All this takes place with a good hundred guests, on the steps of a starred restaurant, on February 13, 2010 afternoon, when winter has become even fiercer.
Men dressed up to the nines, unruffled in the blizzard, and ladies low-necked down to the hips at risk of contracting pleurisy with a last smile, trample around a sepulchral white buffet.
On the perfectly set up tablecloth, there are only water jugs and bowls of plain rice. No hot rice, but rice at room temperature, i.e. between cold and icy. Contrary to what some might believe, the host did not whisper to the guests "Be crazy! Take one more grain of rice, or even two!"
No, because inside, in the great hall, under the Venice chandeliers, in the cosy heat, thirty roosters are getting drunk on champagne and fighting around a barrel of caviar.
While welcoming his guests, the host had exhibited a basket full of small papers, a kind of lottery; strange idea. Some got an "actor" or "producer" ticket, a promise of blow-out, and other, more unfortunate, a "technician" ticket, for the bowl of rice with a token ring.
Another guy, two thousand years ago, also lived to illustrate two or three politically incorrect precepts. But it didn’t go right for him: he was killed.
After half an hour of polar silence, the host in great danger of being crucified, ends up proclaiming "I’m kidding", and opens wide the double doors of the hall where proudly stand mountains of dishes, cliffs of candy, and even the barrel of caviar.
Whew! This is a parable. Guests convicted to rice believed they were awakening from a nightmare. The petty satisfied, forced themselves to finish the caviar barrel before the wild bunch of the unlucky was unleashed.
To remember this episode, DC Audiovisuel invites you in its showroom to continue the party and share the rest of a barrel of caviar (Osetra) that was brought to us by a sound mixer directly returning from Russia.
* "Chtob ti tak jil": May you live like that...
Men dressed up to the nines, unruffled in the blizzard, and ladies low-necked down to the hips at risk of contracting pleurisy with a last smile, trample around a sepulchral white buffet.
On the perfectly set up tablecloth, there are only water jugs and bowls of plain rice. No hot rice, but rice at room temperature, i.e. between cold and icy. Contrary to what some might believe, the host did not whisper to the guests "Be crazy! Take one more grain of rice, or even two!"
No, because inside, in the great hall, under the Venice chandeliers, in the cosy heat, thirty roosters are getting drunk on champagne and fighting around a barrel of caviar.
While welcoming his guests, the host had exhibited a basket full of small papers, a kind of lottery; strange idea. Some got an "actor" or "producer" ticket, a promise of blow-out, and other, more unfortunate, a "technician" ticket, for the bowl of rice with a token ring.
Another guy, two thousand years ago, also lived to illustrate two or three politically incorrect precepts. But it didn’t go right for him: he was killed.
After half an hour of polar silence, the host in great danger of being crucified, ends up proclaiming "I’m kidding", and opens wide the double doors of the hall where proudly stand mountains of dishes, cliffs of candy, and even the barrel of caviar.
Whew! This is a parable. Guests convicted to rice believed they were awakening from a nightmare. The petty satisfied, forced themselves to finish the caviar barrel before the wild bunch of the unlucky was unleashed.
To remember this episode, DC Audiovisuel invites you in its showroom to continue the party and share the rest of a barrel of caviar (Osetra) that was brought to us by a sound mixer directly returning from Russia.
* "Chtob ti tak jil": May you live like that...
