Our first dinner at Chateauneuf du Pape

We have checked into Hotel la Sommellerie which is located just outside Chateauneuf du Pape.
This place prides itself on upmarket service in combination with top line food.
Ex guests have flooded Trip Advisor with post stay comments, both in the positive and negative.
The bottom line seemed to be that it was the best food available in the region however customers felt the pricing for both food and accommodation was over the top.
Too bad. We booked four nights and like a fool I chose the "Sejour Gourmet" option which basically translates to Half-Board, bed and breakfast with a top line evening meal thrown in, however you have to cough up for the wine and let me tell you they weren't holding back with their pricing. Mind you, we are talking top line plonk, none of your house reds in sight.
We sit down at 1930 in a great looking room. 
Let's get the food out of the way first. It was just fabulous, give the chef a Michelin Star. Everything you could have expected, and more. The only problem was that by the time you had thrown back a couple Kir Royales to get the ball rolling, then dived into a magnificient rabbit terrine followed by duck magret (what else?) then enough cheese to block up anyone's system, then a dessert that packed maybe 2,500 calories, all washed down with a couple of 2001 Chateuneuf du Papes, well you get the picture , it was a killer meal.
However the highlight of the evening had to be our waiter and our fellow guests.
For starters, when we initially arrived at the hotel I was really surprised to see a monster black BMW with Russian plates sitting in the car park.
When we entered the restaurant that was all explained with the presence of a thirty something trainee Russian mafia type hood who was seated in the corner along with his trophy blonde spouse . This guy  immediately got offside with the temperamental waiter by demanding "I vant a good red and it better be cheap. Does you understand me clearly. No rubbish you here? And no fancy price"
Self preservation is a wonderful thing, the waiter wasn't about to disappoint this guy.
Seated directly to our left a a couple of well dressed and aged French diners. They had dragged along their fluffy grey poodle for the evening , an animal which resembled an untrimmed, untrained toilet brush. The waiter is all kisses, even with the dog , then dives into the kitchen and comes back with a small rug and a rather large meat dish on a fine china plate. My immediate thought was how the hell can these French be served so quickly, then I realised the waiter was all about getting the mutt up to speed prior to attending to its owners.
All very interesting stuff.
The couple to our immediate right were young and French. This dinner was obviously a special celebration heightened to the extreme when the guy finally copped his eyes on the wine prices. Julia had a clear view and whispered to me that the poor sod nearly choked on the spot and obviously spent the next five minutes feverishly scanning the red list for something under forty euros (tough  lucky Sonny, in this joint, prepare to be raped and pillaged).
The last guest was the mayor of Chateauneuf du Pape. We had actually sighted the guy earlier in the village when we were having a late afternoon drink in an outdoor wine bar. I had happened to notice the guy because he had parked outside our bar and his vehicle was one of those two stroke cylinders cars that has an engine so small that you need a jeweller's eye glass to find it and therefore the French residents don't need a vehicle license to drive them. As an aside these micro vehicles make one hell of a din when fired up. He didn't seem to mind. Why should he care , he is the Mayor. If he wants to drive a car impersonating a fat man farting, be our guest, who are we to argue.
Anyway all these fellow guests were an interesting lot and things were swinging along quite nicely until exactly 2122hrs , when an English chap entered the restaurant and plonked himself down at a spare table .
Our temperamental waiter must have known this guy quite well as the second he spotted him he rushes over to his table (whilst ignoring the rest of the diners who all immediately had their collective antenna's out) and in a rabid tone says" you are late, we held the table for you until quarter to nine, the kitchen closes at nine. It's now nine twenty two , it's too late for dinner."
And with that the waiter scuttles off into the kitchen.
Then about a minute later (this lis like Faulty Towers  on steroids) the waiter sprints back into the dining area and says "The chef is not happy, not happy , do you hear me, what do you want to drink (answer , water) large or small (answer , small) Wine? ( answer, white) I will get you a large one and because you are late you will just have to take what you get."
And with that the waiter screams off back to the kitchen.
We diners are all staring at each other with half smiles on our faces wondering what's going to happen next.
Well, we didn't have to wait long.
Suddenly from behind the kitchen door the chef and the waiter start screaming at each other. This chef is now in Gordon Ramsay mode. He has completely lost the plot and is giving the waiter the verbal thrashing of his life.
The waiter in response is fighting back as only a French waiter can.
It was priceless.
After about a minute of screaming suddenly a deathly silence envelopes the kitchen and dining area.
Eight pairs of eyes are intensely trained on the kitchen door waiting ,waiting. Even the four legged toilet brush was cocking an ear.
Out bursts the waiter with a huge glass of red in hand which he promptly slams down on the Englishman's table.
The English guy flicked the red-faced waiter a none to subtle 'merci'.
And then the weirdest thing happens.
The whole dinner scene returns to normal as if nothing had happened.
I love this restaurant and I love these highly excitable Frogs.
God, 1930hrs tonight can't come soon enough for us.
I just pray we can witness a follow up bout.