Sarcasm vs. Serious & the Torture of Writing About Paul Qui

I never said Paul Qui sucks. What the what is going on? This is like having a television dropped on your toe. Eater Austin just hired a new editor, so things have probably been busy. I imagined this while trying to imagine how anyone could think I think Paul Qui sucks. Don’t get me wrong. No one around here is trying to have beef with Eater Austin. I love all Eaters so much it hurts. All I’m saying is I can’t believe she didn’t see me saying I worship Paul Qui anywhere in the article. This is worse than butchering a lamb in my Foundations III class at Le Cordon Bleu. I never ever ever said Paul Qui sucks. What is this about? By the way: Total mental Eater Austin anguish.

Nothing written should have been taken as sarcasm. There was no sarcasm. I just did a sarcasm check, so I’m positive there is no sarcasm. It is all serious. I really feel Paul Qui was sent straight down from chef heaven. I wrote about how everyone else felt during dinner. It was supposed to be taken as me looking in as a shocked observer. Shocked because Austin people didn’t like Qui. How is this not obvious? How?

Austin people will line up for miles now. Waiting in line to smash my food-writing face in will be a necessary goal in life. Please be afraid to go to the comment section beneath Eater. It’s a war zone and I’m Al Queda. In order to help non-comment trolls understand what was written about Qui, I have placed a helpful sentence beneath each paragraph. If anyone has a question, minus comment trolls, feel free to ask the nearest stranger for help.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

The world shook with shock the second I realized not one person sitting at our four-top liked Qui. Before hardcore Austin residents demand my existence become non-existent, please know these people are from– Austin. This means Austin vs. Austin. There’s no Austin vs. Houston or Austin vs. Dallas this time. I’m not going downtown on the fast track any time soon either. No way. I’m safely situated in the no danger zone. No joke: Austin food people scare me sometimes.

THIS MEANS IT WAS SHOCKING THAT THE PEOPLE AT MY TABLE, FROM AUSTIN, DID NOT LIKE QUI.

Things became almost devastating the moment I realized no one was excited about this moment. It’s impossible to comprehend the tragic turn of events having unfolded that fateful night at Qui. Who doesn’t like Qui? Who? The people at my table, that’s who. The last time I felt this excited about going to a restaurant was at The Pass & Provisions in Houston. The next level of excitement would be French Laundry level, which means excitement doesn’t get much higher.

THIS MEANS IT WAS ALMOST DEVASTATING REALIZING THE PEOPLE AT MY TABLE, FROM AUSTIN, DID NOT LIKE QUI.

There were all sorts of random rumors about having a hard time getting a table. Qui doesn’t take reservations, so to secure seating success my husband had to ride with someone else while I drove to Qui alone at exactly 5 o’clock. This was not up for discussion. I would have started crying if my husband did not agree to this plan. Getting on the waiting list was a sure thing if I could just get in early, which I did.

THIS MEANS I WAS DESPERATE TO GET A TABLE, SO I WENT TO QUI EARLY.

Getting somewhere early and getting somewhere idiotically early are two different things. Even though the restaurant was barely full at five, the host took my name and said it would be one hour. No problem. After arriving two hours later, my husband and the rest of our party made our way to the table.

THIS MEANS I WENT EARLY AND DIDN’T MIND THAT IT WAS AN HOUR WAIT.

Just when it seemed like a regular dinner, a mild disagreement began about none other than– Yelp. Yelp is like a thorn in my Yelp-hating side. The other part of our party just so happens to like Yelp. Ever since a few restaurant owners explained the real deal that is Yelp, along with almost fourteen minutes of research, I want nothing to do with them. Yelp sucks. Yelp is unfair and should be sued at least three times each week. Yelp needs to be illegal with violators facing criminal consequences. This is how I feel, so it must be true.

THIS MEANS YELP SUCKS.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, except Yelp– right? For some reason we just couldn’t let it go. The experience was a full blown Yelp debating catastrophe. Paul Qui does not have time for customers sitting in his restaurant having a Yelp debate. This horrific word of utter disgust should be repressed from the minds of all innocent readers. Yelp debating during dinner at Qui reduced my life span by no less than two years. I might as well start smoking.

THIS MEANS IT WAS NO FUN DEBATING ABOUT YELP DURING DINNER AT QUI BECAUSE YELP SUCKS.

It is now time to discuss things the other people at our table said.

1. Overhyped
Impossible. Paul Qui arrived special delivery from chef heaven. Choirs of angels rejoice in song each time his chef coat buttons are buttoned.

THIS IS NOT SARCASM.

2. Overpriced
I mean, sometimes an entrée needs to cost $150. It happens.
(this entrée feeds up to six people)

THIS IS NOT SARCASM.

3. Loud
Excitable moments call for excitable sounds.

THIS IS NOT SARCASM.

4. Small Portions
Art, people. Art.

THIS IS NOT SARCASM.

5. Long Wait
Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know.

THIS IS NOT SARCASM.

Saying Paul Qui sucks is like sucker punching Tyson Cole in Uchi’s kitchen during a fundraiser to help starving children. Severe is saying the least. Sentence me to a lifetime of working on a foie gras farm— it won’t change the warm fuzzy feelings produced when thinking of Paul Qui. We must all bow down to Qui’s greatness. It’s the right thing to do.

THIS MEANS NOT LIKING PAUL QUI IS A BIG DEAL.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.