Orange hours
At this fairly expensive restaurant, all was well - we'd experienced a fantastic entrée, the wine was perfect - until my main course of seabass arrived on a plate which had brightly painted fish all around the edge. Brightly painted as in orange, yellow, pink, blue, maybe touches of green, though by that stage, I was so blinded by the plate that I could barely taste the food, let alone remember the number of colours. Rather unfortunate, because the seabass was very nicely done. Mind you, the only way I could really tell was to eat with my eyes shut. Apart from being reminded at every mouthful that it was truly fish I was eating, the clash of colours spoiled the presentation; the delectable sauce of raisins and pine nuts looked extremely dull and uninteresting, as did the accompanying spinach which was cooked to perfection. Such a shame! Good food can be so easily ruined by the abuse of aesthetics.
The dessert was lovely, but we were rushing off to see The Hours, and decided to skip the coffee.
I enjoyed The Hours very much - a solemn film addressing choices, especially in the lives of women. The music is by Philip Glass, whose minimalism never fails to surprise me with its sensitivity, persistency and intensity. No reedy panflutes or prescribed orchestral crescendos here.
Posted by sniffles at February 23, 2003 01:29 PM