At the end of the day....

...it gets dark.

Into the early hours of this morning, we drank our wine and carried on our family banter. We were determined to be the last to leave and that was proving to be difficult. We wanted to spend some more time with Tom who was finishing up his ordering for the next day, but once done, he could join us to, at last, help us savour the amazing Merlot we had been enjoying that had gone tantalising well with the succulent steak he had earlier prepared for us.

B of course was not drinking being the DD, so I confess the champagne and two botttles of Merlot were beginning to impair my judgement. I needed help, someone to share the grape dancing across the palette. I was concerned my abiity to discern it's quality was diminishing as I tried to give some useful birthday instruction to Gussy on how to drink and enjoy, beyond emptying the contents of his glass in one swift movement.

Earlier, I had been invited into the kitchen to take some photographs of Tom at work which he wanted for prosperity. It was the most amazing spectacle.

Put aside the fact it was my son performing, the frantic co-ordination of commands and actions was impalpable and near impossible to capture. I could not anticipate the next move and was never ready for it. Every action was captured too late and not until I switched to continuous shooting did I even begin to get close. 6, 8 10, 12 pans on different rings being continually shaken, flipped, moved around like musical chairs. Checks being deciphered and screamed out from the pass. How did they know who he was shouting at? How could they hear what he was shouting. The only retort was "Yes Chef!"...so clearly they got it.

A mass of flames, of sauces being calmly yet speedily spooned over meats and fish, plates being carefully manicured with every spec of oil or sauce being meticulously removed so as not to disturb presentation, all the while, the Maitre'D walking through the passe shouting some orders and waitresses asking how long before their next customer can enjoy the explotion of taste on their palette.

All the while, frantic and yet apparantly calm and in control, He appeared to completely block out the noise that engulfed him as he carefullly constructed his masterpiece. Then task completed, as if to deliberately contradict my assumption, he then shouts his answer back to both swiftly followed by another pointed command to a commis chef....as so it went on throughout my short visit. (I did get some shots).

I walked back out into what I then realised was the tranquilty of the restaurant. It reminded me of the serene duck on water analogy where beneath the surface, the paddling was frantic. Not sure the public fully appreciate the intensity of effort to put fish on dish!

I have always loved the atmoshere and Parisian Bistro ambiance of Le Vacherin. The Chef Patron has done a great job with his flagship. It was late, I had had a glass too many, but I nonetheless tried to capture that ambience and visually describe to you at least the tranquil side of my evening.