I’m not much of a foodie. Really, give me some spaghetti bolognese and I’m a happy camper. But while in Paris, my boyfriend and I decided to book a reservation at a One Michelin star restaurant to see if all the hype about French food is real.
Dear Reader, it is.
The night started out a little tense. The restaurant was intimate and beautifully designed. But I was so nervous! I’m not a cave woman, but I am also not particularly well-versed in the art of fine dining. There were many, many forks to contend with and we were by far the youngest people there.
It was a four course meal, and once they poured the starter champagnes, I began to relax and enjoy myself. First of all, the servers were so professional. They attended to and anticipated every one of our needs (Bf and I joked that if we started crying they would silently wipe away our tears!).
Each course was paired with a wine of their choosing. We started off with a potato and leak soup. The presentation was gorgeous! The portion sizes looked small to my american brain at first, but they were surprisingly filling. Bravo, France. Bravo.
Then we had a beet salad with a mysteriously delicious dressing followed by roasted vegetables.
Next came the main course: veal with potatoes in a creamy yellow sauce that blew my provincial mind!
But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. The cheese plate followed, then some sorbet to cleanse the palate before the chocolate soufflé finale!
I didn’t realize what a difference it makes to slow down and intentionally taste your food. Because I was in no rush, I savored every bite. I tried to dissect the flavors at play and actually think about what I was putting in my body.
I know it’s not realistic to eat this nice every meal (unless I strike it rich as a writer…), but I am going to try to apply the same principal of intentional tasting from here on out.
Thank you, Paris, for teaching me how to taste my food! It only took 23 years. Better late than never.