mountain whales

a wednesday wander

My favorite restaurant between New York and Chicago is probably the Prairie Whale, in Great Barrington. We sit on the patio and watch small children run amok while their parents sip Negronis and the staff step over the guests’ dogs, splayed out beside the tables, and each time we visit there’s at least one dish that’s good enough to steal (we steal the ideas, not the plates).

I like the Prairie Whale because it reminds me of my favorite sort of eatery in France, exemplified by L'Epicerie de Dienne. These places are located in remote villages, and run, like the Prairie Whale, by serious cooks who’ve decided to escape to the countryside, where a team of 1 or 2 will serve perhaps a few dozen people a day. The food is unadorned and utterly delicious, and the meals take place in the kind of genial, forgiving atmosphere that can only be created by clean air and open skies.

The food and the dining rooms feel exactly the same, but the difference is one of scale.

The Prairie Whale probably serves 250 dinners on a summer Friday, with, I would guess, a staff of 12. The staff to diner ratio works out to be about the same in Great Barrington as in Dienne, but the risk and the management are different dishes altogether. And I can’t remember the last time I ate in an American restaurant with a team of 2 – restaurants just seem to wind up bigger here, or perhaps, they need to be that much bigger to work. I never want to run a place the size of the Prairie Whale again.

When we ate in Dienne, the proprietor, only half joking, offered me the keys. At least once a month, I regret not taking up his offer.

---

Dinner in Dienne, first course. There were a total of 8 items on the menu when we were there (the Prairie Whale probably has 18). A squash soup with Auvergnat blue, one of the finest pieces of foie gras I can remember, and a slab of headcheese, sticky and crisp.