Favorite restaurant in Frankfurt. We have not been back there since my last visit in May. But as soon as we walked in the waiter’s eyes opened wide and he rushed to greet us with gusto. It is possible that he was happy we returned but more than likely he knows a couple of suckers when he sees them.
He smoothly talks us into things we’d never eat, cajoles us into wines much more expensive ($22 more, fer chrissake) than we’d normally drink, and flatters us into more courses than people consider normal even for fat cows like me.
I had the vitello tonnato, veal with tuna sauce and The Royal Indian Mounted Police went with the mozzarella ball on tomatoes or some such thing. And then he had a steak with about 4 pounds of truffles shaved onto it. Me, not liking the truffle thing too much, went with pasta carbonara. The waiter, whose recommendation of whatever-the-hell-it-was, I did not take, nonetheless declared my choice Perfect!!
It was a good-to-great meal and it’s nice to be recognized and welcomed like that but not great getting cornered into buying things and upsold. I’m finding that food and restaurant aside, the waiter is often what makes the meal. I should write a book.
Maintenant, à Paris.
