Hilarious Lunches

This guest blog was written by Zazou Owner Claudia Koch. For those of you who don’t remember, this is she. (This be she?)

Claudia Koch with ouzo in Greece

She has a little something to say about her unusual lunches on her many trips abroad, sourcing our textiles and taking inspiration from world cultures. Also eating amongst all that world culture, which is quite an experience.

Take it away Claudia!

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This blog is called Scarf Soup. There have been many scarves in it but no soup.

Well, there were some sort of stains on Vickie’s clothes but no real hearty food stories.
In my time on the road and traveling for Zazou I have had many odd meals – I mean really odd. Luckily I love things that are funny and some of these incidents while causing panic or horror in a more, hmmm, normal person, strike me as absolutely hilarious.
We’ll see what you think….
We start off on a business trip in the city of Hangzhou China where we were meeting with our agents and seeing factories that were weaving silk jacquards for us.

Hanghzou Lake, China

Chinese restaurants tend to favor private dining rooms and, as China is very populated and the Chinese love to eat, lots of restaurants have many of these rooms, if not exclusively these rooms.
On the particular night I have in mind, Jean Michel and I had been invited for a banquet by an agent who had worked for Zazou for some time but with whom we had never before met in person. The lobby of the restaurant was a brilliantly lit hive of cages and tanks of live shellfish, sea cucumbers, chickens and other ingredients (excuse me vegetarians, but we are talking about China here).
We were shown to a third floor dining room – a smallish one. The Chinese are big on banquets. It has often been our experience to be seated with a dozen people, most of whom are completely unknown to us (the chairman’s driver? Somebody’s cousin? Who knows?)
There were only five of us that night. The hostess, as is always been the case in my experience with Chinese dining, spent a great deal of time studying the menu and discussing possibilities with the waiter.
We have always let the host order for us. It usually works out just fine.
Now a little background information. My husband, Jean Michel, has an extreme horror of snakes (yes, I know, discuss it with your analyst at your leisure). Our hostess had inquired if we cared to try snake. We said yes. Or maybe just I said yes but anyway the go-ahead was given.

Dinner???!!!!

Several courses were brought in and placed on the “lazy susan” and we drank some beer, I think. Suddenly the door opened and a cook came in baring a jute potato bag that writhed rather startlingly and inquired (I take it, my Mandarin is non existent) if this snake would be suitable.
Our hostess approved rapidly to Jean Michel’s relief and the next time we saw the snake it was just beautifully cut filets.
Cut to France – just outside Paris

Dancers

Our journey next finds us lolling (there is really no other way to put it – we are prone to loll as often as possible, call it creative, or call it what you want….). This time Chris had decided we must visit Saint Cloud. As Chris will tell you, Saint Cloud was once a palace and a favorite place along the Seine gifted to Marie Antoinette by Louis XVI (yes the ones who had their heads cut off).

Zazou lolling

The palace had been burnt during the commune in the 19th Century but, not to be deterred, Chris insisted we go and visit. I will admit I was not in a touring mood that day, in fact, not to put too fine a point on it, I was in a terrible mood, but Jean Michel and Chris dragged me to Saint Cloud where I proceeded to lie on the grass in what was left of Le Notre’s fabulous gardens until summoned by the boys with my favorite call “we found a restaurant”.
Off we scurried and, arriving before anyone else, seated ourselves on a beautiful terrace with the garden all around us. We were quickly served and began eating who knows what that wasn’t bad and drinking a bottle of quite decent wine.
Others arrived and the afternoon seemed off to a quite bucolic start when suddenly we noticed we were the only ones eating and drinking. The other guests were looking nervously about and the service seemed to have come to a quite abrupt halt.
Soon angry voices could be heard from the kitchen and some very nasty swearing followed. The recriminations escalated, making the hungry guests even more nervous. But that was nothing compared to the ensuing exit of the kitchen staff and most of the waiters. We continued our meal and, as I recall it, Jean Michel had to beg one of the remaining staff to let him pay.

usually the bill comes easier....

I was considerably cheered up but many were certainly not.
Not that one is always lucky on the road. One day, when Legian Beach in Bali was a thick jungle with a few little restaurants and losmen (sort of bed and breakfast Indonesian style) I sat with some friends in a little hut and as we were all hungry, and not in the mood for the gado gado yet again, we ordered four “peanut butter toast”.

Indonesian jungle

The waitress, a young girl, very pretty who spoke very little English but had a beautiful smile, said yes.  The traditionally building was with high sloped rough and open walls, was relatively cool in the tropical daytime.  There were no cars just the sound of the birds in the thick vegetation that surrounded us.  Far off a gamalan orchestra played and we could faintly hear the strange chords.  There was an almost unearthly peace and we barely talked. But a very long time passed. We were getting hungrier.
The waitress appeared and we said “four peanut butter toast?” and she smiled that smile again and said yes.

Much more time passed.  The orchestra stopped playing and the birds were quiet as the sun mounted higher in the sky.  we were really hungry now and when she happened to appear, we repeated “four peanut butter toast???” Smile. Yes.
Still nothing happened. A final appearance, a final entreaty and finally! Sixteen “peanut butter toast” was put down on our table. Memorable!
©2011 Claudia Koch