dinner story
Sep. 15th, 2011 07:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7A friend called the other day; he's thinking of opening his own bistro and vaguely considering moving to Buffalo to do so. I told him of the various neighborhoods and restaurants in the area, and one of them was this little place we enjoy a lot but haven't visited in a while, called Bistro Europa. It made me want to go back there, so we did, and I sent him an email with the story of it. I'm posting it here since I want to remember too.
(I don't know if these cuts transfer over from DW, but I hope so.)
Z and I went there for dinner tonight because we realized we hadn't
been in a long time. So long the place had been sold, it turns out.
Some young guy owns it; sounded like he and the bartender were
co-owners. Z and I walk in, the place is deserted, and the bartender
asks if we have a reservation. I thought he was kidding, but it turned
out he had every table in the place booked-- 7:00, 7:10, 7:15, 7:30,
and that's all the tables. So we sat at the bar, where it was comfy.
We're eating our appetizer (squash blossom quesadillas with really
nice corn tortillas that might've been homemade by somebody), and two
of the chefs come through a door and disappear through the doorway
behind the bar carrying a huge platter with about a third of a whole
pig on it, including an entire leg with hoof attached.
I can see them throughout the rest of the meal, occasionally working
on taking the pig apart. They keep dropping some crucial piece of
equipment, and cussing, and since the doorway's just blocked with a
piece of nicely-printed fabric, we can see/hear them. The bartender
keeps walking over and nonchalantly picking up the piece of equipment,
whatever it is, and washing it off in the bar sink and putting it back
on the counter just past the curtain.
Dinner comes and it's awesome-- I got braised rabbit, Z got steak
frites-- and the bartender's talking to a regular about how they had
three catering gigs the week before and they all nearly died. As we're
finishing, the chef/owner catches sight of the regular and comes out
to talk to him, repeating the story of the catering gigs. ("I've been
through six pigs this week," he says.) One was a wedding, at Old Fort
Niagara (a French and Indian / 1812 fort on the Niagara frontier)--
the kitchen had one light bulb, there were no lights outside, he's
trying to grill fish by the light of his headlights, the gas runs out,
he winds up hacking logs with an axe to cook the fish over wood, it
probably shaved two years off his life. He concludes with, "Well,
chefs never do live very long," and goes back to the kitchen. Then he
comes back out and sits at the table behind me with another pair of
regulars, and regales them with the story of another disaster catering
gig.
"The best part," he says, "is at like three in the morning as I'm
driving home-- and I gotta open the restaurant the next day, of
course, because of course we can't close-- and this shooting star goes
by. And it's not just some little shooting star, it's like this-- it's
this huge asteroid, like I'm looking for an explosion when it lands--
streaking across the sky in front of me. And I think, it's a sign.
It's a sign! I gotta stop doing catering jobs, or the world's gonna
end."
(I don't know if these cuts transfer over from DW, but I hope so.)
Z and I went there for dinner tonight because we realized we hadn't
been in a long time. So long the place had been sold, it turns out.
Some young guy owns it; sounded like he and the bartender were
co-owners. Z and I walk in, the place is deserted, and the bartender
asks if we have a reservation. I thought he was kidding, but it turned
out he had every table in the place booked-- 7:00, 7:10, 7:15, 7:30,
and that's all the tables. So we sat at the bar, where it was comfy.
We're eating our appetizer (squash blossom quesadillas with really
nice corn tortillas that might've been homemade by somebody), and two
of the chefs come through a door and disappear through the doorway
behind the bar carrying a huge platter with about a third of a whole
pig on it, including an entire leg with hoof attached.
I can see them throughout the rest of the meal, occasionally working
on taking the pig apart. They keep dropping some crucial piece of
equipment, and cussing, and since the doorway's just blocked with a
piece of nicely-printed fabric, we can see/hear them. The bartender
keeps walking over and nonchalantly picking up the piece of equipment,
whatever it is, and washing it off in the bar sink and putting it back
on the counter just past the curtain.
Dinner comes and it's awesome-- I got braised rabbit, Z got steak
frites-- and the bartender's talking to a regular about how they had
three catering gigs the week before and they all nearly died. As we're
finishing, the chef/owner catches sight of the regular and comes out
to talk to him, repeating the story of the catering gigs. ("I've been
through six pigs this week," he says.) One was a wedding, at Old Fort
Niagara (a French and Indian / 1812 fort on the Niagara frontier)--
the kitchen had one light bulb, there were no lights outside, he's
trying to grill fish by the light of his headlights, the gas runs out,
he winds up hacking logs with an axe to cook the fish over wood, it
probably shaved two years off his life. He concludes with, "Well,
chefs never do live very long," and goes back to the kitchen. Then he
comes back out and sits at the table behind me with another pair of
regulars, and regales them with the story of another disaster catering
gig.
"The best part," he says, "is at like three in the morning as I'm
driving home-- and I gotta open the restaurant the next day, of
course, because of course we can't close-- and this shooting star goes
by. And it's not just some little shooting star, it's like this-- it's
this huge asteroid, like I'm looking for an explosion when it lands--
streaking across the sky in front of me. And I think, it's a sign.
It's a sign! I gotta stop doing catering jobs, or the world's gonna
end."
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-15 04:33 pm (UTC)ALSO I am working on a project at the old Horsefeathers building at connecticut and normal and in the future (ETA next spring) we're opening it as a producer-driven market with an attached small bistro... we're looking for a chef to manage/run it... might be something your friend is interested in?
Here is our Food Day event page: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=271031086259492 - we can provide him more info if he's interested but at least you can check out the space before renovations!