A COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT

Jan 9, 2015 by

A COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT

I noticed Texas Monthly’s article on a new French restaurant in Fort Worth.  TM, evidently, thinks this is the shove that will bring Cow Town out of the boots and bar-b-q genre.  I’ve always felt sorry for Fort Worth.  Maybe, it’s because as young ‘uns, we’d conveniently change the first “O” to an “A” and think we were really funny.  And, it’s always been in Big D’s shadow.  But, my gosh, have you ever spent time in Ft. Worth?  The downtown is wonderful—-The Worthington Hotel, Bass Hall, and the Sid Richardson Art Museum are all located in a pleasant IMG_3661walking area.  And, not to mention the other art museums.  But back to the TM article.  The new restaurant is called Le Cep.  It immediately conjured up a delightful memory of a trip to France a little over 10 years ago.  We had picked our car up in Germany and were driving to Paris to the drop off place.  (Man oh man, is that another story.)  Upon our Paris friend, June’s, recommendation, we stopped in a beautiful little French town called Beaune.  It’s a delightful place, in the heart of the Burgundy region and untouched by the war—it looks like a movie set.  We stayed at Hotel Le Cep.  Little, friendly, adorable, and fabulous. One day after going out to a chateau in (yet, another) vineyard, we came back to the hotel and decided to try the little restaurant next to the hotel.  Again, June’s recommendation.  The hotel made our reservation and when we walked in, the owner, Madame, greeted us and we quickly dropped June’s name and all of a sudden we were rock stars.   I can’t remember what the main course was except it was long and we were looking forward to their famous soufflé that we had ordered immediately upon being seated as we knew it took thirty minutes to prepare.  Finally, the main course plates were cleared and we knew the piste de resistance was next.

HERE I AM WITH MADAME!

HERE I AM WITH MADAME!

The waiter, with chest held high and shoulders squared back, walked to the table and placed the creation on the table.  When the soufflé was set down, the darn thing imploded.  Not a big deal to me, but from the look on the waiter’s face, it was a very big deal at this establishment.  Madam what’s her name came over and looked at it with a shocking gasp.  For a visual reference, picture the portly women in the Groucho Marx movies that overexaggerated her disdain for the antics of the Marx brothers and that’s what Madame looked like!  She scooped up the soufflé and huffed back to the kitchen and we could hear her yelling and screaming in French.  She appeared back at the table and apologized for the inferior soufflé and insisted on making another.  What could we do?  We weren’t about to argue with her so we waited for thirty minutes.  The champagne made it go quickly and finally, it was French soufflé, part deaux!  It was perfection and worth the wait……..And that whole experience was brought back by that one little article in Texas Monthly.  Thanks TM.  What a wonderful, delicious memory.

THE INFAMOUS SOUFFLE!

THE INFAMOUS SOUFFLE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My heart goes out to my friends and readers in Paris.  I mourn the tragedy in your beautiful city.

Respectively, D.J.

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