The restaurant we chose, Bistro Crampel, is located on the other side of the Garonne from us, and in such a place that it's too far to walk and a pain to use public transportation. We decided to drive. Five minutes later, we're circling the neighborhood trying to find a parking spot. We see one, and my husband insists he do the parallel parking because it's kind of tight. Almost too tight. Think this scene from Austin Powers. But 10 minutes later, the car is parallel to the curb and not touching the bumpers of the cars in front and behind.
The waitress seats us and brings over the slates that serve as menus. With our smartbox we get two Spanish sausage and cheese platters with 2 glasses of wine. We decide to split the 2 platters between the 3 of us and our friend orders his own glass of wine. The place has a lot of beef options, but things like 'Tripes" and "Tripoux" or "Rognon de veau". I don't feel like a steak, but the salmon dish seems too safe. I decide to branch out a little bit and order the "Tête de veau" after verifying there weren't any brains involved.
Twenty minutes later, out comes a plate that I unfortunately didn't photograph.
In this picture, you can see that there's some meat in the center surrounded by a layer of something. This dish has the veal head kind of rolled in a circle, but mine were presented more as strips. The sauce was really good, but there wasn't much meat. B started kidding me about all I was leaving on my plate, but I told him I didn't want to eat the fat that came with the meat. He convinced me to at least try it, so I cut a little piece and ate it. It melted in my mouth just like fat, and I couldn't image eating an entire plate of it! It was about a centimeter thick and an opaque white color.While pushing around the food on my plate I saw a hair. I'm not one to get freaked out by that, but then there was a second, and I couldn't get them off. Then I realized they came from a tuft of scalp on the meat.
After everyone finished, the waitress came back, but stopped in her tracks when she saw my plate.
- "Mais, vous ne terminez pas?!" Her eyes are filled with concern.
- "Bah, j'avais pas envie de manger le gras." I try to sound like I don't regret ordering the dish.
- "Mais, mais, ce n'est pas du gras, c'est la gelatine!" I don't think I can describe the mixture of surprise, shock, and horror in the waitress face.
- "----". Me, dumbfounded.
At this point, B is hiding his humiliation in his hands and also trying not to laugh. I'm trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
- "Vous voulez que je vous apporte quelque chose d'autre?"
- "Euh, non merci, c'est bon. J'ai plus vraiment faim, donc même si j'ai pas terminé le plat c'est bon."
My husband is dying of laughter at my mistake, and mortified as I am, I can't help but start laughing. Our friend starts laughing because we can't stop laughing.
The waitress took our plates away, and I dab at my eyes with tears of laughter. A few seconds later there was a huge crash in the kitchen as she dropped our plates, probably from the shock of someone ordering tête de veau and thinking it was all fat.
This link explains briefly how it is made, and now I understand a little bit better the waitress's shock: the dish takes 5-7 hours to prepare, and here I was sending back 2/3 of it...
In any case, what we thought would be a simple evening with tapas and a glass of wine courtesy of B's cousin turned into a very memorable occasion and chance for me to learn any important lesson: NEVER ORDER TETE DE VEAU
2 comments:
Well I'll put it on my list of what not to order at a restaurant. Just reading your account of it made me feel queasy for a moment!
Were you supposed to eat the gelatine?
It would seem so, by the reaction of the waitress. The page I found describing the way it's made says that strip of gelatin is actually the brain. I has asked if there was any "cervelle" and the waitress said no, but there is apparently some brain. When I tasted it it didn't taste weird, just melted in my mouth.
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