Hallelujah! The Welcome Table_ A Lifetime of Memories With Recipes - Maya Angelou [27]
He asked me in French if I had ever visited a first-class restaurant. I replied, “No, but I am young and certainly I will do so in my life.”
He nodded. I told him about Miss Ross. I described her age and her loneliness. I said I didn’t have much money but that I’d like to bring her to his restaurant for one great dinner. It might be her first and last time to have a superb French meal. His countenance softened and he called two waiters and repeated my story. I was invited inside to a table where the four of us sat down and pored over the menu.
The experts chose a pate to start, then molded eggs polignac for our second course. We would be served veal medallions for our entree. A waiter showed me my bill. I was amazed at how little I was charged. Then I realized the maître d’ had reduced the price because of my story.
On the designated night, Miss Ross and I got out of a taxi. We had dressed in our best and made ourselves up to go out for a fancy Parisian evening.
We were greeted at the door as if we were royalty. Every waiter made his way by to say hello. Obviously our tale had been told to the entire staff. The maître d’ seated us and within seconds there was a crowd of waiters around the table bringing still and carbonated water, serving bread and butter, and placing salt and pepper and mustard.
To my surprise, Miss Ross was a refreshing dinner guest. She told charming stories and had a ready repartee. When the meal was served, I sat at attention to observe how she would enjoy her two-star dinner.
She tasted the pate. She said she really liked that. She had long been partial to liverwurst but preferred it on white bread with a thick slab of raw onions and lots of mayonnaise. The molded eggs polignac also delighted Miss Ross. The staff sent approving nods around the room as the veal was served because Miss Ross made a slight smacking sound and rubbed her hands together.
She tasted the meat. “Now this is good.” She took another bite of the medallions. The nearest waiter recorded her approval and sent her reaction to his colleagues.
Miss Ross said, “This is close to perfect. These people can truly cook.”
I was reminded of my mother’s actions in restaurants. When she was particularly pleased with a dinner, she would send a glass of wine to the chef. I didn’t think I had enough money for that gesture, but I was floating in self-admiration until I heard Miss Ross say, “All this needs is a little Tabasco.”
I looked at her, knowing that I had to dissuade her from asking the waiter to bring her the spicy sauce. But as I turned, Miss Ross was extricating a slim bottle of Tabasco from her purse.
“This is going to make this meat right perfect. I mean perfect.”
She shook the bottle over the medallions, then she closed the bottle and placed it back in her purse.
The waiters were horrified. Although stricken, at least they were able to move around the restaurant. The maître d’hôtel was so shocked, however, that he disappeared from the floor, and I confess I wanted to join him.
I have grown a little since that incident. I’ve come to believe that each diner should be free to flavor her dish as she wants it. For no matter how wonderfully trained the chef, no matter how delicate his or her sensitivity, taste buds are as individual as fingerprints. Mine are mine and yours are yours and vive la difference.
I offer you here my veal medallions recipe. BYOT (bring your own Tabasco). It’s optional.
Veal Medallions
SERVES 6
1½ pounds thin veal escallops
All-purpose flour
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
2 cups mushroom buttons
1 cup fruity white wine
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
Dust veal with flour, and in large sautê pan brown quickly on both sides in 1½ tablespoons butter mixed with oil. Remove veal, and season with salt and pepper. Keep warm.
Sautê mushrooms