FrenchKate

Realtime: May 9. Imaginary trip: lunchtime on our first day in Saint Malo

With all that fresh sea air and walking, we had worked up quite an appetite by the time we reached the cheerful red entrance to the Creperie des Lutins, tucked down the Grande Rue. But that was a good thing, because we both chose galettes (a crepe made with buckwheat flour) and cider--the best lunch imaginable in a seaport. Absolutely yummy. The salad, of course, had too much salad dressing, à la Français. We had to sit inside--the tables outside were full when we arrived--but that gave us a chance to appreciate its whimsical decor: witches, fairies, trolls.

After this very pleasant lunch we returned to our hotel to check in. Pleasant service and a very pleasant room with a sea view...actually, quite a fantastic sea view. Our room looked straight out on Fort National (which we were planning to visit tomorrow.)

After a short rest, we went back to explore the city some more.

 

Oct 27: On to Lyon, the last leg of this trip

The day after our extraordinary gourmet meal at Maison Pic, we are bound for Lyon where we will spend four nights in the heart of Vieux Lyon, the part of town built up by wealthy silk merchants during the 16th century.

We have heard good things about Lyon. My Michelin Guide gives it three stars (the max) and describes it as: 

"Twenty centuries of history and a superb geographical situation at the confluence of the Saône and the Rhône give Lyon an appearance quite unlike any other city and justify its inclusion on UNESCO' World Heritage list. Yet, too often it is bypassed by tourists in a hurry, when it is perfectly equipped to serve as a stopover for a few days, or a prime destination in itself..."

In early October, the New York Times published an article comparing Lyon and Marseille--I've used some photos from that article here--and the writer of that article, Sebastian Modak, waxed enthusiastic about Lyon, observing that "Lyon looks like the history picture books I’d pore over as a child. The city’s greatest appeal is its beauty, as if its founders knew that they struck gold with its location at the confluence of two slow-moving rivers and just a day-trip away from the Alps." This sounds perfect to me.

And though we will be sated by our three-star gourmet meal in Valence, we can look forward to more good food in Lyon. According to Modak, "Lyon’s gastronomy is world-famous ...home to more than 4,000 restaurants, most of which eschew trends in favor of hearty, traditional fare the way grand-Maman used to do it."  We will certainly eat in at least one of the twenty officially certified "bouchon"--a Lyonnais institution, small restaurants descended from small inns visited by 17th century silk workers. Bouchons serve hearty traditional foods such as sausages, duck pates, and salade Lyonnaise; the emphasis is on a convivial atmosphere and a personal relationship with the owner, not haute cuisine. Many cater now to the tourist trade, but the ones that maintain their authenticity are recognized as Les Authentiques Bouchons Lyonnaiss. 

Stendhal remarked that  "I know of only one thing that you can do well in Lyon, and that’s eat.” And so we shall. 

 

October 26: ...a memorable evening in Valence

We had a wonderful dinner in Versailles on a cold January night several years ago. I mentioned to our server that this meal was one of the best I had ever eaten in France, and she responded that the best dinner she had ever had was done by chef Sophie Pic in a restaurant near Lyon; she wrote "Sophie Pic" on a slip of paper and I have kept it in my wallet all this time in the hope that one day we would dine in this fine restaurant.

This turns out to be the day, and Maison Pic turns out to be not just a 3-star restaurant (with a dress code), but a 5-star hôtel and restaurant established in 1889 and run by four generations of the Pic family:

Eugene and Sophie Pic--established the first restaurant, l’Auberge du pin, in 1889; their son André Pic (1893-1984) took over in 1929, and earned three Michelin stars in 1934. He was described as one of the three creators of modern cuisine before the war, but after the war, his health failing, he lost two of his stars,  a bitter disappointment. His son, Jacques Pic (1932-1992), took over in 1950, and regained the restaurants three star rating in 1973. But Jacques died unexpectedly in 1992, and the restaurant lost its third star shortly after.

Anne-Sophie Pic, Jacques daughter, took over the restaurant in 1997, and regaining the 3rd star in 2007. She is a much decorated chef: she was chosen Chef of the Year by the 8,000 chefs in the Michelin Guide--the first woman so honored--and she was awarded the prestigious Veuve Clicquot Prize as the best woman chef in the world. This very coveted and very selective award is given to the fifty best restaurants in the world.

She has defines her cooking in three words " respect, flavor and simplicity. A simplicity - all feminine - which asserts itself in the frankness of the tastes, the deep desire to please and transmit the emotions that affect me." and observes that "Cooking for those we love is the most beautiful proof of love. "

So after two nights in Vienne, we are driving 50 minutes further south to la Maison Pic in Valence, France. There we will have what we anticipate will be a fantastic meal and a most memorable night. 

Jan 5: Last day at Versailles--Le Table du 11

We wanted a good French dinner--we've been crazy with meals since we arrived, skipping lunches, skipping dinners, averaging just two meals per day. 

So I checked TripAdvisor, and the #1 recommendation in Versailles was a "cozy" restaurant named Le Table du 11, and it was within easy walking distance of us.

That's sounds good, I thought and asked the front desk to see if we could book reservations. And they were surprised that,yes, they were able to get reservations. Our first hint that we were in for something special was the desk's  comment that we were very lucky--usually you need to wait three months for a reservation. 

But we were still totally unprepared for the meal (we just thank our lucky stars that we both dressed up) and though it was a bit like throwing pearls to swine, the meal was astonishing to us.There are not enough superlatives in the English language.

We were not surprised to learn that the young chef, Jean-Baptiste Lavergne-Morazzani--just 24 years old--had already earned his first Michelin star. That's an incredible distinction, and, frankly, no surprise. The food was something to experience. Stunningly beautiful to look at, technically perfect, the seasonings were fresh, the combinations creative, every mouthful had a variety of textures and melt-in your mouth delicious yumminess. We had a meal to remember--a seven course dinner with three wines, white, red and a pear cider. The serving staff were charming, to boot.

I've taken photos from the restaurant's website, and I encourage you to click on the link to appreciate the range and creativity of this chef. Here's what our meal consisted of:

An amusé-bouche--think of it as an hors d'oeuvres. The white ball with caviar on top was a fish-infused cheese filling with a fine crust topped with caviar. The little packet was described as a mini-pizza--cream cheese filling, basil paste on top with tarragon leaf. Yum!

Then a second amusé-bouche in a bowl--carmelized corn in the bottom, then a corn pudding, popcorn and, on top, an oyster-leaf. (no picture of this one.) 

First course: the vegetable course--carrots, tiny red, purple and orange carrots, with carrot pickles, carrot pureed, and cheese wafers--and a little drop, goutté of peanut butter for contrast.

The two fish courses:

Scallops in onion emulsion with a coquette of endive.

Then, eel with shredded celery and an amazing perfect little  potato cake--perhaps 1.5" in diameter--with wllted spinach inside and an egg yolk on top. (no picture, alas)

Then the meat course: chicken thigh meat, chicken supreme, with herbs and sticks of roasted potatoes. I had truffles on mine for something over the top!

Then a cheese course--a creamy camembert with a steamed Vietnamese bun and shredded celery with a sweet Asian dressing.

Then the first desert course: some kind of buttery wafer, surrounded by a garnish of flowers, Corsican mandarin oranges and lychee nuts and a slip of sorbet crowned by a translucent disk of hibiscus sugar. You can see the disk in the last photo, but the effect is hard to see. It reminded me of those little Asian paper umbrella's that would be stuck in your drink at a raffish angle. It was charming.

Finally, a creme dessert--a crunchy base, with chocolate bits, cream on top. Sinfully good. 

Oh, and chocolate truffles to finish. A incredible meal, a meal to remember.

Nov 8: charming scenes in Toulouse

C Cafe des Artists near the church of St-Pierre-des-Cuisines on a baking hot August afternoon.

Still on the Place Saint-Pierre

This bistrôt, La Couleur de la Culotte, is one of those that surround the Place Saint-Pierre. It is popular with the student crowd (one of the campuses of the University of Toulouse is 100 meters away.) My husband and I stopped there for lunch last summer just minutes before the kitchen closed at 2:00 PM. We thought we were ordering sliced beef, but we got hamburgers.The staff were good-humored, the food delicious.

A fun interior, too, but note the arcades on the exterior. More on those soon.

L'Astragale

Tom and I have just staggered home from dinner at a little restaurant on rue Peyrolières, just off the Daurade, Restaurant L'Astragale. We are about as sated and contented as it is possible to be. I keep thinking, "just one thin mint wafer."

The economy of France, I am convinced, is based on food--food production, distribution, and above all, restaurants. Throughout Toulouse there are little restaurants--places with 12-16 tables--that may survive because of heavy government subsidies. These restaurants don't make the guidebooks but often serve food equal in quality to better-known restaurants. They seem to be family run affairs, with someone doing the serving and someone else doing the cooking, and possibly someone else to help out as necessary.

Restaurants seem to be concentrated in specific areas--so Place St George, Place Wilson, the Capitole have lots of restaurants-but even residential streets will have a restaurant or tea shop tucked away. Though rue Peyrolières is an out of the way street that cuts from rue Gambetta all the way to rue de Metz. We counted at least 16 restaurants in a distance about the length of one St. Paul city block, a mix of the regional cuisine (Gascony), French and foreigh: Thai, Middle Eastern, Chinese, Indian. So rue Reyrolières is one of the restaurant districts.

In any case, L'Astragale is tiny, with no more than 14 tables. Tom counted 13 but I couldn't believe the owners would have unlucky 13 tables. The decor was not fancy: Provençal ochre walls and ornamentation. The windows had pleasing French lce curtains.

The food was terrific. For starts, I had an herb salad with shrimp and Tom ordered a fricasse--he didn't know what it was--that turned out to be a divine seafood soup. Then for the main course, we had a seafood course which we didn't order but just arrived: thin strips of salmon in sauce. They we both had the house cassoulet, which was excellent though Tom thought the sausages were a bit mushy. For dessert I had a chocolate tart in a cream sauce and Tom had prunes with glace and armagnac. Total price, 74EU--about $95.

We were the first ones there at 8:00, but the time we left at 10:00, it was hopping.

The pictures, by the way, are from L'Astragale's website.

The narrowest rue in Toulouse

A restaurant, Le May, sits at the intersection of rue Dumay, rue Tripiére and rue Bédeliéres. It's a relatively inexpensive place and always busy. In the summer, you can sit outside and be relatively sheltered from cars. It attracts a student crowd because you can have a three-course meal with an apertif AND wine for $20 per person. We ate there about two weeks ago when Tom got home late from work and neither of us felt like cooking. The food was not brilliant, but it was fine and there was lots of it, for $20. We both started with salads, then Tom had fish, I had confit of duck. I had a ice cream for dessert, with chantilly and chocolate. And yes, the dessert was very good.

I mention it now because I want you to notice the space on its right side. That is rue Bédeliéres, a rue that appears on all the maps, and is, perhaps, 7 feet wide, the narrowest rue in old Toulouse. Last night, on a whim, Tom and I walked down it to see if anything was there. It was a bit creepy, honestly, and no, nothing was there. A few doors opened on to rue Bédeliéres, but these were obviously not front entrances. And there was graffitti, garbage, the smell of urine and dog feces. It was gross. BUT at the other end, where it opens onto rue St Rome side, we found a rather fancy arch and a old plaque: According to what Tom could make out on the plaque, Hippolyte Prévost, who developed a form of shorthand, known as Prévost-Delaunay, was born on rue Bédeliéres in 1808. As I took this picture, a group passed by and commented on the "tourists" but I think they were also tourists. They paused briefly as if to figure out what was important enough that we were stopping to take a picture.