Please allow me to take whatever part of my foot is in my mouth, out. I've spent some weeks in most of the last twenty years trying to eat my way through France (a good thing). For the most part, I travel on bicycle, planning the routes around (primarily) starred Relais & Chateau hotel/restaurants. I am in the habit of pouring over the menu in the morning before riding out in order to give me the better part of the day deciding what combinations of dishes would work, etc., etc.. In fact, it is hard for me to pass any restaurant without examining the menu. It is probably fair to say that I live to eat, always hoping that the greatest meal of my life will be that evening, regardless of the level of the establishment, and try to take from each what succeeded, not what failed. I suppose my plaint has to do with being jaded and overanalyzing. It seems to me that the urge to fly from one restaurant to another intellectualizing every mouthful chewed can not, finally, be really enjoyable. That's what I meant in asking whether anyone out there was having a good time. And what I meant by a seamless meal was one which left one speechless, unwilling to analyze.