Mostly about Food

7-6
First week of the Paris music program completed. It has been a wild ride so far, with a variety classes, but also a surprisingly generous serving of free time on the side. I am surrounded by very talented musicians, and feel very out of place, and very at-home at the same time.
    I've spent about 100 euros in cash this week, plus some on the credit card; as much as it was my goal to eat ultra-frugally this trip, it is impossible to get to know one's classmates and the local flavor without some fiscal laxity.
      Tonight was an interesting one: 6 of us (three Westminsterians, two Georgians, and an Australian) made our way through some train transfers to arrive at a place that was ultimately within fairly close walking distance of the school we had set out from.  The line was out the door of the Buillon Charter restaurant but moved as quickly as a queue line for a roller coaster.  One member of our cohort had come here with family friends a few days prior and was excited to introduce the experience to us.  It was the feeding troth of the city.  The large room we entered into reminded me of a large Philadelphian courtroom lined with paintings, but it was packed with too many tables to have the semblance of governmental order (snort), and the tables with too many people to create an atmosphere other than chaos.  This broke any and all rules I might have come to learn and appreciate about the pace of European dining.  Imagine the subway at rush hour, but with tables and servers awaiting the hordes of people bursting from the train doors.
           A server came out the queue frequently to find smaller parties as vacancies opened up, again not unlike a roller coaster line.  We were admitted, and as I approached the table, two servers wiped down a table, threw down place settings, and disappeared into the feeding frenzy before I fully realized what was happening.  They had timed our arrival at the table so that we could watch it being turned over from start to finish as we approached, and squeeze by the servers into our seats without having to pause to wait for them to finish the chore. It seemed excessively rushed of a maneuver, but it was all part of the well-oiled machine.  We sat, and a woman in her 30's rushed tot he table to hand out menus and left without uttering a word.  She was IN THE ZONE, how many tables she was serving I can't guess, if "serving" be the right word.  I would expect the same enthusiasm from someone pouring slop into the pig troth, yet the efficiency was of an ER physician.  I, being at the far end of the table, did not catch half of what she said when she returned, but I think she may have said something to the effect of "what do you want" or maybe even "ok go."  I ordered escargot for 6.50, and she scribbled (along with the other orders) directly onto the paper tablecloth.  Before her pen had hardly finished its swift, barely legible etching, her eyes were directed away from us at her next target, her foot was even mid-stride towards the neighboring table.  Questions about the menu (it was in French, after all)  were, well, out of the question; hardly would the plaintive words "what is this" be out of our mouths  when she would roll her eyes, point at the menu, and snap a one-word response: "Chicken - pork - duck" omitting translations of the qualifying details that we deemed important.  Our translators and pocket dictionaries were ill equipped for this level of dining, so we were shooting blindfolded.  My kind of restaurant: I am always up for trying something new.  The snails were delicious; my friend across from me gave me the tutorial of holding the snail with the clamp and pulling out the little guy by his head with a small two-pronged fork.  It immediately reminded me of shellfish from home, like the chewy neck of a clam.  They were hot and came in a delicious green sauce.  The duck was equally yummy, like the dark meat of turkey.  You couldn't have convinced me to anticipate the quality of the food, but apparently this place is a favorite of the locals and serves good food at the right price.  They don't need friendly service for a good dining experience here, since the waitstaff aren't working for tip, so we were getting the true local treatment.  Conversation was relaxed and low-key; we ventured into holistic medicine when the usual musical discourse ran dry.  A pleasant group of people.  The server grabbed our plates with the same tour de force she served them with, but her demeanor had relaxed in intensity; she was still blunt but smiled occasionally; my sense is she has a strong nurturing quality that she consciously represses when at work.  The most impressive feat was how she tallied our meal prices (desserts included; we were really ordering blind on those) on the tablecloth from memory; we watched in amazement as she added all the columns quickly and gave us our total.  As we slowly pulled out our cash and bantered about who was paying what, I'm sure we all felt a little inept, since we couldn't add nearly as quickly as our server; the image in my mind is one of a math team blown out of the water by the competition and left in a daze to stare at their figures. After finding the total several times we finally reached the point where we could say our goodbyes and exit the building.  I'm looking forward to going back.