CIA Declassified

The "I hate to travel" woman is back-this time "traveling" on business-without packing a suitcase or leaving the county. After 25 years in the Hudson Valley and four years of driving past the CIA every day, I finally had occasion to dine there. I'd longed to go to St. Andrew's Cafe, but of course that wasn't in the cards. The stuffy business dinner was slotted for the Classic French Dining room-the Escoffier (or the Escargot as I prefer to call it).

Like all my travel experiences, this event included "digestive distress" as the "trip" approached. Abandoned by the only person who was supposed to attend that I felt comfortable with, I headed off, friendless. Signage to get to the right place continues to be a problem there. I recall my years of trying to find their bookstore. "Department of Signs" would be a good major to add. After a number of "no place to park here" and "wrong turn there" experiences, I scurried up the steps to the dining room.

I later learned that the Escoffier room is the FRESHMAN room-which explains why nine people received only three menus among us. How's that for making a nervous situation even worse! The students definitely deserved an F in "menu" for the evening. I glanced at the menu, made a snap decision and passed it on. The students all looked to be about 16-one girl was so skinny I couldn't imagine her having ever cooked anything-the fumes alone would have put more meat on her than she had.

The room was European fancy-nothing spectacular but nice. Big gold-framed mirror; museum style large flower arrangement on a round table in the center of the room. Most of the tables are round and their normal limit is six people-they made an exception for us to have 12 and then three people didn't show up. Simple, elegant tableware. They use chargers-those empty place-holder plates that they take away when any real food comes.

Dinner began with Bread-- and Water. Bread featured prominently-an interminable Groundhog Day repetition of it. I eventually took the little boy waiter by the collar and said "NO MORE BREAD YOU FOOL!! LET US EAT CAKE!!

Course 1
Seafood fork on right, mid-size fork on left. Small plate with disk of pale beige on it-small dollop of what looked to be a raw egg yolk. Translation: seafood mousse of some sort, mustard sauce. Advised vegetarian to my right to pass. Ate mine to be "polite". Used mid-size fork but returned it to table just in case. Seafood fork removed first -I felt smug having kept my mid-size fork but then they came and took that away also. (We passed the time and filled the conversation gaps admitting to silverware ineptitude.)

Ordering Interlude
I ordered a green salad and Quail en Croute. Others had soup, foie gras, some other frightening things for appetizers.

Course 2
The salad arrived after a considerable wait, another 12 slices of French bread (not the best French bread I ever ate-with those ridiculous butter curls, of course) and the delivery of the next batch of silverware. I can't remember how many pieces it was but it was pretty straightforward selection. The salad was unremarkable-with two little rounds of melba toast kind of bread with some white "stuff' on top. Greens were lovely but simple. Dressing was not noteworthy -I frankly don't remember if there was any.

Course 3
Long additional waiting...then the oft-televised delivery of the entrees with the silver domes on the top-I believe we had a false start in the unveiling. And then the flourish of all being lifted off simultaneously (i.e. it takes nine waiters to deliver nine entrees).

I had decided that since I was in an odd situation in a strange place I would order something I would never consider eating-hence the quail. It was awful. It was accompanied by a reasonable but thin brown "sauce" and a few tiny tiny tiny potatoes (about the size of your thumb knuckle), a couple of asparagus and a few thinnnnnnn carrots. Painfully thin. The bird's "croute" was underdone or else attached to some skin - I never did figure it out. I expected to not like the meat (they made sure I knew this was a "game meat" when I ordered-hello!!!!) but it was so unremarkable you didn't even notice whether you liked it. It was, as I knew it would be, difficult to extricate from the carcass. I fiddled with it for as long as I could and then arranged the part of the "croute" that I couldn't handle and the bones so that it looked like I really loved it, and stopped to take stock of the silverware situation. I suspect the broad knife-like thing with the scalloped edge had something to do with the sauce. I didn't use it. The knife worked fine; the fork tines for this course were long enough to use to pick the teeth of the patron across the table.

Other diners had Lamb Chops, a small pile of fettuccine surrounded by three kinds of steamed vegetables for the vegetarian, a major beef thing for the guy from Australia who was doing most of the talking. (I was trying to carry off the image of participating in the conversations going on without actually opening my mouth...)

Course 4
Next I believe they forgot to give us a stab at a cheese and fruit course. This has been described to me as the best part of the meal in the Escoffier Room and it was nowhere to be found. I am not sure, but I think they may have handed out the silverware for it and then collected it again. By this point everything was a blur.

Course 5
The dessert cart was brought in and required three trips around the table. The younger of the two "important" women (and also the vegetarian) made much fanfare about choosing a dessert and studying the situation from every angle and brushing aside her "I don't eat eggs" line when it came to desserts. She and the male on the other side of her each got a chocolate thing and shared. I got chocolate, the other "important" woman and two other "important" men got chocolate things. We decided that would be the solution to any future negotiating difficulties, since it seemed to be the thing more of us agreed upon than anything else.

Coffee/after dinner drink orders were taken and the coffee/drinks were delivered first. More waiting, silverware...finally we got the desserts and it was worth at least one percent of the waiting and nervousness.

I had chocolate pots de creme - the stuff with the hard crust on top made with the blow torch? I believe I watched them make this on "Cooking Secrets of the CIA" on PBS once. You must learn to make that-it is exquisite. I wonder if you can swing by the CIA on the way home for a PdC to go?

Eventually it all ended and the "trip" was over. Did I say I endured the whole 3.5-hour ordeal without getting up to go to the john? That's a long time. I postulate that the bread soaks up any effect the water may have on you.

Was I impressed? Not really. I do like the effect of a nice charger though.

Will I go again? I'm not sure. But they could just as well serve half as much bread and give the rest (and maybe some spare vegetables) to the mother who sits by the highway directly across from the entrance nearly every day holding a "NEED FOOD" sign.