Setting: a Parisian restaurant where our heroine (the young woman) is having dinner with her chaperone (the wealthy, mysterious and very gay Lou Raferman) and his old and dear friend (an Englishwoman who is one of the founders of the Deadly Dames Book Club)
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“How do you say ‘you’re all very fine waiters’?” The young woman asked Lou.
He turned from his conversation with Mrs. Chrisholder. “How many glasses of wine have you had, my dear?”
“Oh, I dunno. They just keep giving me more.”
“Well, perhaps you should pace yourself. The main course is next and it’s something you want to save your palate for. People make reservations months in advance just to taste Chef Michel’s lapin au jus!”
Lapin, she thought. What the heck was that? Before she had a chance to ask, the main course arrived. The lump of browned meat on her plate slightly resembled a very plump chicken thigh. It was covered with sauce and dressed with grilled celery. “Mr. Raferman, doesn’t ‘lapin’ mean ‘rabbit?’”
“No, it means ‘Hare,’” he replied rather stiffly.
The young woman poked the meat with her fork. It jiggled. Not only did they expect her to eat a bunny, but an underdone bunny. A bunny butchered by some horrible man in a dirty apron, then hung outside a shop to drip blood onto the sidewalk. Once it had had soft fur and a funny little nose. Once it had hopped merrily through fields doing harm to no one. Then it was slaughtered.
“I can’t eat this,” she said to the waiter. “I’m too full. J’ai trop mangé.”
“My dear, it’s the chef’s signature dish! You must eat it.” Lou commanded, “Mangé, mangé!”
“It’s a bunny, Mr. Raferman. A bunny!”
“It is a rabbit and you must eat it!”
“I can’t.” Tears ran down her face and onto the bunny.
The waiter grabbed her plate. “Végétarienne!” he snorted.
Lou’s mouth fell open. He glanced towards the kitchen as though at any moment the chef would emerge with a cleaver. Then he stood up, threw money on the table, and announced they were leaving.
Saying nothing in particular 
This is a nice light snack of a entry. Very much enjoyed. I was watching something on France the other day where the narrator said that the French are a bunch of rude bastards but they never get into fist fights. I thought that was neat.
HaHa, wonderful!!
Great!
Nice dialogue! Vegetarians everywhere are cheering. Seriously, I can see why this excerpt was well-reviewed, it is nicely done.
Thanks Diane!
Great account Jan. Can’t understand why you weren’t lappin’ up that tasty dish though.
Riley’s had a bit too much wine and is remembering those freshly slaughtered rabbits she saw in Italy. In the USA butchers don’t hang the whole animal in their windows (unless you’re in Chinatown). Our meat comes all wrapped in plastic in the grocery store. Thx for commenting!
What a great scene 🙂 I would try rabbit if the opportunity presented itself though since I’ll try almost anything at least once. When I was a kid, my parents gave my two bunnies to my great aunt and uncle because I supposedly wasn’t taking good enough care of them. Only years later did I find out that they didn’t make pets out of my bunnies, but ate them for dinner instead.
Awww Jeri. So sorry. I can remember visiting my cousins on their farm in Montana and watching them hack off the heads of our chicken dinner. Riley is a bit naive. She’s used to meat being wrapped in plastic in the grocery store. Thanks so much for commenting.
The pictures you’ve found to illustrate are great!
Thanks Cinda – I got them from Bing.