Yesterday, H, T and I decided to go to Taste of India. It was slammed. They said 20 minutes, we said yah, right.

So we hopped into the car and went to Cedars which was also slammed. By this time H is very hungry. So I said, let's go to Jitterbug. Also slammed. Fortunately, we were on 45th street; Wallingford Pizza, Rain, Rusty Pelican, Moon Temple, Guadelajara, Chutney's, Taco Del Mar, Lotus, Kabul . . . I'm forgetting a bunch, but you get the point; about a dozen restaurants within four blocks of each other.

We ended up at Au Buchon. T and H ordered an earthy mushroom potage; I ordered a pate de campagne to share. Yum. The potage had a fat chunk of goat cheese that T put aside and H stirred in. I would have put it in my mouth. T's dinner was Penne Mediterranean; it was like a zucchini rattatouille with penne. He said it was good, but he set aside another fat hunk of goat cheese. H ordered the coq au vin. It was yummy but saucier than I thought it should be. Also, two chicken quaters seems like a lot.

I should mention that we took a decent table, but I sat at the one seat that could see into the kitchen through the service window, so I could spy. If it's usually bad to sit where you can see and hear the kitchen, at Au Buchon it's pretty interesting. First of all, you can see everybody's beautiful food. I saw a lot of steaks move, as well as escargot, creme brulee, creme puffs, all kids of lovely food. Second, the kitchen is clean and serene. The chef is all business. Occasionally, our jeans-wearing waiter/proprietor asks him about dishes in French.

Anyway, I sat in view of the service window, and I saw that T's food was the first to be set out. It was steaming hot. H's plate was set out next, and finally after a minute, my fettucine alla carbonara arived. Then monsieur les jeans walked the food two steps to our table. We were all surprised when T said that his food was still too hot to eat.

My carbonara was delicious, but it wasn't really carbonara. Sure it had pancetta and a creamy sauce, but I was hoping they would serve it the french way, with an egg on top, parmeggiano at the table, peas, etc. It wasn't like that, instead it was a glorified aflredo with pancetta and some red onions. It was delicious but there was way too much sauce. It was so rich it gave me a creme headache, so I had to order a coffee. Should have ordered tea.

I was a little surprised that the soup and salads were not included with the meal; actually, I wasn't surprised at all, I was surprised that M. les jeans asked "soup or salad" so casually. When he asked what wine, I said "on n'est pas tres vin." The perrier was individual so we stuck with water.

We were way too stuffed for dessert, which is a shame.

The dude next to us was eating steak/foie gras with a side of carbonara. Can you imagine? A main dish with a side of a richer, heavier main dish?

Anyway, we'll go back someday just for dessert. Not anytime soon, though, because I'm broke as a joke.