I haven't left the house in two days except to eat a poutine and visit Jarry Park. Leaving the house when it's freezing outside is challenging, but it sometimes has its rewards. Yesterday's sunset was my reward:
I wish I could say as much for my dining experience at Frite Alors! on Villeray. I usually love dining there. I usually call eating at Frite Alors! on Villeray "taking myself out on a date." It's a small, intimate, warm, and inviting spot that is steps from my home. I almost always treat myself to a beer--either a Boréale Rousse on tap or a Coup de Grisou in a bottle--and a small Poutine Montréalaise. The fries are crispy, the smoked meat is lightly sauteed on the grill, and the cheese curds are plenty satisfying. It's soul food that sticks to the ribs. The Coup de Grisou beer is spicy, Belgian-inspired. It's the perfect winter treat. The atmosphere is also usually relaxed. I read the cultural calendars that are kicking around on the racks, such as Voir, Beaubien Cinema programmes or the FIFA guide. I feel very cultured when I eat at the Frite Alors! on Villeray.
It's not cheap, really. For a beer and a small poutine, my bill came to $16,10 with tax. Plus tip, and it's a $20 price tag. That's why I like to think of Frite Alors! as a special sort of outing, as though I'm marking an anniversary or the successful completion of a work project. When I go to Frite Alors!, I'm taking myself out on a date.
I took a date there once, and while it's a well-suited spot for romantic-ish dinners, I think I prefer the solo experience. Partly, perhaps, because I am comfortable there dining alone, which is not something that can be said for every eatery. Many restaurants are intended as social meeting spaces for families, friends or couples. Frite Alors! Villeray is a fine place for reading or list-making.
Yesterday, the romance of my solo dining date was cut short, however. A family of four entered the restaurant as I had begun lifting forkfuls of gravied, cheesied, deep-fried potato sticks into my face. At this point in the late afternoon, free seating was limited to tables of two. Glancing around, a few customers who had finished eating realized that it was time for them to move on, as a courtesy to the new customers. Everyone in the restaurant, it seemed, became at once collectively aware of how much space they were taking up. Except this family of four: two middle-aged parents, one young adult son, and his girlfriend. They complained they didn't want the table that had just been vacated for them. They were eyeing the large table near the window where four friends sat, finishing their sodas.
"Is this table okay?" the father asked the son. "No, I'd prefer the light of that table over there." All within earshot turned their heads to observe each of the four friends pay the server her bill. Meanwhile, I'm rushing through my poutine, the relaxed atmosphere broken. This family of four out on a double date had managed to nearly clear the entire restaurant with their sense of entitlement. Couldn't they see that several people had already gone out of their way to accommodate them? The vibe shifted. The sense was that these customers would be impossible to please (possibly the worst kind of customers, next to aggressive types).
Poutine magic--poof! Spicy Belgian beer delight--poof! Both evaporated.
I visited the washroom, paid my bill, and left, leaving the server with the double dating family.
With warming poutine in my belly, best to move on.
 |
| Parc Jarry, March 2014 |
It's not cheap, really. For a beer and a small poutine, my bill came to $16,10 with tax. Plus tip, and it's a $20 price tag. That's why I like to think of Frite Alors! as a special sort of outing, as though I'm marking an anniversary or the successful completion of a work project. When I go to Frite Alors!, I'm taking myself out on a date.
I took a date there once, and while it's a well-suited spot for romantic-ish dinners, I think I prefer the solo experience. Partly, perhaps, because I am comfortable there dining alone, which is not something that can be said for every eatery. Many restaurants are intended as social meeting spaces for families, friends or couples. Frite Alors! Villeray is a fine place for reading or list-making.
Yesterday, the romance of my solo dining date was cut short, however. A family of four entered the restaurant as I had begun lifting forkfuls of gravied, cheesied, deep-fried potato sticks into my face. At this point in the late afternoon, free seating was limited to tables of two. Glancing around, a few customers who had finished eating realized that it was time for them to move on, as a courtesy to the new customers. Everyone in the restaurant, it seemed, became at once collectively aware of how much space they were taking up. Except this family of four: two middle-aged parents, one young adult son, and his girlfriend. They complained they didn't want the table that had just been vacated for them. They were eyeing the large table near the window where four friends sat, finishing their sodas.
"Is this table okay?" the father asked the son. "No, I'd prefer the light of that table over there." All within earshot turned their heads to observe each of the four friends pay the server her bill. Meanwhile, I'm rushing through my poutine, the relaxed atmosphere broken. This family of four out on a double date had managed to nearly clear the entire restaurant with their sense of entitlement. Couldn't they see that several people had already gone out of their way to accommodate them? The vibe shifted. The sense was that these customers would be impossible to please (possibly the worst kind of customers, next to aggressive types).
Poutine magic--poof! Spicy Belgian beer delight--poof! Both evaporated.
I visited the washroom, paid my bill, and left, leaving the server with the double dating family.
With warming poutine in my belly, best to move on.
No comments:
Post a Comment