2008 Woodie Awards
Taste of the Town
James McGehee '08
Issue date: 3/13/08 Section: Arts & Entertainment
Pot Au Feu
44 Custom House St.
Providence, R.I. 02903
(401) 273-8953
When I told people I was refraining from meat for Lent-in effect, becoming a full-time vegetarian (not a vegan, kill me now please) --most balked, grew uncomfortable, asked if I could hold out for 40 days, and thought I was certainly suffering from sleep deprivation. My mom worried about my protein intake, but one friend actually gave me the benefit of the doubt, although he said after what was sure to be a near-unbearable Lent I would never ever give vegetarianism a spin again.
Surprise, carnivores! Vegetarianism ain't that hard, even in a pre-transformation Ray that offered limited vegetarian options. Nevertheless, I made an exception to my rule. If I were to review a restaurant for The Cowl, I was allowed to eat meat, since vegetarianism does not reflect the diets of most Providence College students.
My date, being descended from a long line of French kings, wanted to try Providence's finest French cuisine. I acquiesced, wishing to please, although personally wary of French snobbery. The French did, however, give us Lady Liberty, and, it turns out, decent food.
Pot Au Feu, located downtown (about a two-minute walk from Kennedy Plaza), is two restaurants in one. The upstairs salon is the formal and sophisticated side of Pot Au Feu. The basement bistro's dishes are, according to one Web site, "more peasant in origin." (That's some marketing.) As the salon was closed, Pot Au Feu made the choice between the two dining situations easy for us.
The basement, looking straight out of the medieval ages and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, has stone walls and muted lighting. Subjected to an hour-long wait for a table, and horribly famished, we settled for a seat at the bar. It proved as suitable for dinner as a table (unlike the bar at the Abbey), despite a constantly-opening door near our seats that ushered in the mid-February breeze. At the bar, our server, the bartender, was always present and ready to address our deepest dining desires efficiently. He interacted with us, adding colorful remarks to our conversations, but he never seemed intrusive. What a friendly guy he was.
44 Custom House St.
Providence, R.I. 02903
(401) 273-8953
When I told people I was refraining from meat for Lent-in effect, becoming a full-time vegetarian (not a vegan, kill me now please) --most balked, grew uncomfortable, asked if I could hold out for 40 days, and thought I was certainly suffering from sleep deprivation. My mom worried about my protein intake, but one friend actually gave me the benefit of the doubt, although he said after what was sure to be a near-unbearable Lent I would never ever give vegetarianism a spin again.
Surprise, carnivores! Vegetarianism ain't that hard, even in a pre-transformation Ray that offered limited vegetarian options. Nevertheless, I made an exception to my rule. If I were to review a restaurant for The Cowl, I was allowed to eat meat, since vegetarianism does not reflect the diets of most Providence College students.
My date, being descended from a long line of French kings, wanted to try Providence's finest French cuisine. I acquiesced, wishing to please, although personally wary of French snobbery. The French did, however, give us Lady Liberty, and, it turns out, decent food.
Pot Au Feu, located downtown (about a two-minute walk from Kennedy Plaza), is two restaurants in one. The upstairs salon is the formal and sophisticated side of Pot Au Feu. The basement bistro's dishes are, according to one Web site, "more peasant in origin." (That's some marketing.) As the salon was closed, Pot Au Feu made the choice between the two dining situations easy for us.
The basement, looking straight out of the medieval ages and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, has stone walls and muted lighting. Subjected to an hour-long wait for a table, and horribly famished, we settled for a seat at the bar. It proved as suitable for dinner as a table (unlike the bar at the Abbey), despite a constantly-opening door near our seats that ushered in the mid-February breeze. At the bar, our server, the bartender, was always present and ready to address our deepest dining desires efficiently. He interacted with us, adding colorful remarks to our conversations, but he never seemed intrusive. What a friendly guy he was.
Be the first to comment on this story