Dateline Normandy: April 10
We dined last night at a restaurant that the concierge selected, Le Flambé. We entered a lovely room and the woman at the desk said in struggling English, far better than my horrible French, “We are fully committed, sorry.”
Me: But we have a reservation.
Her: We are fully committed.
Me: But we have a reservation.
Bartender, who has come over: Sorry we are fully committed.
Me: But we have a reservation.
Bartender and hostess: Sorry, we are fully committed.
Me: But we have a reservation. (I’m smiling and polite, but Maria is clearly about to lose it.)
Manager, who has observed the impasse and walked over: “We are fully committed, sorry.”
Me: But we have a reservation.
Manager, finally looking at the open book on the hostess stand: “Of course you do (gesturing to a passing hostess), show Mr. Weiss to booth number one!”
We had a fabulous meal, with more surgical implements for the shellfish platter (photo should be below) than most doctors would need to remove a spleen. The restaurant did fill, and dozens of people were turned away at the door, which we could observe from our
Dining tools for an amazing selection of shellfish.
Local architecture in Deauville.
A typical street a short walk from the sea.
seats.
You have to love the French. (You have very little choice, of course, when you’re in their country.)
At this point, I have counted six Ferraris in the lot, two vintage Porsches, two old sports cars I can’t identify, scores of ordinary Porsches, and a sea of Mercedes. Not one Bentley, and of course no Super Sports. But a big Rolls convertible chugged along through town, with two guys in it who looked like they were made at at the factory.
© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.
