Settling for Sandrine’s Bistro – Cambridge

It’s not a good thing if I’m in a bad mood before I’ve even sat down. But not all service here is bad. Don’t ask for directions to the parking garages they validate – you get an honest effort with a vague description and a condescending rebuttal when you look confused. However, our server was delightful, and the hostess graciously revived my dying cell phone at her station so I guess they evened out ok.

Overall, the food itself was quite good though a bit overpriced. Not fantastic but just barely enough to override the incompetent directions – clearly the chef gives lucid directions…My Organic Roasted Herbes de Provence Half Chicken was moist but not quite juicy, in a tasty jus with just enough salt to enhance the herbs. The pommes frites were perfect, as is expected of all French restaurants.

The Vegetable Feuillate was impressive – I’ve never seen a French restaurant work with tofu, but it turns out they do “vegetarian meat” just as well. The soy-glazed tofu perched on flaky pastry with a mild but pleasantly-flavored vegetable ragout, and the basil vinaigrette completed the dish with pretty green ribbons of zest.

Sometimes in our lives we are forced to contend with the inevitable: something doesn’t go our way, and we settle. We settle on an alternative option, which isn’t necessarily as negative as it sounds. Some alternatives are better than the original plan – like seeing the obscure musical Next to Normal on Broadway when Phantom sells out. Some are close enough/indistinguishable from the original plan – is your royal blue halter dress that matches your eyes really worse than that pink strapless number that didn’t come in your size?

Then there are the decisions that are far worse than the original idea: meeting a cute guy at a bar, letting your friend have him, and deflecting his vile friend who now won’t stop calling you. Buying the extra small dress when they’re out of small and thinking that no one will notice your back cleavage. Eating that extra helping of fettuccini alfredo on a first date when you’re lactose intolerant right before you go see a 3-hour play at the theatre.

Sandrine’s doesn’t necessarily fall in the latter category of bad ideas, and I’m not sure if it’s quite in the close enough category, but it’s just not Gaslight or Aquitaine, and it was just so irresistibly fun to list so many bad ideas…So all tangents aside, skip Sandrine’s.