New Job In Fine Dining Prints

Opening the Barrel

"Your food didn't melt, young man... this is the soup course."

"The menu just says fried fish, but may I give you a more compelling, surprisingly lyrical description?"

"Monsieur, si vous plaît. I'm sure I ordered the fusilli and not the Fusilier."

Party of two? No, it was quite a large party.

"Vintage? What would you like it to be?"

"You'll love this. It's swarthy yet munificent, didactic and gregarious with hints of dogma."

'This is one of our most recent vintages!'

"I have no idea what, hic, went wrong. I did everything, hic, Mario Batali said."

"Waiter! Two of your finest menus!"

'Why, of course I remember our first date -- I had filet mignon, potatoes au gratin, sauteed....'

Restaurant Francais: All you can pronounce £30.

Cut out and keep your own Christmas Caterer.

'Er . . . and a fork for me...'

"Tonight, perhaps Mrs. Lewis would prefer this quiet little table for two from which to send back her entrée?"

'Eight years old, huh? If it's so good, why didn't somebody drink it eight years ago?'

'Waiter...my entrée fell over.'

"Compliments to the chef! Pass it on."

'Wait until you taste the artisanal water. It's not to be believed.'

"Is the MSG local?"

'No, I'm not the sommelier; in fact, I don't even work here - I've just always wanted to try this wine.'

Gaston's Gourmet Truckstop

"Which wine would you pair with the complimentary bread and butter?"

Hamish Harris. The boy bon vivant.

'I'm sure M'lady will appreciate the mashed potatoes. Our chef uses only grass-fed single-udder butter.'

"Everything taste so divinely artisanal."

"Grass...Grass and more damn grass... What I wouldn't give for a lightly poached Dover sole with a garlic infused tarragon sauce."

'Dang! I never now if the sommelier is messing with me.'

'Your stab at ordering the wine in French went well.'

'So it's the Mumm's Cordon Rouge, '98 Pouilly-Fuisse, '86 Chateau Margaux, and the '92 Barsac - would you like any food?'

"You have a big check because you had a big wine."

'Pigs feet, sir?' 'Are they pickled?'

'It's the essence of springtime. You're really enjoying it.'

'Is this still America?'

'You're lucky there, Sir. That's the last one in the world.'