooked… if it is not prepared like that it is impossible…’ (You need to imagine a very, very serious face here… expressions that would indicate life or death in any other country...)
In the meantime we have received our drinks and started on our assiettes while the other couple are still discussing the merits of the menu… All the while I am relaying their conversation… it still amuses and delights us that the French can spend so long discussing the intricacies of a single meal… The world could be falling apart but nothing will detract a Frenchman or woman from his/her stomach.
The waitress arrives at their table to take the order…
Madame, in a very concerned tone, says that she would very much like the magret de canard, it is just the thing to stimulate her poor appetite, but needs assurance that the cooking will be just to her liking. They debate the merits of rare v’s pink and the disgrace of an overcooked duck breast. The waitress is entirely happy with this conversation (not a sign of impatience on her behalf) and guarantees that the chef can master this task. Monsieur decides on the entrecote as planned and furnishes his cooking instructions for the chef…
We are just about on last bites at this stage.
Next thing… just when I am thinking that all the food chat is finished… Madame takes out her mobile phone, dials and relays the duck drama to her friend on the other end. They now toss back and forth between them how a duck breast should be cooked. (I am thinking they both must be pretty expert in the kitchen…)They question whether Madame is going to manage to have it just to her liking and if it is, or is not, a good choice for lunch. At the same time Madame tells her friend to hold on so that she can relay to Monsieur all that they have discussed… (He is seriously interested and doesn’t want to miss out on a word…)
I am translating rapidly, trying not to laugh and still amazed that they could talk about a duck breast for a good 40 minutes or more… The French talk food like I can talk fashion… without drawing breath… Even more amused, I listened as Madame told her friend what delectables were on the desert list. Remember, she was not that hungry… having a sensitive appetite… so they decided that a small tranche of tart would be her safest option… Her friend then proceeded to discuss her lunch options… she was going to pass on desert… Monsieur and Madame weren’t having any of that and tried to convince her of a sweet finish… After all, it is of the utmost importance to finish a meal well… balance of flavours and all that… or so they said.
