I'll Go Ahead and Cross Off 'French Kiss A Duck' From My To Do List
I've posted the picture book version of my night below. LOTS of eating took place. Not only did we hit up Cha Fahn and Craigie Street Bistrot, we also made a run for Pizza Hut at the end of the night. I know all this food sounds egregious, but Craigie Street forced us to seek out the Pizza Hut. Let me tell you why:
Duck Tongues
Our first course was DUCK TONGUES. Now, I'm always up for trying new things, but the tongues were whole. Have you ever seen a duck tongue before? It's not something you really have a craving to see, right? Particularly not floating in some brown liquid in a bowl in front of you either, right? The tongues were about the size of half my pinky, and as I swished them around in my plate working up the courage to stick one in my mouth, the wholeness of the tongue made me envision a real duck, more specifically, a real duck's mouth opening wide, and coming closer, and closer, and closer, and AAAAAAAAAAh!
Well, I ate the little fuckers. And they tasted exactly like you would imagine a whole duck's tongue would taste. Oh man. Quickly moving on!
The restaurant really makes an effort to appear, first of all, French. They have all of these random, "Look! We are a cute, little French bistro!" books lying around, like: a Learn to Speak French workbook, and the 2002 Zagat guide to Parisian restaurants. I know, I know. They more scream, "WE ARE AMERICANS AND WE VISITED PARIS ONCE AND TRIED TO LEARN A BIT OF FRENCH WHILE WE WERE THERE." In all fairness, I have no idea whether the chef is French or not. Maybe he is and he just has very questionable taste in all departments.
They also make an exerted effort to appear fresh. Pretty much everywhere you look, they have posted info telling you that all of the ingredients are procured each morning and the menu is based on the day's bounty. Meaning, of course, that duck tongues were somehow fun and fresh that morning. Oh no! The mental image is returning! Make it go away! Make it go away! But, the duck tongues weren't the end of it. My date's dish also included a side of bone marrow. BONE MARROW! Our (actually super sweet) waitress informed us that it is best enjoyed spread on bread. Like jam! Can you imagine spreading bone marrow on bread?! It's crazy! The French are crazy!
Although I made a concerted effort to try everything, the textures and the mental images defeated me in the end. Maybe it's something you have to acclimate up to. Don't get me wrong, I love the French. And I'll take some crazy experimenting any day over burgers or pasta. My squeamishness did make me feel guilty, though; as if my red state heritage was bubbling up in some unfiltered reaction. So, although weird and crazy, I will give the French bistro another chance.
Though, I may scarf down a Taco Bell Burrito Supreme for dessert.
Duck Tongues
Our first course was DUCK TONGUES. Now, I'm always up for trying new things, but the tongues were whole. Have you ever seen a duck tongue before? It's not something you really have a craving to see, right? Particularly not floating in some brown liquid in a bowl in front of you either, right? The tongues were about the size of half my pinky, and as I swished them around in my plate working up the courage to stick one in my mouth, the wholeness of the tongue made me envision a real duck, more specifically, a real duck's mouth opening wide, and coming closer, and closer, and closer, and AAAAAAAAAAh!
Well, I ate the little fuckers. And they tasted exactly like you would imagine a whole duck's tongue would taste. Oh man. Quickly moving on!
The restaurant really makes an effort to appear, first of all, French. They have all of these random, "Look! We are a cute, little French bistro!" books lying around, like: a Learn to Speak French workbook, and the 2002 Zagat guide to Parisian restaurants. I know, I know. They more scream, "WE ARE AMERICANS AND WE VISITED PARIS ONCE AND TRIED TO LEARN A BIT OF FRENCH WHILE WE WERE THERE." In all fairness, I have no idea whether the chef is French or not. Maybe he is and he just has very questionable taste in all departments.
They also make an exerted effort to appear fresh. Pretty much everywhere you look, they have posted info telling you that all of the ingredients are procured each morning and the menu is based on the day's bounty. Meaning, of course, that duck tongues were somehow fun and fresh that morning. Oh no! The mental image is returning! Make it go away! Make it go away! But, the duck tongues weren't the end of it. My date's dish also included a side of bone marrow. BONE MARROW! Our (actually super sweet) waitress informed us that it is best enjoyed spread on bread. Like jam! Can you imagine spreading bone marrow on bread?! It's crazy! The French are crazy!
Although I made a concerted effort to try everything, the textures and the mental images defeated me in the end. Maybe it's something you have to acclimate up to. Don't get me wrong, I love the French. And I'll take some crazy experimenting any day over burgers or pasta. My squeamishness did make me feel guilty, though; as if my red state heritage was bubbling up in some unfiltered reaction. So, although weird and crazy, I will give the French bistro another chance.
Though, I may scarf down a Taco Bell Burrito Supreme for dessert.
posted by Notyomomma
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