I once ordered pasta in a Paris restaurant without knowing that the dish contained twelve chicken livers. (I counted.) I ate one of the livers, and left the rest of them—just ate the pasta. A worried waitress came to my table after the dish was cleared away and said that the chef was heartbroken and that I would not be charged for the meal. I replied that these were the best chicken livers I’d ever had in my life, they were superb chicken livers…but I did not like chicken livers. And insisted on paying for the meal, and leaving a good tip. In France, food is taken very seriously, and I liked the restaurant and didn’t want the chef to be mad at me!
I once ordered pasta in a Paris restaurant without knowing that the dish contained twelve chicken livers. (I counted.) I ate one of the livers, and left the rest of them—just ate the pasta. A worried waitress came to my table after the dish was cleared away and said that the chef was heartbroken and that I would not be charged for the meal. I replied that these were the best chicken livers I’d ever had in my life, they were superb chicken livers…but I did not like chicken livers. And insisted on paying for the meal, and leaving a good tip. In France, food is taken very seriously, and I liked the restaurant and didn’t want the chef to be mad at me!