Listen. I like farm to table as much as the next guy. I do. I like the concept, I like the crispness of the ingredients, I like feeling like I am buying local and all that. But if you are going to charge me a hefty sum, I also would like to be full while enjoying the freshness.

The restaurant called to confirm our reservation. Friendly lass on other end of receiver wanted to know if anyone in my party had any dietary restrictions or allergies. I told her one of us (that would be me) doesn’t eat red meat or duck (or pork which was her follow-up question. Is it really unclear that pork is in fact red meat? My host family in Paris tried to argue this with me in 1992. I thought they were just being french and/or obtuse). There was no alarm in her voice as I listed my restrictions.

Arrived at restaurant. Was asked again about restrictions/allergies. Repeated schtick.  Again, no flash of concern appeared in waitresses’s eyes. Opened menu. We had two choices. We could pay a large amount of money for a 6 course meal where three if not four of the dishes were red meat or we could pay a slightly smaller large sum of money for a 4 course meal where two of the three “large”  plates were meat. The 3rd entree option was “parsnip steak.” In my book, parsnip is a garnish. Or to be generous, a side. But the waitress sold me on it, assuring me of its savory, filling and unique qualities, practically winking at me as a private signal that I was ordering the best entree on the list.

We were then brought an amuse-bouche. One plate had two baby carrots (approximately 2 inches long) with the leaves still attached (dwarfing the carrots themselves with their 8 -10 inches of greenery). The other plate had two similarly proportioned radishes. We were encouraged to eat the leaves of both vegetables. I watched as table after table picked up a microscopic carrot, took a nibble (as an actual bite would have finished the root in one shot) and looked approvingly into table-mates’ eyes saying things like “mmm! delicious” and nodding knowingly at one another. Let me refresh: This was a baby carrot. It was good. It was not life changing. The leaves were fantastic if you like things like taste like dirt.

I ordered some sort of mushroom/cauliflower burritos as my first course. I wish someone had let me know that this dish would be cold and that “burrito” did not involve any sort of carbohydrate. Second course was “farm fresh egg” over asparagus. That was delicious and flavorful. Main was….well, it was a parsnip. It rivaled the carrot in smallness and had what looked like the sauce meant for steak au poivre on the side. It was not good, people.

The restaurant tried to make up for it, they really did. Like a hot guy who is used to being sweated and not doing the sweating, they seemed a little surprised at the rejection. But they pulled themselves together and really did try to make me happy, which apparently included presenting me with three deserts which were moderately tasty.

If you’re wondering about the spouse’s meal/opinion about the food, he had no issue (though he did find the carrot situation amusing).