Two of Jim’s most outgoing and sociable office mates are leaving Japan this week, so they arranged a farewell dinner for themselves at the Officers’ Club. Somehow they convinced the management and chefs to offer an Escoffier Dinner smack dab in the middle of the week, on the condition that enough of their coworkers made reservations to make the endeavor worthwhile for the chefs. These sorts of things are normally reserved for the weekend, since each course is paired with a suitable wine, which could make getting up for work the next day difficult for some people. (Normally, I would fall into this category, but since I am the designated driver this evening, the point is moot.)
For those of you not familiar with this type of meal, “Escoffier” is French for “gross things people wouldn’t normally eat if we called them by their English names.” The chefs prepare elaborate dishes of amazingly tiny proportions, combining ingredients that are aisles apart in the grocery store for a very good reason. In the past, Escoffier dinners at the O Club have been chock full of seafood, making them an automatic pass for Jim. Tonight’s menu was light on seafood, but ingredients in four of the seven courses still worried me. Amazingly, Mikey’s words of advice from the Life cereal commercials were very appropriate this evening—“Try it, you’ll like it!”
I like salmon, but am not a big fan of smoked salmon, so I had my doubts about the appetizer, a “satiny-smooth mixture” of smoked salmon and gelled consommé. The taste was not bad; the texture was a bit weird, and probably not something I’d order again on my own. You can’t go wrong with the second course, a salad, unless of course you add foie gras to it. In my book, there is nothing you can do to liver—blend it up and mold it in a pretty shape, add exotic spices, give it a fancy French name—that will make it palatable. I wasn’t holding out much hope for the soup course, either, a chilled watermelon soup garnished with goat cheese and basil. Never in a million years would I have thought to mix those three items together, but the combination was surprisingly delicious, and something I probably would order again.
The first entrée, and the fourth worrisome dish, was quail with soba noodles and asparagus. I've only seen quail on the hoof in my grandparents' yard, never on a dinner plate, and I was taken aback by just how small a bird it is under those feathers. It should have been served with a scalpel and forceps, because trying to get the meat off tiny fragile little quail bones with a traditional knife and fork caused unspeakable carnage. Maybe it was meant to be eaten with your fingers, but that just seemed wrong for what could have been a meal served in a five-star restaurant. Guess I’ll have to see what Google says about quail-eating-etiquette.
A palate cleanser of mikan (Japanese tangerine) sorbet was served next, and I gladly would have eaten a bucket of it. Not only because it was so refreshing and delicious, but because every course so far had been so small. I realize that you can’t have full American-size servings of every dish when you are eating a seven-course meal, but with only two courses to go, I was planning a McDonald’s drive-thru run.
Just from the description on the menu, the second entrée initially held the most promise for me as most likely to be liked. The seared beef tenderloin with shiitake lived up to my expectations, and I even got to snitch the uneaten mushrooms from Jim’s plate. However, with about three bites to go, everything we had eaten so far finally caught up with me, and I began scaling down my McDonald’s order. And by the time I finished my dessert of grilled pound cake covered with vanilla yogurt and fresh peaches, I hadn’t room for even a single Chicken McNugget.
As a culinary adventure, this was certainly a memorable night. As a farewell dinner, it left a little to be desired since there was no time between courses to mingle with the guests of honor. Nevertheless, thank you Adam and Brenda for the opportunity to expand my gastronomic repertoire. Your willingness to try new things, and your encouragement for others to join you in such adventures will be missed!
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