Yes, It IS About the Food OR Two Foodies Do WDW From Table To Table--TR About This Page:

[Her Dotness]

In a moment, these doors will open just for you...



And you'll hear the words, "Welcome to Victoria & Albert's, [your name]" softly spoken by the Cast Member who greets and escorts you to your table.

But first, a brief recap of what your day was like...

If you're at all emotional about extraordinary food (and we know you must be or you'd not have faithfully followed our TR this far ), you'd have spent most of the day distracting yourself to keep your excitement from spiraling out of control. Not to mention starving somewhat so as to do justice to the 10-course feast you'll have for nearly four hours altogether. By the time you've walked through the lobby of the Grand Floridian and reached the check-in kiosk outside those doors, you're approaching meltdown.

At last, the doors open at precisely 5:00 p.m., and you enter the subdued atmosphere of the most peaceful restaurant at Disney World. (Yes, finally a restaurant quiet enough to suit us both!)

We already knew what lay immediately inside because we'd done the seven-course dinner five years ago in the main dining room, followed nearly four years later by the ten-course one in the more intimate Queen Victoria's Room with only four tables.

But, I don't think either of us anticipated how thrilling it would be to follow our escort through the main dining room and what seemed a labyrinth to the chef's table on the far side of the magnificent kitchen of Victoria & Albert's. I simply can't describe our progress in more detail as I was so keyed up that I could scarcely contain myself.

However, we soon arrived at the chef's table alcove and were seated along the table's length looking into the kitchen since we two were the only diners.



Larger parties would be seated along both sides which made me grateful there were only two of us. We could easily watch what was going on without craning our necks. You're encouraged to move to the wrought-iron railing if you like which enabled me to see a good deal more of the activity as our dinners and numerous others were prepared. Also, you're invited to ask the chefs questions about what they're doing if you wish. A good part of the purpose of the Chef's Table experience is for you to learn as much as you care to about the various stages of food preparation you see.

I was entranced immediately by the fact that there is no shouting back and forth among the chefs as they work. Our host Chef Aimee explained that Head Chef Scott Hunnel demands a purposeful and focused kitchen with no raised voices, conversational tones only. Indeed, that proved so later when one chef began frantically searching for some shrimp he had set aside somewhere and needed to cook immediately. He emphatically requested another chef to help him search but never did either of their voices rise above, for example, one of President Obama's more intense statements during a speech or press conference. In short, a distinct contrast with California Grill's open kitchen where expediting is shouted and confirmed along with pans clanging onto burners, the whole occasionally punctuated by the crash of breaking china.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself since I haven't even mentioned our personal servers, Jack and Sherry, a married couple who've been servers at Victoria and Albert's for going on twenty years, Jack told us. We met him first and then Sherry joined him after we'd begun eating.

Jack began our meal by presenting each of us with our personal menus and then offering us a flute of Moet et Chandon champagne, a toast with it being the traditional overture to dinner at the chef's table.

I accepted with delight and found it by far superior to the champagne I'd enjoyed so much with my Princess Kate tea. Drew declined and was offered instead a flute of Martinelli's sparkling apple cider. We were so enthralled already by the spectacle in the kitchen that we quickly clinked glasses and sat transfixed by our personal cooking show. As Drew said in awe, it was like being plopped into the midst of all the cooking shows on tv rolled into one.

Soon thereafter, Chef Aimee came back to meet us. We were mildly dismayed at not getting to see Chef Scott again because we so enjoyed chatting with him when he briefly stopped by each of the four tables in Queen Victoria's Room the previous year. However, Chef Aimee explained that it was his weekend, which we certainly weren't going to begrudge him.

She then asked if everything on our menus was to our liking. Drew mentioned that he doesn't care for tuna, which comprised the course following the amuse-bouche, or for scallops, the third course. There was a bit of discussion, as he'd been told by the CM who calls a few days before your dinner date that no alterations may be made to the chef's menu other than for food sensitivities or allergies. I'd assured him that was erroneous as various chef's table reviewers emphasized what a delight it was at the chef's table to have your personal likes and dislikes accommodated and not just special dietary needs. Chef Aimee quickly reassured him that he'd been mistakenly told no changes were possible, and she would see that the advance callers were disabused of the conviction that the menu must be slavishly adhered to. When chicken was offered instead of the tuna, Drew said he'd prefer that but seafood other than the scallop would be acceptable which surprised me since he ordinarily will eat only shrimp or lobster and occasionally calamari. Chef Aimee looked momentarily thoughtful but said she felt sure the chefs could quickly create something satisfactory for him.

First, however, came the amuse-bouche which, as some of you will know, begins your every dinner at Victoria and Albert's. Admittedly, I had no idea what an amuse-bouche was prior to our first time at Victoria and Albert's. For those of you who may be as unenlightened as I was, it's an artfully composed tidbit intended to stimulate the appetite, highly original so as to display the chef's talent and creativity. An hors d'oeuvre essentially, although this one was certainly far removed from a cocktail weinie in barbecue sauce.

Ours was a bit disconcerting as neither of us is a big fan of caviar. We'd approved our respective menus, however, having determined to be adventurous despite Fear of Fish Eggs.

Here's how it appeared initially, which made us both wonder if we'd been too hasty in accepting this one.



After a few bites with the traditional mother-of-pearl spoon that does not impart a metallic taste to caviar, our fears vanished.




We found the tiny subtly sauced bits of Maine lobster you see here played delightfully off the Siberian Osetra caviar which was only faintly fishy compared with the obviously much cheaper stuff either of us had had previously. Consequently, the caviar beautifully complemented the slight sweetness of the startlingly fresh lobster. (Holy Russian Fish Eggs, Batman! I googled this particular caviar and learned that it costs from $60-$80 per ounce. ULP!)

(Cont. below)