Jet lag kicked in… We came in here to chill and have a light dinner, because there was just no way I could tackle anything more complex. Besides, I wouldn’t fully appreciate it or enjoy it to the fullest. I say not too heavy, but thinking that we had already devoured the country’s supply of chips in the US, we repeated the pattern and ordered some more. You can see how this becomes a comfort indulgence.
In terms of food in hotels, Kitchen is at Madame Rêve in Paris and offers an all‑day dining experience. I didn’t come for breakfast, just for dinner. I wasn’t in the mood for completely healthy food; I saw shepherd’s pie and just wanted that.
I was disappointed with the French version. Yes, there are supposed to be some small differences, but this version felt like a wind‑up. It had no definite layers, they were not high enough, and the meat was hardly in there. When I did find some, I wondered how it had been prepared — perhaps sloppily? Using off‑cuts? I should have run a mile and not even ordered it. This kind of thing must be made in advance, so where do they find the time to make it properly every day? Especially in a hotel. Use your brain, La Reine Gourmande. Hachis Parmentier, for us in the UK, is shepherd’s pie. I have made countless versions, and this was by far the worst effort by the French — but maybe this is how they do it here. Lazily, if you ask me.
Moving on to another topic — the service. We wanted a gluten‑free substitution for a sandwich, simply replacing the bread with gluten‑free bread, yet the kitchen couldn’t be bothered. Even the waiter, when we asked if it was possible, stood there stunned, saying, “Oh no, I don’t think we can do that.”
“Can we just have some gluten‑free bread then instead?” I continued.
“Yes, of course, we have some,” they confirmed.
Please tell me how that makes common sense? All you have to do is make the sandwich with different bread! The world has gone mad. I knew then and there that we had a kitchen that was stuck in the mud and didn’t go the extra mile. Because of that, my guest had a rubbish dinner, as there were no other alternatives he was in the mood for — and half of the menu was out of bounds in the first place. Overall, it wasn’t that great. I also would have liked my ravioli served hotter, with the broth matching that temperature.
We were tired, we wanted a pick‑me‑up, but it fell flat. It may have been OK this once just to get by and be fed, but I can’t see myself happily going back. Food is always the number one let‑down in any hotel; we really need to do better and make it sublime, because it is the most important part. Step it up, Madame Rêve.
