I was hosting friends at The Square, one of my favorite London restaurants, but very French and very aloof. (I’m sorry, that was redundant.) They serve things such as noisette of fulmars over crepe de soire, a la Rouen. So you have to ask.
I am not making this up. AW is me, and AC is the aloof captain.
AW: How is this fish cooked?
AC: Lovely, sir, quite nicely.
AW: But how exactly is is prepared?
AC: In a pan sir.
AW: What occurs to the pan?
AC: Why it is heated.
AW: How is it heated?
AC: At the stove.
AW: So the fish is pan seared?
AC: Of course not, it is roasted.
I was so exhausted I had a second drink. It did remind me of an experience in the English countryside, when I desperately needed American junk food, and we found the equivalent of a TGI Friday’s.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” I told the server, but then worried about some overloaded cheddar or something, I said, “What kind of cheese do you put on that?”
“Melted,” she said.
© Alan Weiss 2015