Michel Rostang, Paris France

When someone asks me about the very best meal I had in Paris Michel Rostang is not the first name to come to mind, yet at the same time if I were asked to explain the most “classical French dining experience” of the trip our lunch in front of the kitchen window at 20 rue Rennequin is precisely what I would describe. Family owned and operated since inception and garnering 2-Michelin Stars the year I was born I was told by friends that this would not be the most revelatory experience in the City of Lights, but that if one ordered correctly it could be a stellar meal at a comparatively good price and while Rostang’s kitchen may not produce items as delicious or distinctive as Gagnaire or Barbot I can say without batting a lash that my friends were right.

Located slightly off the beaten path in the 17eme but easily identifiable by its patron’s name on the building outside we arrived to our 12:30 reservation a few moments early and within seconds of entering the door were greeted by a young man who introduced himself as the Maître d’Hôtel and Chef Rostang’s daughter, a pleasant yet serious woman who was very clearly in charge of many (if not all) aspects of the front of the house. With coat and bag taken we were asked if we would prefer a seat in the more “intimate” portion of the restaurant or if we should prefer a seat before the large picture-window looking into the kitchen – an obvious choice and given the situation of the table an opportunity for both of us to watch every aspect of our meal’s preparation without hearing a sound from the kitchen staff.

Seated and greeted by our server, a young man perhaps my sister’s age who spoke perfect English, three distinctive menus were presented and after a couple of questions we both decided to opt for the lunch special – 78Eu for three courses, plus to split an additional appetizer and a cheese course. Having heard impressive things of Rostang’s famous truffle sandwich it was somewhat disappointing when we were informed that they were not currently offering the item because “the current truffle selection is best suited for garnish and sauces” but given the breadth of classics on the menu we certainly were not left scrambling for ideas.

With orders placed and water filled it was a short wait before the meal would begin and during that time we each made a visit to the gilded downstairs restroom largely to see the two separate wine rooms – one quite enormous and rustic with the other well appointed and behind glass showing off some of their more esoteric selections. With the restaurant less than half full throughout our meal we also were left time to remark on the how charming the room was with its heavy wood paneling juxtaposing delicate lace curtains and a collection of ornate statuettes and dolls displayed along the wall – the whole feel like dining in a stately mansion, or as the case may be, the private residence and vision of Monsieur Rostang.

With thick linen napkins unfolded and heavily padded wooden chairs beneath us the meal would begin with a trio of canapés – all three tasty and one utterly outstanding. Beginning first with the simple, a slice of house cured Jambon with truffled vinegar, pistachio, and parmesan was plenty savory, a little sweet, and nicely accented by the nuts. Moving next to the sandwich, described as a club sandwich of hand-picked crab, truffle, and brie this selection was buttery, sweet, and aromatic with each ingredient coming forth with aplomb – I’d have gladly accepted a full portion of this sandwich in place of the truffle sandwich had they offered. As good as the sandwich was, the showstopper of the troika was the Butter tart with onion cream and foie gras – an unctuous amalgam of smooth liver and onion that was even more so plus mildly sweet top notes from the pastry.

With canapés consumed the next item to arrive at our table was the house bread – a single option in the form of a crunchy demi-baguette served with salted Bordier butter. With bread replenished with a warm roll each time the prior version was within a bite of completion I, as usual, enjoyed plenty and the butter was as good as any save for that at l’Arpege.

With Chef Rostang in the kitchen (apparently something less and less frequent these days according to reports and his daughter’s comments towards the end of the meal) largely as an observer and coach as the young team worked convivially our amuse proper for the meal would arrive in a rather sizable bowl described as Fennel Soup with Lobster claws and Lobster coral Crème. Impressive in portion and in taste this medium-warm potage was the definition of “velvety” and with the aromatic blend of spices and fennel balanced against the butter poached lobster and briny cream it was better than most lobster bisques I’ve tasted stateside. While I personally would have preferred it to be hotter and I jokingly mentioned this to the server it was a minor quibble given the quality.

For our first course of the afternoon there were six choices and all but one sounded enticing but in the end my love of foie gras won out and my server would soon arrive with “Fresh Sea Scallops and Foie Gras Ravioli in a broth of algae, root vegetables and herbs.” Ever professional if not a bit too serious I was warned that this soup was “hot – as you like it” completely straight faced and indeed it was; it was also wonderful. With the scallops caramelized on the exterior and nearly raw within and the pillows of foie lightly kissed with balsamic the sweet proteins melded nicely with carrots, turnips, and rutabaga while the savory broth sang of Asian inspired umami – an admittedly surprising flourish considering the chef’s classic stylings.

For my sister’s first course her decision, like her main course, was “Le Plat du jour proposé par le Maître d’Hôtel” – in this case described as “Chilled Fisherman’s Stew of Calamari, Razor Clams, Sea Bass, and Belotta Ham.” Expecting a broth-thin cioppino or gazpacho but instead delivered a buttery and smooth veloute loaded with briny seafood, savory ham, and bitter greens balanced against onions and peppers the most impressive part of this dish was the heterogeneity of it all – each bite a new experience with the acidity of the tomato providing an anchor to the diversity of flavors.

For our added appetizer a third soup was selected and though we asked for it to be split in the kitchen we were instead served two full bowls of the “Egg cream with fresh black truffles and Jerusalem Artichokes.” Again served hot and thick this velvety soup was the best of the trio and as a 30Eu supplement well worth the expense as the chopped egg blended seamlessly with the hefty vegetal tones of the Sunchoke and aromatics of the truffle.

With plates cleared we were next visited by both Michel and his daughter (acting as translator) who thanked us for coming and commended our main course selections – “one a classic, the other my new take on surf and turf.” Beginning first with the Plat du jour, “Truffled John Dory with blood sausage wrapped in bacon lardons and black olive puree” – it is hard to imagine more polar opposites. Beginning first with the fish – 2 slices, both pan kissed but moist and flakey with a layer of black truffles atop – it was mild, aromatic, and lovely. Serving as counterpoint to the fish, the very definition of savory – briny bacon, aromatic and heavily seasoned sausage, plus the essence of olives. With a silver sauce-pan of truffled potatoes along side adding a creamy aspect to the plate it was perhaps the best “surf n’ turf” I’ve ever tasted thus making it a classic in its own right.

For my main course, a classic by any definition as it was handed down from Escoffier by way of his father, the selection was easy – La Quenelle de Brochet soufflé a la crème de homard “comme le faisait Jo Rostang” – a serving practically half the size of a regulation basketball and nearly as orange. Plated tableside and served with nutty saffron rice this admixture of pike, egg, and bread was impossibly fluffy and delicious on its own, but what truly raised it to its legendary status was the buttery lobster sauce which was baked to a leathery dome atop with more added not once, not twice, but thrice during the course of it’s consumption. While everything at Michel Rostang was delicious this dish was alone worth the visit and undoubtedly one of the five best savories I had on the trip.

Wiping the rest of my plate clean once again with some baguette we were again visited by the younger Rostang who seemed very pleased we’d enjoyed our meal and cleaning the table herself mentioned that the cheese cart should not be missed. With Erika again growing full I suggested perhaps splitting a course which was agreeable to all – even though as it turns out I’d be eating 90% of it myself. With the two boards unloaded from a clever refrigerated space in the wall and described at length I unfortunately do not recall all of the selections from the Goat-heavy board, but of those selected my notes include “Two year Comte, Epoisse, Ashed Lyon Goat, Raw-milk sheep, Blue, Roquefort, Brind amour” and all were quite tasty paired with slices of toasty house-made Walnut Raisin Bread.

Having missed out on my soufflé the night before and already bearing witness to the sort of products coming out from under the kitchen’s Salamander our dessert selections were similar but entirely different – for my sister the Hot Chocolate Souffle with Cocoa Ice Cream and Black Pepper Whipped Cream and for myself the Salty Butter Caramel Souffle with Williams Pear Sorbet. Larger than expected and with outfitted in silver both I can only note that both were beyond reproach – tall, proud, piping hot, and a cloud of sweet balanced by the nuances of their respective sauces. As an added bonus it should also be noted that the ice creams at Rostang are every bit as good as those at Berthillon – particularly the dark chocolate which is trumped only by Philadelphia’s Capogiro for best Chocolate Ice Cream I’ve ever tasted.

With soufflés finished (and Erika stuffed) the final treats for our meal would arrive on the flowing dress of a marvelous silver statue. With nine mignardises in total including an overly soft Canele, a perfect boozy Baba, and other flavors including Candied Currants, Almond Nougat, Apricot Gelee, Rhubarb Tart, Almond Cookie, Chocolate Ganache, and Lemon Marshmallow all were quite tasty but none truly exemplary – more or less the standard despite the lavish service ware. With the kitchen drapes now pulled and the staff making their way downstairs to change clothes and head home our check was requested as we enjoyed the bites and after noting a double charge for the cheeses that was instantly corrected the bill was paid and a copy of the menu requested while we lingered and chatted with our server for a bit before making our way to the sunny streets.

Having already noted my overall thoughts about Rostang at the start of this review I think it is important to say that although the meal wasn’t “the best,” it did fall in the setting of a shear embarrassment of riches unlike any trip I’ve ever taken…in almost any American city Rostang would be the best restaurant in town by leaps and bounds. While the food was perhaps “old school” there were certainly flourishes that made it stand out and additionally, while the service and room were a bit stodgy and not as much fun as that of Le Cinq or Guy Savoy both were every bit on par with that of LeDoyen or Le Pre-Catalan. In the end I’d gladly go back not only for the quenelles or the soufflé, but also because by being “old school,” Michel Rostang represents something quite unique in the new world of Barbot and Bistronomy.

Josephine Chez Dumonet, Paris France

Of the sixteen restaurant meals during our trip to Paris there is only one that I do not feel I can evaluate appropriately – a meal that took place at Josephine Chez Dumonet late on the evening April the 14th. As the circumstances tinting my view of this experience (save for seating us in the “American” section up front while all of the French folks were seated in back) were not a fault of the restaurant I will avoid my traditionally wordy assessment and instead simply opt to comment on what was ordered and how it tasted while noting the service and space were satisfactory – neither overdone nor deficient in any way – though with what the meal ended up costing me I’d have much sooner gone elsewhere for both.

Beginning first with the bread service – a house made toasted baguette with a nice open crumb delivered with rather uninspired unsalted butter and extra fleur de sel on request. It was good for mopping up sauce and as a delivery mechanism for the appetizers but overall sub-par compared to the options throughout the rest of Paris.

Complimentary wines – one white and one red with the first a bit too dry for my tastes while the second was quite sweet and fruity and both a nice gesture while we waited for our courses to arrive – the white with appetizers and the red with the mains.

1983 Chateau Terfort Ste Croix du Mont – an old bottle brought up from the cellar that was uncorked and tasted first behind the bar prior to delivery. Nearly a Sauternes in color and flavor with a smooth sweetness that coated the mouth at first but perfumed the palate with a clean finish and notes of pear, honey, caramel, and even hints of cinnamon. An experience in a bottle coming from a menu most do not even realize exists it was a wine suitable for both the discerning and the novice though perhaps not the sort of thing you order with indifference to yours or someone else's wallet.

Amongst our first courses the first was a demi portion of the house terrine de campagne maison avec salade et cornichons et onions. Similar to that of L’Ami Jean and later Le Regalade St. Honore this was the weakest of the terrines we tasted in Paris and also the only one which was not provided compliments of the house. Overall it simply tasted like meat – the spices largely subdued…a shame as the texture was actually quite nice.

Faring much better than the terrine de campagne, a demi portion of the foie gras de canard frais maison was absolutely sensational – buttery, smooth, and almost melting when warmed to room temperature – the perfect accoutrement to the bread and all the better with some fleur de sel plus a brilliant pairing to the Chateau Terfort with the wine bringing out the sapor of the liver and the liver bringing out buttery toffee notes from the wine.

For our main courses, the first was Cote de veau au vinaigre de framboise – a large slab of meat marinated with and absolutely soaked in a pool of aromatic raspberry vinegar. Not particularly a fan of veal I’ll note that the bite I tasted was supple, slightly sweet, and much more lean than I’d anticipated – an excellent slice of veal which was picked cleaned from the bone by meal’s end.

For my selection, having heard fantastic things of both duck preparations at Chez Dumonet and a fan of all things duck, I selected the Confit de Canard Maison. Served as a sizable leg and thigh over crispy potatoes and an uninspired salad with light vinaigrette the confit was admittedly quite good with a crisp skin overlying a ribbon of fat and dark succulent meat that was slightly gamy with notes of garlic, onion, and chives lending balance. Hefty in portion and low in price the duck was undoubtedly the best deal of the evening – no frills comfort food done well.

The third main plate was undoubtedly the best of the meal and though the 34EU price tag seemed a bit steep the flavors were admittedly complex and the presentation a step (or two) above the others. Titled Millefeuille de Pigeon et ses cuisses confites this two part arrangement was first the legs – lacquered, sweet, crispy on the exterior but melting and falling off the bone within – and then a three layer tower of crispy potatoes with the most flavorful and moist pigeon confit within. With everything resting in a pool of sweetened game sauce with hefty notes of cinnamon and spice I will simply note that even considering the fact that she was stuffed after Guy Savoy it took some convincing to get my sister to share.

With plates cleared and everyone rather full on both food and wine dessert was a rather gluttonous choice, and unfortunately a somewhat controversial one as I was unfortunately prevented the soufflé I’d very much desired instead settling for the Paris Toulouse avec corinthes et framboises – essentially a slightly more dense Paris Brest with filling of berries, whipped cream, and custard. Having heard how large the dessert portions at Dumonet were I was rather surprised at both the averageness of the size and the flavor of the dessert, though the berries were impeccable. Regardless for 18EU I’d have expected better and judging from the soufflés I saw emerging from the kitchen I couldn’t help but feel slighted.

The second dessert ordered was simply a plate of berries and whipped cream – specifically currants and raspberries with the same whipped cream that filled the Toulouse. At 12EU it was again overpriced, but the berries were again excellent.

The last of the desserts was titled “Mille-feuille Jean-Louis” and while I’m not sure which Jean-Louis they are referring to, this two layered version was the most paltry Mille-feuille we experienced in Paris and at nearly 2.5-times the price of the marvelous version at Jacques-Genin (though admittedly more affordable yet vastly less impressive than those at l’Arpege or Guy Savoy) it was simply disappointing in pairing the same vanilla bean custard from the Toulouse with two crunchy layers of pastry…the presentation honestly looked like they’d forgotten another 5 layers.

Ordering coffee because it was nearly 11pm and I’d hit a wall nearly an hour prior it was a humorous display to see our server yipped at by the chef for failing to bring the mignardises with the coffee, but when they arrived these treats were perhaps the best desserts of the meal – particularly the honey and nut tuilles and the fried coconut macaroons.

In the end Josephine Chez Dumonet turned out to be an overly expensive and exceedingly average experience that due to some ancillary issues turned out to be perhaps the meal I regret most on our trip to Paris – while the room, the company, the service, and the experience were fine, with what the meal ended up costing I could have gone back to Le Cinq or any number of one to two starred experiences – not to mention the significantly cheaper and vastly more impressive L’Ami Jean or Le Regalade St. Honore.

Restaurant Guy Savoy, Paris France

I don’t fancy the word “foodie” – it runs afoul with my sensibilities and makes me think of kids acting like everything offal is good, people lining up for food trucks, and all those folks who worship the Food Network and “celebrity chefs.” Don’t get me wrong – I love food and I care about its sourcing, preparation, and presentation but to me the experience is nearly as important as the product on the table…it is what makes a meal worth going out for, and it was with these thoughts in mind and a couple of caveats that the first reservation I secured when planning our trip to Paris was at Guy Savoy.

While some may say that Chef Savoy no longer produces – and perhaps never has produced – the best food in Paris there are very few who critique the “experience” of his Rue Troyon flagship – as a matter of fact, of all the upper echelon spots in the city I’d heard from a number of persons that it was perhaps the most fun and considering my previous visit to his Las Vegas location I had good reason to believe those rumors. For the sake of full disclosure I will note that I was not a stranger at the house of Savoy during this visit as I’d met his son Franck during my dinner at Caesars Palace and had promised him I’d be in contact should I ever return to Vegas or visit the Paris location – but with that said, I made my Parisian reservation on my own through the website for the 110EU lunch before ever touching base with Franck and every aspect of the process was smooth, professional, and faultless from the very start.

With the reservation confirmed and instructions to arrive by noon it was with little difficulty that we found the small restaurant on the Rue Troyon – its doors an identical match for those Stateside – and similar to my previous experience the spectacle of service began before we even reached the walked in the door as both doors opened wide and we were greeted by smiling faces, first a pair of young men and then by Maitre d’ Hubert Schwermer who Franck had e-mailed to personally take care of us. With greetings and pleasantries exchanged we were asked next if we should prefer the main dining room or one of the “smaller, more private” areas and electing for the later were led to a lovely two-top easily big enough for four complete with hefty linens, colorful plates, and the same colorful salt, pepper, and butter service I remembered fondly from Vegas.

With no menu necessary as I’d already arranged the meal through Franck and the reservations department our next contact of the afternoon was with the Sommelier – a friendly man who delivered the biblical tome on a pedestal and after some discussion provided my sister with a lovely 20EU glass of red that she still considers to be the best she has ever tasted. With myself opting for only water we were left next to absorb the colorful space for a few moments before Chef Savoy himself would stop by to say hello at each table as our room filled to capacity – it would be the first of three times we would see Guy Savoy that afternoon and each time he was jovial, humble, and wearing a seemingly perpetual smile.

Already enjoying the pageantry of the dining room, service, and smiles our first bite of the meal would arrive from the hand of Hubert on a small metal toothpick just as it did in Vegas – a sandwich of foie gras terrine between buttered brioche toasts that even my sister, never a fan of liver, stated was good. With one service of such a tasty thing certainly not enough the ritual would repeat twice, each time by a different waiter and since Erika was satisfied with one I ended up with five.

While I’d have been okay with an ongoing flow of foie gras sandwiches it was perhaps ten minutes later when our amuse proper of the meal would arrive – and again it would be just like my first Savoy experience – soup on one side and a hidden morsel on the other. Poured tableside with the fist half a savory veloute of Asparagus served over “lemon caviar” I loved the manner in which the sour dotted the vegetal while the small morsel hidden beneath the cup was an earthy beetroot tart with horseradish – an intense bite opening the palate and sinuses both.

With salted and unsalted butters on the table from the start our next visit would be from the bread cart – yes, that is right, CART. With rounds and braids large and small and varieties including but not limited to Buckwheat with speck, Nori brioche, Five Grain, Rye, Ciabatta, Buckwheat and Oat, Sourdough, and two types of Baguette I’ll only say that I sampled quite a few throughout our three hour experience and although none matched that of Ledoyen or Pierre Gagnaire all were quit good and I particularly loved the coarse crumb of the two buckwheat selections.

Having already noted that our menu was pre-selected the next course was a surprise – an extra course “compliments of the house” described as Line caught whiting with salmon eggs, Dublin Bay Prawn tartar and lemon jelly – a refreshing starter served on a bubbled glass plate with two forms of lemon and two preparations of raw fish. Beginning first with a centerpiece of melt-in-the-mouth prawn surrounded by four curls of meaty whiting topped with briny orange salmon eggs the plate was lent balance, interestingly, by the lemon – some as a sour gel and part as candied gelee with each bringing out different notes in the fishes to great effect.

For our second act – or the first of the requested courses – our selections would differ largely because I wanted my sister to taste Guy Savoy’s most famous dish while I had my eyes set on something I’d been unable to order at the Vegas location as it was out of season. For Erika the choice, of course, was Artichoke and black truffle soup with layered brioche of mushrooms and truffle butter – a signature every bit worth such a distinction and just as smooth and aromatic as before.

For my appetizer selection the choice of the day was a dish described as “Peas all Around” Stateside – or Myriad of young peas when in Paris. Consisting of three layers – the first a gelatin made with pea juice, the second a lightly sweetened puree, and the third a nearly raw layer of shelled peas the petit pois themselves were outstanding – each layer showing off a different aspect of the vegetable’s flavor while the topping of a lightly poached egg, a dash of salt, a drizzle of chive oil, and a few leaves of nasturtium acted only to add nuance and further highlight the intricacy of the produce. Another signature much like the soup I can only say that this dish was perhaps even better – a pure distillation of flavors showing the chef’s intimate understanding of how to extract the maximum experience from an ingredient.

With the format of the 110EU special lunch traditionally appetizer/main/dessert I will note that our main course selection raised the price of the experience to 150EU but in reality it was this specific choice that spurred our decision to visit Guy Savoy Paris in the first place – you see, much like the Peas all Around, the Volaille de Bresse en Vessie was not something that could be accommodated on my Vegas visit though Franck assured me that if I ever made it to Paris I should be sure to ask in advance because “they can always get good bird there, even when it is not on the menu.” …and ask I did.

A grand presentation if there ever was one, the “Volaille de Bresse Pochee en Vessie – Riz au safran, jus truffie-foie gras” arrived carried by two men and to the amusement of everyone in the room was deflated, carved, and plated tableside as Hubert stood by and described the heritage of the preparation, the hen, and even the rice. Beginning first with the succulent breast meat as the dark was returned to the kitchen to be pan-finished everything about this bird was a revelation – as a matter of fact, it was chicken that did not “taste like chicken” but rather something more clean, more buttery, and more intense. With rice equally impressive – nearly risotto in its texture with notes of saffron peaking through the aromatic sauce – and buttery vegetables there is no doubt this was the best chicken I’d ever had and although I generally prefer light meat even the dark meat – added along with more rice, sauce, and vegetables as we worked on the breast – was magnificent and with Erika getting full my third serving (essentially twice the size of the second) was equally exceptional.

With plates cleared it was my expectation that dessert would arrive next and having experienced the parade of sweets at Guy Savoy Las Vegas I knew we would be in for a treat, but instead what followed was another visit from Guy Savoy who said Franck had written to him and said he wanted us to experience the cheese cart “on his tab.” Never one to decline such an gracious offer but knowing Erika was already near bursting I suggested perhaps sharing a course and with that the cart with at least thirty was wheeled over and described at length with our eventual selections including a Triple Cream Brie de Meux, an ashed Goat cheese, 2-year aged Comte, Morbier, Roquefort, and a potent Bleu de Vache along with fresh warm slices of Apricot and Walnut Raisin Breads.

With coffee offered (again “on Franck’s tab) but declined we were told it would be a few moments before our dessert was prepared “a la minute” and as such we were brought “some treats” including a strawberry atop lemon meringue with vanilla Chantilly, a Grape stuffed with Rice Putting, and a Floating Island Cube with Lime and Red Fruits – all tasty, light, and the grape particularly a very interesting textural experience.

For our dessert proper I have to say I was slightly conflicted when selecting as I was not terribly impressed by either of the selections in Las Vegas and as such I decided to keep things simple – a choice that would pay off in the form of the best Mille-Feuille we had in Paris. Again presented by Hubert who described the dish as Mille-Feuille “minute” with vanilla pod custard it was not only the vertical size texture of this pastry that impressed, but also the texture and flavor with puffy layers of pastry shattering on pressure and custard loaded with milky sweetness and potent notes of vanilla. With bite after bite remaining a balance of crispy and creamy even with an extra dollop of custard added to each plate it was actually my sister who commented that she couldn’t believe something so large and decadent could be so light.

In order to again cleanse our palates before *more* dessert, our next dish was Earl Grey Sorbet with Lemon and Black Pepper – a lovely creamy concoction that tasted something akin to American sweet tea with a bit of bite.

For our final “course” of the meal, just like in Vegas, we were visited by Savoy’s famous carte of desserts – a veritable cornucopia of puddings, candies, cookies, and treats. With each option first described by the sever our selections would start with Crème caramel, Banana Sorbet, Chocolate Mousse, Vanilla Rice Pudding, and Rose Rice Pudding with a second round (for me, while Erika slipped into a food induced stupor) consisting of a Chocolate Macaron, Vanilla Marshmallow, Toffee Nougat, Peanut Marshmallow, Coffee Macaron, and slice of Chocolate Tart. With each quite tasty, particularly the Rose Rice Pudding, the Vanilla Macaron, and the Toffee Nougat I will note that a third round was offered and although there were still more options to try I decided the better part of valor was to be able to walk out rather than be rolled.
With the bill paid and a copy of the menu requested Hubert stopped by once again to make sure there was “nothing else we desired” and while I certainly should have liked to try pretty much everything on the menu I instead said “no, everything was wonderful,” and with that we were escorted to the door where upon emerging a small Scotty dog was seen wandering by with tongue lolling, a smile on his face and seemingly without a care in the world – a feeling entirely paralleling my own. In the end a visit to Guy Savoy is something I recommend whole heartedly because while it may indeed not be the “very best” food in Paris (debatable as the chicken and Mille-Feuille are the best I've had anywhere,) it was indeed the very best time I had at a table in Paris and the experience - that extra thing beyond the food that I value so much - is unforgettable.