Dinner on my journey to the Orient.

Tonight’s trout wasn’t trouty at all, pardon that lame pun, but it sounded really quite witty when Eva Marie Saint played with these words when suggesting trout for dinner in North by Northwest, a film I particularly like because of the scenes in the restaurant car, I love traveling in restaurant cars, it’s the closest you can get when trying to evoke the glorious times of the Orient Express, the most storied set of carriages in the world, although, sadly, you’re not living in the 1920s, neither are you on your way to any oriental place, it’s not Stamboul and the Ottoman Empire you’re heading to, just your parents’ place in the provinces, anyway, I love the restaurant car’s little table lamps, just next to the window, turned on as soon as the sun starts to set, when the landscapes you’re passing by are being dimmed to a secondary role, the spotlight’s on the fresh white tablecloth, and for a moment, you are expecting your vichyssoise being served and some Russian émigrée making her entry in diamonds and black Chanel, but, alas, there will be nothing to marvel at, just pea soup and a cranky waitress. So, you better skip all that, order green tea and wait for dinner at home, for that ever so crisp truite meunière.