The finest dish I know is chateaubriand. I’m not sure what it is, really, except that it sounds like something out of the French cuisine, and that it’s meat. 

And that in 1975 Bulgaria if you went to the restaurant of the finest hotel of Varna, you were only allowed to order it for two people. If just one person in the party wanted a nice chateaubriand, too bad, because that was against the rules. It was a dish so fine, so exquisite, that it wouldn’t be wasted on just one poor soul.