I know, the word restaurant comes first in this blog’s name, and lots of people probably come looking for interesting stuff about the restaurant, and they get me and my crap old boring novel and a cat instead. I really should have called it a restaurant and a novel and a cat, but I didn’t think at the time…
The thing is, I’m a bit timid about the restaurant. A restaurant is about people. One one side, it’s customers having a good time (we hope!), and on the other it’s people working hard. The customers go all soggy when I point a camera at them, and the restaurant staff are often just too busy to stop while I bring my posy magazine habits to them and try to rearrange the coriander for a pic when they are in a rush. So, I can’t really show you the incredibly tasty souris d’agneau (lamb shanks) that the new chef Elie serves on couscous, which I had yesterday.
However, I can show you a bit of restaurant life that happens all the time. I love this pic, not arranged at all. It’s Sunday afternoon: Mika and Manu the waiters plus Yen the barman are hanging out with a drink after a good lunchtime service, they’re taking home the leftover baguettes, and they’re smoking cigarettes chatting. They’ve got their bread and wine on the table, and it looks like this.
Joel agrees, but from a less well-acquainted angle. When I sighed to him, writing a novel is hard, he trotted past on his way to watch the sunset from our balcony and said, ‘Of course. If it was easy, I would have done it.’ I love it when the truth of things is as obvious as this.