I lived 21 years 500m away from Malak al Tawouk (Abraj), and I know that our ancestors were inspired by Baalbeck pillars when they defined the “sandwich tawouk” standard size… and when I see the ridiculous 5-euros-wannabe-tawouk-sandwich in Paris, I can’t stop but think of the blue pill (Viagra) … because this tiny little thing really needs some real growth… may be it shrinks with the cold Parisian weather, I don’t know… I’m talking about the tawouk sandwich, eh?
And don’t think that Lebanese restaurants are the only stingy ones in France. On my 1st year in Paris, I had a girlfriend who used to LOVE prestigious and classy things… One of those “gauche caviar”, if you know what I mean… On her birthday I wanted to take her to a classy restaurant at the Champs-Elysées avenue. So I put my heart, soul and savings into it, invited her to one of the most famous restaurants there and ordered the most expensive menu.
The service was excellent. We had some very classy plates on our table, a violinist playing just for us and a very refined waiter (… he was gay to the bones by the way, but that’s just a detail)… Then our “lovely” waiter came with the main dish.
We actually had a sort of a huge tribal with a sort of Maggi cube in the middle… I later figured out it was the 80-euros-one-bite-steak with the nature-friendly sauce… creative, heh?
They didn’t lie on their website at least: they said their cook is a real artist and WOW! he made a cubic painting out of the sauce! They promised us to spend magic moments, and BAM! The steak shrank!… I wonder if the cook will earn more stars on his hat one day, if he ever makes the one-bite-steak disappear from the plate.
Anyway… So when we were done with this classy restaurant, I was still (very) hungry. So we end up in sushi shop… romantic birthday, isn’t it? And oh yeah, I forgot to mention that my ex-girlfriend was Asian, so I guess she spent a very exotic evening…
*bye-bye in Japanese