Les Chefs De France

Close your eyes.

Well, just close one eye - so you can still read this. I don't want you to miss out on a single word of this post.

With your closed eye, I want you to imagine the most incredibly, delicious, scrumptious meal that you have EVER had.

With your open eye, I want you to read about mine. Because if the meal that I'm about to describe does not blow your skirt up or make you hungry or make you want to go to Epcot or make you want to speak French.

Then I'm sorry to say that we can no longer be friends.

I've got standards, folks.

You see, it all started in the 8th grade. Yes, I'm going to take you WAY back to my youth. You might want to hold on tight to your hat and glasses.

So, I'm 12. And awkward. And weird. And I'm trying to choose classes for my eighth grade year. And every one that I know is taking Spanish. Because it is easy. And it gets you a credit towards your high school language.

But my Mom doesn't believe in easy. So, she insisted I take French. Because it was the language of love and all. And at 12, they were already worried about someone wanting to marry me.

Remember - I wore a head gear. With rubber bands.

The problem is that the "language of love" doesn't work if you meet and fall in love with someone that speaks "low country spanish with a touch of Red Bank". My words were lost on him. Words like... soup du jour, baguette, croissant, and les poissons.

And actually the "Les Poissons" came from me watching Beauty and the Beast - which I must add is the FIRST date Kev ever asked me out on. So, maybe the French classes worked. ??

( Edited to add that I was just informed my facts were incorrect in that last sentence and "Les Poissons was from Little Mermaid and NOT Beauty and The Beast - which thoroughly embarrasses me especially when I claim to be such a major Disney lover. I blame it on my failing mind. However, I will not change the statement because it helps tell my story. I never promised that every thing that I write on these posts is true - even though every thing that I've written so far is. wink. wink. )

I'm starting to confuse myself.

The point I think that I'm trying to make is that after two years of French lessons..... I retained just about nothing. Except for some times I don't shave my pits. But really that is not because I'm trying to be French - but more because I'm lazy.

( On a side note... a random piece of information I must share... is that my French lessons did come in handy ONCE. When my family was on a camping trip in Quebec. And I was able to read a sign that said "libre maize" and knew that we could have all the corn we wanted. Our family motto is: If something is free even if it is foreign - take as much as you can. Or something like that - I get our family mottos confused sometimes.)

So, fast forward many years.....

We are going to Disney World for 10 days. Kev and I are ready to try a nice restaurant every night. I am researching and researching.... and say "no way" to France. All I could think of is snails and heavy sauces. Heavy sauces are fine - just not in humid Orlando heat. Snails on the other hand require a monetary bribe. Like a dollar. And Kev said he wasn't spending any more money than he had to.

We returned home from that trip with full bellies and smiles and ignorance. Ignorance to the amazing meal that we missed.

But there is no point in dwelling in the past.

So, we are finally to present day ( actually last month) and Bethany chose France as her birthday dinner. She had eaten there before and LOVED it. I had watched Julie and Julia and LOVED it. And had become obsessed with Julia Child. And had officially decided that I liked French food.

You can only imagine my excitement. I mean.. it was pretty much all I thought about all day. And between our ginormous breakfast and our 8pm supper reservations. I only had a coffee.

And that, my friends, means A LOT. Because I usually eat like every 2 hours. And if I'm not eating, I'm thinking about it. So, I'm officially starved at this point and ready to take on the menu.



Our waiter was a ball of French cuteness. So polite and friendly. And cute. Have I mentioned that? He was my second choice for a take home souvenir. My first choice was popcorn from the Magic Kingdom.

We ALL chose the three course meal. Except for Bethany who chose a pasta dish and macaroni and cheese made with gruyere. DE-LISH.

The meal started with fresh baguettes. They were placed on the table in a paper bag thingie and we were allowed to rip off as much as we wanted. I love being in a very nice restaurant and still be able to use my cave man style eating techniques. It makes me feel at home.


Then the three courses began. And let me just tell you that I probably only said about three words during the entire meal. And they were "yum, yum, yum". I was fixated on savoring every single bite.

I soaked every single bit of French food goodness in to my body. It caused me to grow a pencil thin mustache. ( I may or may not have already had that - but let's just give credit to the atmosphere and the food and not my German heritage)

The Soupe a L'oignon gratinee. French onion soup topped with Gruyere cheese....


Rich and oniony and cheesy. I could have jumped in the bowl and snorkeled. And I HATE to snorkel. So, that just tells you how amazing it was.

Check out the cheesiness...

( And I wasn't necessarily talking about the soup)

Then we received course #2. Plat de Cote de Boeuf au Cabernet avec pates. Beef short ribs braised in Cabernet with pearl onions and mushrooms.

HEAVEN.ON.A.PLATE

I have never had beef short ribs in my life. The meat was succulent and fell right off the bone. Except for there was no bone. But that is what you are supposed to say when you eat meat that is so tender that it cuts with a fork. It was like a pat of butter. The sauce was PERFECTION. Savory and rich and flavorful.

If I had only met this short rib before I met Kev. My last name would probably be Rib. I was so in love with this dish. And I vowed to make it at home. It will grant me another 10 years with Kev for sure.

I was speechless at this point. And satisfied. And thrilled. And then the dessert came out.

Profiteroles au Chocolat. Puff Choux with Vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Basically it was a chocolate cake. But a chocolate cake like NO OTHER. And for the record... I am not a fan of chocolate cake. I can take it or leave it. But prefer to leave it over so many other delicious flavors. But this cake - took the cake. My taste buds rejoiced. My heart starting fluttering. My eyes rolled back in the back of my head. So far that I missed the first five minutes of the fire works.

And no, the fireworks were not in my head. But in my face. We had the pleasure of sitting by a wall of windows and were able to enjoy the incredible fire works display and laser show while we were eating dessert.

It was like the most fantastical way to end such a fantastical meal.

I'm telling you now. That if you never take my advice on another thing - please take it on this. Go to France in Epcot. Eat at Le Chefs de France. Order this meal. And enjoy yourself.

You will thank me. And your family will thank me. Because you will have never been happier and more content.

I still wake up in the night crying out for beef short ribs and gruyere cheese onion soup. The only thing that keeps me sane is knowing that I will be going back one day.

And the fact that Kev tells me if I don't shut up and go back to sleep he will put me in a crazy home.

Up Next: Our last day ( boo hoo) and a behind the scenes tour.