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Eddie Gehman Kohan, one of Los Angeles’ cheeky Haphazard Gourmet Girls, e-mailed me this afternoon to share her recent experience at Michel Richard Citronelle. She was on the war path, clearly. She wasn’t after Richard’s head, but that of the maitre d’, who stopped Kohan on the way out of Citronelle and said that her young companion’s denim wasn’t appropriate for the Georgetown institution.
How, we wondered, had our dinner turned into that scene in Pretty Woman, y’know, the one where Julia Roberts, ultra-fetching whore, gets dissed by the shopkeepers on Rodeo Drive because she’s dressed “wrong?”
Kohan told me that the Haphazard Gourmet Girls “agree with the loss of that star in the Wash Post dining guide.” She went on to say this at the end of her hilarious rant:
Dining, these days, is as much about having a good experience as it is about good food, and Citronelle fulfills only half this equation. We’ll not be returning any time soon; the very special Crow a la Hubris tasting menu that’s being offered is not to our liking. We didn’t get food poisoning at Citronelle, we got mood poisoning. And sometimes, that’s far worse.
OK, let’s hear your thoughts? Is this Haphazard Gourmet Girl being too harsh? Or is she right on the money? (Oh, and please read her whole rant before commenting. It’ll make the discussion so much more interesting.)