Les Rognons

Last night Anna and I went to dinner with Ian (a friend of mine from GW) at this restaurant called Polidor that was in Ian's guide book.  It had a great atmosphere and, like all other French eating establishments, very slow service.  We were sitting by the entrance, and all night we were in a constant battle with the door.  There was a curtain in front of it to help keep out the cold, but people would stand there in the doorway with the curtains open, letting all the cold in from when the door opened.  The real geniuses would open the door, stand there with it open, and just kind of hang out while they checked out the restaurant and decided whether or not they wanted to actually come in.  We were constantly asking people to close the door, and when they didn't listen to us or exited without closing it, Anna had to reach over and push it closed.  Keep in mind that it was super cold and rainy last night and we were in a warm restaurant.  The temperature difference created quite a chilly situation.

Now, while that door story might seem like the event of the night, something even more important happened at the restaurant: I made my first (and hopefully last) ordering faux pas.  We were all three getting the 22 euro deal that included an entree, main course, and dessert.  Ian and I got the pumpkin soup for an entree (yummy!!!) and ice cream for dessert (best chocolate ice cream I've had in a while).  And for the main course? Well, Anna and Ian went for beef bourguignon, and I somehow got it into my head that the word for pork was rognon, which it is not.  For the record, the word for pork in French is porc.  Brilliant.  So turns out I ordered kidneys.  How did I finally figure this out? Why I ate some, of course.  Suffice it to say, I did not like them.  The texture is very dense and almost mushroom like, which didn't immediately bother me, but it started to after 3 bites.  Then there was the taste.  It's exactly what you would imagine innards should taste like.  There's this weird aftertaste that you can just tell comes from the inside of an animal's organs.  Not a pleasant eating experience.  I must say, though, I am proud of myself for figuring out that I don't like kidneys by actually trying kidneys without knowing that they were kidneys and therefore brining all my preconceptions about kidneys to the table.  So, go me...?

My lunch was much better yesterday.  I went to Les Halles, which is the HUGE mall that is literally like a zoo these days because of the winter sales that are going on.  I went to H&M and finally got some black flats.  Anyway, the road outside of Les Halles is full of places to eat, and I chose this restaurant called Flam's, which is short for Flammekueche.  Flammekueche is an Alsacien flat pizza with a super thin crust and not your usual pizza toppings (also they don't use pizza sauce, so it's not really all that pizza-like).  I really liked it and I knew what I was ordering and there were no surprises there.  Safe, but still something new.  And not kidneys.