Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

My Dinner With Esory, IIb [7 Thory 4261]

Those of you who have never been to Gounne Gousse should probably be made to understand that Gounne Gousse is not a traditional fancy formal restaurant with a Rassimel owner and a Rassimel head chef. Gounne Gousse is a determinedly slightly unconventional slightly fancy slightly formal restaurant with a Herethroy owner and an Orren head chef. This makes it:

  1. An upper-class establishment of alimentation, yet one at which I was very unlikely to run into Hezimikkinen.
  2. Suitable for a dinner-which-is-not-a-date with a friend of suitable rank, species, and gender.
  3. Slightly cheaper than an really truly traditional fancy formal restaurant with a Rassimel owner and a Rassimel head chef.
  4. Utterly berserk with their amuse-bouches.

An amuse-bouche is a little bit of silly food on a small warped wooden plate, served before the menu is recited: a custom at many traditional fancy formal restaurants. At Gounne Gousse, it was: a thin film of raw fish fillet, surrounding thread-thin strands of fourteen or fifteen different pungent vegetables and three different flavors of mayonnaise, with the initials GG seared in the top of the fillet. To the left side of that was a small glowing pyramid of pungent cheese, with a drop of raspberry liqueur sauce hovering over the point. To the left side of that was an elegant little scroll of shaved cucumber, with the letters YsV painted on it in golden color -- saffronated eggyolk, I think. Also I think that YsV is the chef's initials, though for all I know it's the chef's daughter's pony's initials.

Me:"After such an introduction, my tongue is overwhelmed with complex subtleties, or, at any rate, subtle complexities. For dinner I shall have raw chub-beetles and porridge."

Esory:"You did say the chef was Orren, didn't you?"

Me:"Slootly! I saw her myself!"

Esory:"Was she, perhaps, the kind of Orren who has a long fluffy non-triangular tail which wags a great deal, tall pointy ears, a longish muzzle with sharp teeth, and who never, ever goes into Wild Rushes?"

Me:"What kind of Orren is that, Esory?"

Esory:"A most rare and unusual kind of Orren. The kind who most people might call a 'Cani'. With this amount of subtle subtlety and complex complexity, one might suspect a Cani chef. And I did ask that we not have one of those."

Me:"My dear Esory, I can tell the difference between a Cani and an Orren."

Esory:"Can you, though? Rumor has it that, once, you have been remarkably easy to mistake for an Orren yourself. To say nothing of a Sleeth."

Me:"I don't think so many people have Cloak of Another God grafted!"

Esory:"A feeble excuse. You, yourself, could have bound a casting of it and given it to them."

Me:"Yes, I could, but I have not done so for a chef. I have only done it once, and that once is paying for your dinner."

Esory:"Now I am sure it is the chef."

Me:"I am slootly sure it is not! The chef would hardly pay cash to let me into her own restaurant."

Which is to say, she banters just like any reasonable noble, even if she technically isn't one exactly.

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