Rant: Small plates, big pain
We met friends at a trendy restaurant recently. The waiter explained that the plates were "sharing size". When asked to clarify, he said, stiffly, "Somewhere between tapas and a full portion. We suggest three mains and three starters per table."
We then entered into the tedious selection process, to ensure everyone wanted each dish, because we were sharing. Eventually we selected seven dishes.
It's bad enough to negotiate with one person ("If you're having the duck, then I could have the lamb and we'll get a red, but if I wanted the oysters...").
Four or five people takes ordering into the foodie equivalent of fractals. My choice, salmon tartare, was approved.
Two plates arrived; 45 minutes passed, then came two salads, then the other three all at once. Le Duc said, "I'm not having any salad." Others heard him say this. But he wanted a taste, then suddenly hoovered half the plate without noticing.
When my salmon came, Le Duc and his Falstaffian buddy hit it like seagulls on a hamburger. I liked it, but the fragment I ate made a definitive opinion impossible.
Dessert was a tiny ramekin of something toffee. I left the restaurant thinking about where I could grab a slice. Our share cost the equivalent of four solid meals at a good Mom and Pop joint.
I want my meal, dammit. Small plates are fine in their original incarnation, as bites that tide you over until a later dinner or mitigate cocktails, but they are unsatisfying when shared four ways.
Before the small plates fad, restaurants provided a sort of Marxist menu that ranged from 22 oz. steaks to a nice light piece of fish: to each according to his needs. Your courses, chosen to accord with your appetite, came in a comforting, choreographed procession.
Now, a table is expected to share fitfully-appearing food that fits in the palm of a hand, served in whatever order the mysterious "The Kitchen" decides. Apparently The Kitchen likes long breaks, perhaps to catch an episode of "Girls".
And it's yucky, hygiene-wise. I'd rather swap microbes by kissing my friends than by commingling in communal plates for hours.
I've put my hungry foot down and told Le Duc that I'll share two ways, but that's the limit unless of course it's Chinese, but they give you lots.
Naomi Klein and Avi Lewis were dining there with their moon-faced baby; since they made the excellent documentary, "The Take", might they follow that with "The Plate", exposing this dining delusion?
PS. The style part
So, what did I wear to this non-meal? A Mongolian lamb-trimmed sweater-jacket, black jeans and a grey cashmere tee. No worry about jeans feeling snug after "all that food"!
We then entered into the tedious selection process, to ensure everyone wanted each dish, because we were sharing. Eventually we selected seven dishes. It's bad enough to negotiate with one person ("If you're having the duck, then I could have the lamb and we'll get a red, but if I wanted the oysters...").
Four or five people takes ordering into the foodie equivalent of fractals. My choice, salmon tartare, was approved.
Two plates arrived; 45 minutes passed, then came two salads, then the other three all at once. Le Duc said, "I'm not having any salad." Others heard him say this. But he wanted a taste, then suddenly hoovered half the plate without noticing.
When my salmon came, Le Duc and his Falstaffian buddy hit it like seagulls on a hamburger. I liked it, but the fragment I ate made a definitive opinion impossible.
Dessert was a tiny ramekin of something toffee. I left the restaurant thinking about where I could grab a slice. Our share cost the equivalent of four solid meals at a good Mom and Pop joint.
I want my meal, dammit. Small plates are fine in their original incarnation, as bites that tide you over until a later dinner or mitigate cocktails, but they are unsatisfying when shared four ways.
Before the small plates fad, restaurants provided a sort of Marxist menu that ranged from 22 oz. steaks to a nice light piece of fish: to each according to his needs. Your courses, chosen to accord with your appetite, came in a comforting, choreographed procession.
Now, a table is expected to share fitfully-appearing food that fits in the palm of a hand, served in whatever order the mysterious "The Kitchen" decides. Apparently The Kitchen likes long breaks, perhaps to catch an episode of "Girls".
And it's yucky, hygiene-wise. I'd rather swap microbes by kissing my friends than by commingling in communal plates for hours.
I've put my hungry foot down and told Le Duc that I'll share two ways, but that's the limit unless of course it's Chinese, but they give you lots.
Naomi Klein and Avi Lewis were dining there with their moon-faced baby; since they made the excellent documentary, "The Take", might they follow that with "The Plate", exposing this dining delusion?
PS. The style part
So, what did I wear to this non-meal? A Mongolian lamb-trimmed sweater-jacket, black jeans and a grey cashmere tee. No worry about jeans feeling snug after "all that food"!
Comments
C.
When we go out for tapas here in Madrid, we order a "ración," which is a rather hefty serving, designed to share. For four people, four raciones will do the trick nicely, five or six if they're REALLY ravenous. That said, they don't all come out of the kitchen at the same time, but since we're not in a fancy restaurant, it's expected.
What I really don't understand is why the "small plates" still have close to the same price, if not the same price, as an entree at a comparable restaurant. LIke Rubiatonta says, it's a scam.
I like to share with my daughter or husband or BFF but any more than that and it gets complicated.
Chinese being the exception.
Rubi: I didn't want the mall at once but at one point it took 45 min. for the next installment!
Adrienne Taylor Shubin: Yes, a way to drive up the cheque. What I really resented was the waiter telling us "the plates are to share". I wanted to ask, "What if we don't"?
JaninJabbit: Sounds like my ideal place! The food was not gross, just the germ-mingling.
Une Femme: Agree, and especially in France i have ordered two appetizers instead of two full courses, but not to share! (In France that used to get you the fish eye but not anymore.)
I do like getting a chance to sample from others, though, and get cranky if Paul decides to order something I was going to get. . . why doesn't he know that he's supposed to provide me some variety?!
I hope you expressed your disappointment to the waiter / owner...
Anne (Playing with Scarves)
Silly fads aside, though, North American restaurant cooking has vastly improved in my lifetime. There were 3 or 4 decent restaurants in our city when we moved here 25 years ago; now there are hundreds, and more in the suburbs. The trend toward freshly prepared organic local produce, and mindfully raised and harvested animals and fish is a welcome improvement, too. (Bless you, Alice Waters!) Even near our house in the mountains a few intrepid chefs are making great food, and we support them by eating in their places as often as possible, especially in the off-season. The daughter of a restauranteur, I know how hard it is to make a living this way. Those who do it for love, and do it well, are to be cherished.
C.
P.S. Thanks for feeding our curiosity with those fashion details at the end of your post!
materfamilias: Yes, I have long seen tapas ordered and eaten by the intended recipient. Ah yes, the French dining disapproval. This is the dark side of an intense food culture: codifying and telling others how to manage their palate and appetite.
playingwithscarves: No, I did not as I was in another city and my friends chose the restaurant. They did see the flaws in the place, though.
C.: I'm anti-foam and silly smears, too- almost as much as the recitation of every ingredient as the plate (cooling rapidly) is placed in front of you. I've worked in restaurants and know the economics of making a profit. There are many places in my city who serve the kind of food you describe and those are the places I'll ardently support.
Swissy: See you there!
No one goes out for dinner for Tapas.
Another trend here is to feature locally sourced foods which I support wholeheartedly. However, it gets old when they announce each thing brought to the table along with where and what enterprise produced it. Like advertising at dinner.
If the tapas are cheap and plentiful then I'm quite happy to share. Four of us had an absolute feast at a place that went out of business a few weeks later 'cos they couldn't make enough money. Really sad that they closed down as the food was incredible! (drools quietly)
Cheers,
Eleanorjane
Kathy: Yes, especially in North American where portions are often so large, 2 appetizers make sense.