Georgette, Paris

Georgette
29, rue Saint-Georges
Paris, France 75009

Date of Last Visit: Thursday, June 4, 2009

The Victim: Colleague from Paris office

The Damage: Unknown, he paid.

The Background: Every so often, I learn something new about myself. In hindsight, many of these new things are maybe not surprising. But for me, at the time, they’re revelations.

So it was when my co-worker took me out to lunch in Paris. He took me to the little cafe, Georgette, in the 9th. He had heard good things from his co-workers. And I’d generally agree with those good things. But…

The Entrance: Georgette is sunny and open and colorful. It seems to be run by women and a quick look at Zagats confirms that. We grab a seat and a server promptly arrives at our table. She speaks to both of us, but as I can only ask for the check in French, I have no idea what she’s saying.

My colleague looks at me and looks at the menu (he’s holding two: mine, his) and then he looks back at me. He says, “Do you like prawns?” I say “Well, yes, prawns are okay.” (Knowing in the back of my mind that this is France and they will be prawns served still in their shells, which I just am not good with.)

He hands the menus back to the server and it’s done.

It’s done.

He’s ordered my food for me. I haven’t even had a chance to look at the menu. (And while I can’t speak French, I know enough food nouns to be dangerous.) And really, he hasn’t looked at the menu either!

I am seething.

Seething! I don’t even know what I’m having. I have no idea what just transpired. How did this happen?

I ask my colleague if the prawns are going to be served in their shells, and he says, “Maybe. Probably.” And I watch plate after plate come out of the kitchen and indeed, the prawns are served in their shells.

I wouldn’t describe myself as a person who gets angry–tense, yes, angry no. But the wave of anger I felt rushing over me as I thought of all the delicious things on that menu that I would never get to try…arrggghhh. I wanted to poke somebody’s eyes out with the toothpicks that came with our tiny little olives.

The Food: “It” arrives. And it’s fine. The shells on the prawns have already been prepared so they can be removed easily. It’s a fresh summery dish. But honestly, I can’t concentrate on it because I seriously WANT TO SEE THE MENU.

The Verdict: Georgette was nice. But warning: unless it’s Chinese or tapas, don’t order my food for me. Or I’ll poke your eyes out.

P.S. I know this is a terrible “restaurant review.” I also know that I am a terrible person. Sorry.