Bux

It is in the dessert menu... Hmmm, I still haven't seen the original site in French, but I was thinking of somehow incorporating Vacherin Mont d'Or with honey, although it doesn't sound that appealing, nor does it sound like something Orsi might do.

By and large, we find we are best off eating but one big meal a day and when the big meal is a really long gastronomic tasting menu of many courses, the other meal of the day may fade away to no more than a glass of wine and a snack. Snacking is getting a bit easier in France, but it's still a country that regards the three course meal as the minimally proper way to eat. Spain, on the other hand, is a snacker's paradise. Although the form tapas take seems to vary from region to region, there are few inhabited parts of Spain where one is far from a bar where one can get a decent bit to eat at most times of the day. Another advantage of tapas is that each member of the party may eat as much as or as little as desired. Even though our lunch at Casa Paco wasn't extremely large, we found ourselves with different levels of appetite. Nou Manolin was high on my short list of places to look at in Alicante where we arrived without plans for dinner. Our current appetites really dictate no more than one reservation a day and a day to rest our appetites every now and them. Our arrival in downtown Alicante was not the most pleasant moment of our trip. What passed for the loading zone for our hotel didn't have a place for us to park. A nasty motorcycle cop, whose demeanor was probably not improved by having to wear so much leather on a hot afternoon, wouldn't let us double park, pull up on the sidewalk or block part of the crosswalk to unload. We eventually successfully fought with a taxi for space in a taxi zone two blocks from the hotel. The taxi parked across the street anyway and when we returned after checking in, all he did was pull over to our side, but blocking the crosswalk rather than taking the space in the taxi zone. A stroll over to the marina and beach which at this time of day was recently deserted, put us in a slightly better frame of mind, but I was still conscious of the burden any restaurant would have in allowing me to leave Alicante with pleasant memories. To the credit of the bar at Nou Manolin, our bartender and the friendly patrons around us, I look forward to returning again. Perhaps the bar did a better job than a restaurant might have done. Just sitting at a bar stool is a tonic for many of us. The ability to partake of some excellent food is a plus. We were still fatigued by the day's driving, getting lost and the indignity of not being welcomed as desired guest in the city, to think of anything more original to say than "vino blanco, dos copas for favor," when the bartender smiled at us. He suggested a Rueda which had enough flavor to wake up our taste buds and put us in a good mood. Verdejo is rapidly replacing albariño as my favorite white wine grape and although I didn't get a good look at the back label of the bottle, my guess was this was all verdejo and not a blend also permitted to hold title to Rueda D.O. As we weren't intending to eat very much, it seemed unreasonable to consider cost too much of a factor and we started off with a batch of the local gambas rojas a la plancha, which though not inexpensive, are a real bargain compared to what one might get in NYC for that price. If memory serves, they might run about $5 a piece, in prime condition simply prepared in a bar or restaurant, but they are large. We also had some fired fish which were greaseless and as well prepared as we could hope for, but for some reason they didn't send us. A sandwich of jamon put the finishing touches on my appetite and by the time we had a few more glasses of wine, we left Nou Manolin really happy to be in Alicante, but regretting it was to be a one night stand. That proved to be no problem for food sluts like ourselves. El Poblet, in Denia, the next night served food to make you forget the others, at least for a while.

But I am sad that Orsi's site is so bizarre in English. It's unfit for charming a host not to have a a better introduction to his potential guests who speak English. I'm assuming the Mounts of Gold refer to the cheese.

This is a bit off topic, but the issue of food, restaurant and recipe translation is an interesting one. I suppose there are any number of fields that are as specialized, but this is the one I pay attention to and it's within this context that I find so many translations that range from amusing to just plain absurd. Running a recipe thought a web translator will invariably provide a useless set of instructions. There are any number of countries in which I would much rather deal with a native menu than try to decipher what I may get when I order from the "English" menu they seem happy to provide. There's a thread in the French forum about some very perplexing dishes listed on the English language version of the web site for a fine Lyonnaise restaurant. I suspect it was the product of a machine translation.

I was wondering why it was "marine of the wolf" and not "wolf of the sea," but I can't say I'm any less confused now.

This thread brings a lot of thoughts to mind, not the least just because it's about Lyon. Whenever I read someone's words dismissing a visit to Lyon, I am puzzled. I'm eager to return yet again and the prospect of a bistrot/bouchon/machon dinner with Lucy is icing on the cake. Lyon has never been known first for its haute cuisine, although I've had exceptionally fine meals there and when Bocuse was its best, it was thought of as a Lyon restaurant. It's not that there's been a dearth of fine restaurants, but that in spite of fine restaurants, Lyon's own style of eating has been best expressed by the number and quality of it's little restaurants. It always seems a pity to pass though Lyon without having tripe in some form. I realize I may well contribute to the mass of tourism that encourages restaurants to morph into caricatures of Lyonnaise restaurants with "offal prepared to feed the expectations of the tourists." For all that's written about Lyon and for all the restaurant guide books, it's easier to find the best haute cuisine than the best tablier de sapeur. There was a small place by the Halles in which we once had lunch. I think I owe finding it to an old Patricia Wells book, but the last time we were near the Halles, we couldn't find it. I may have lost my sense of where exactly it was, or it may have disappeared. Lisa's question about comparing bouchons led me to think that it should be a little bit like comparing one's children. Hopefully, you come to appreciate them for their differences and try not to rank them in order.

This was because the translators (two of them - one who translated the recipes and the other the rest of the CD-ROM and the book) were instructed to use metric for the BE version and imperial for the US version. These instructions were issued by the translation agency that coordinated the various foreign language versions (French, German, Italian and Japanese). I know this because I was the translator of the book and the rest of the CD-ROM. And I have to say, it was one of the most absorbing pieces of translation I have ever done... Hello and welcome to eGullet. I shouldn't doubt it was an absorbing project. Can I ask how you came about the job. Do you usually translate culinary works and cookbooks? Did you mean to say imperial measures for the US edition? I thought US measures and imperial measure were different, with imperial measures used in the UK.

It is such a mistake for a restaurant to allow anyone to translate menu items unless that person is truly familiar with food terms in both languages. I can guess how a few of those--and I agree with Lisa, those are very poetic menu items in English--came about from a word by word translation. Rereading the list, I suspect I shouldn't even suspect it was "anyone" who composed the English, but a machine. I have not been in Lyon in a few years. I have very different, but very pleasant memories of dining at both Orsi and Leon de Lyon. I've dined at Leon de Lyon three times over the course of more than a decade and each meal has been very different. It was fascinating to see the restaurant change. I dined but once at Orsi and it was after a personal introduction and after showing up with a rather large truffle presented to me by a winemaker in Provence. Chef Orsi graciously incorporated that truffle into a meal for four of us. Needless to say it was a memorable meal, but the raviole of foie gras was the most exceptional good old fashioned French comfort food with, or without, a ton of fresh truffle on top. Unfortunately, even if personal memories didn't cloud my opinion, I've not dined in either of those two places in too long to offer a valid recommendation. I really don't know how the food is today, although I respect both chefs immensely. If I may throw a monkey wrench into things however, I've read great things about Auberge de l'Ile and we ate very well at the hands of Nicolas Le Bec when he was cooking at Les Loges. There were a few offputting aspects to the service, but I'd be interested in seeing what he's doing at his own restaurant now.

The crepes I've had have not been particularly crisp except maybe around the edges. As for the taste, I find the buckwheat or galette de sarrasin to be quite tasty if it's the actual pancake you're speaking about. As for the whole package, it depends on what's inside. The savory crepes are invariably made from a batter that contains buckwheat and generally referred to as galettes. The dessert crepes are made from refined wheat flour and always called crèpes. Of all the ways one may order a galette, especially these days, my favorite remains one with ham and an oeuf mirroir with the warm, but uncooked yolk of the egg poking out from the folded crepe. Hard cider, in Brittany and Normandy is most often totally dry and crisp with no hint of sweetness, although there are some ciders that are fermented to retain sweetness. My guess is that these may generally be lower in alcohol, but I don't really know.

I don't think so. There's no mention of garlic on the box.

Within the borders of Brittany, I don't know that I've ever had a really bad crepe and cider. It's quite possible that the charm of the setting has often made the experience all that much more enjoyable however.

It was a memorable week. How could it not have been when we got to visit one of the Mecca's of western gastronomia and eat an authentic arroz con conejo y caracoles cooked in a paella over an open fire. What could be more rewarding other than roast dodo or true bouillabaisse and I think both of those are extinct. Bragging rights in the anglophone world are ours. Judging by what's served as in Madrid, our authority may now extend into the European continent and well over the Pyrenees. It is of course a bit of intellectual snobbery. I have had some excellent slushy yellow rice with well cooked seafood masquerading as paella, that was nonetheless quite tasty, but I will wear the "I have eaten the real thing patch" on my shoulder. Casa Paco, inland in Pinoso, (a small village north of Murcia and west of Alicante) offers several arrozes with snails, rabbit or vegetable. There's no seafood variety offered, although it's a common variation along the coast. In the Alicante-Valencia region, Paella Valenciana refers to what are apparently the original versions without seafood, although Paco Gandia doesn't use the name "paella" at all on his short menu. At Casa Paco, a paella pan serving two people was about two feet in diameter and the rice was piled maybe three eighths of an inch thick in the high spots when fully cooked. "Fully cooked" was pleasantly al dente. The rabbit was a very small one, chopped up and on the bone. The snails were small and in the shell. The snails added a herbaceous quality to the dish and the rabbit though small was very tasty and nicely browned. I suspect the smoke from the open fires we saw though the kitchen doors added to the flavor of the dish. The rice itself was rich moist, sticky and coated with an glaze undoubtedly as a result of the combination of olive olive and the unctuous quality of the snails. At lunch the next day, a paella de mariscos on the coast, brought us a pan too full of rice that was nonetheless delicious, but too much to eat and of a lesser texture. The seafood was also a bit overcooked, leading us to the premature prejudice that paella de mariscos is for the tourists. Perhaps not, but the other table having paella was having paella a banda, which is just the rice cooked in an intense seafood broth with perhaps bits of squid and seafood. It is cooked so the outer ring of rice is a darker color then the central circle of rice. This may well be the preferred local way of having seafood rice. Perhaps someone with more experience with paella will expound. After looking at the menu in Casa Paco, we were still pretty much helpless about what else, or how much more, we should order and put ourselves in the hands of our amiable host who suggested some broiled snails and a salad. The snails, a local treat, were an obvious choice. Although I enjoyed their texture more in context with the rice and rabbit, I was glad for the opportunity to try them alone. The salad wasn't memorable, but it was an excellent choice considering the starch and protein to follow. For dessert, Mrs. B had a sorbete de cava which turned out to be kind of a lemon wine milkshake. I had a tarta de Santiago—an almond cake traditional to Galicia in the opposite corner of Spain from where we were—that is a favorite of mine. My tarta was okay. I assume Mrs. B's dessert was excellent. After a good portion of rice, this Atkins fan made no effort to share her dessert. Coffee was outstanding. We had short shots that were richly chocolatey as I find in the best Spanish coffee. On the whole, the coffee on this trip was not as rich as I recall from previous trips. I wonder if the coffee is better in the north of Spain. My expectations of Casa Paco were vague. I suppose I imagined a largish informal and rustic hall with openings to an outdoor area where the rice was cooked over open fires in a rural area apart from other buildings. I was pretty far off the mark except that the paellas were cooked over an open fire, but in a kitchen on a shelf at counter height in a large fireplace. The restaurant, which had tables enough to serve maybe 30 people at most, was a small room in a small town, but in a town in which the low buildings were attached to one another. Paco Gandia's reputation preceded him so it's worthwhile reporting Mrs. B's conversation with our charming and friendly host who neither said he was, or wasn't, Paco himself. Upon leaving, Mrs. B said she assumed he was not Paco, and in rely to his question continued that it was because he was so amiable and that she heard that Paco was a grouch. She was told that it was only in response to people who arrived with an attitude, wanting him to change his ways. This is a familiar refrain from chefs and restaurateurs. For the record, an online review depicted the only two people we saw serving as Pace Gandia and his wife. I don't know what that says about us, but I guess it's just a case of like people getting along. We were charmed by Paco and Casa Paco with perhaps one exception. It seems a bit expensive, especially considering it's location and style. Maybe it's just that wines I recognized seemed about 15-20% higher here and after choosing three wines at 30 euros that were not in stock, our host recommended a wine that turned out to cost 40 euros.

I believe that was the summer we traveled in the Perigord stuffing ourselves with foie gras in starred restaurants for less than it would cost to eat mediocre meals in the states. As I recall, our budget was not very flush either at the time. This past year has been payback. I think we've contributed more than principle saved in '85 and the interest earned since then. I will say, and perhaps it's not that PC to say it here in the France forum, we're finding our euros go further in Spain than in France.

I tend to disagree with your decision here and believe your normal path of action is the better one. I generally believe a message to management directly is the best recourse. As you've written off the Hyatt, and I would too at least in this location, I suppose it makes little difference and there's not much satisfaction you could receive. There comes a time when the experience is so distasteful that a repeat, even without charge has no appeal.

I've phoned in cancellations within hours of my scheduled dinner reservation. Most embarrassingly, I recall doing it twice in a row at the same restaurant only four nights apart. I don't remember the exact circumstances but it was a sudden stomach illness. I don't recall if it was one of us, one night and the other four days later, or if one of us had a relapse, but late in the afternoon we were eager for dinner and then it hit. We were in Biarritz at the time and returning through the city four days later. It was just a one star restaurant, but we were very keen on eating there and had managed a meal at a bistro owned by the chefs. As I said, we were very embarrassed, but we couldn't just not show. More pertinent to this discussion, I'd say I'm not very moved by the thread or that I'm not so offended by the policies perhaps because I just can't see myself ever eating at this place. I will admit that the cash up front for the drinks is particularly tacky and it may say more about the abilities of the service staff than anything else or maybe, as Robyn suggested, the typical clientele. Once again, it's not something that troubles me, just an indication I shouldn't choose to eat there as it says much about the clientele that does eat there. I should also note that I've gone on record a number of times in support of the idea that dinners should be sold the way theater tickets are sold. I don't understand why theater patrons are willing to accept full responsibility for paying for their seat whether they see the performance or not. There's no refund for sudden death or illness in the theater and many opera and ballet companies have a policy of asking you to donate your ticket to the house if you can't attend the performance.

With modern refrigeration, there may be less reason to restrict one's oyster eating to September through April, but I'm old fashioned and generally don't eat oysters much in July. It just doesn't seem appropriate and I don't think the oysters taste as good.

At the high end, on the Brittany side in Cancal, there's Olivier Roellinger's restaurant. It's not normally the sort of place I'd think of when I think of kids, but when we were there, I recall a garden that can be seen from the restaurant and there were kids playing there. I assumed they were with diners and released from the strains of sitting at a table for hours. It's justifiable a destination restaurant although it may be too far away. Perhaps it could justify a day trip with sightseeing. I don't know how old the kids are. It's been a while since we've traveled with a young one, but with a new grandson, we may get that chance again. I'm still trying to decide if it's something to look forward to or not.

I would say that using the concierge would probably help quite q bit. I have no idea why your reservation request was turned down. It may well have been that they are already booked, but I've heard rumors that indicate it may be harder for an American to get a table at some restaurants in Paris. Calling directly and making your request in French is reported to help. Saycheese notes the current exchange rate. Comparing meals from two years ago, I note almost a forty percent increase when paying in dollars. Six hundred dollars will buy a five hundred euro meal and the top restaurants in Paris are quite a bit more expensive than at the top restaurants in NYC. That's probably true even if the currencies were at par. The tasting menu at Arpège runs some 300 euros, although you can eat comfortably at around 200 euros, or spend even more, ordering from the carte. Arpège is one of the more expensive restaurants however. Wine prices at expensive restaurants in Paris tend to run high as well and the entry level may be higher than in NYC. The current Guide Michelin will give you a reasonable level of expectation. Tough the indicated prices don't take wine, water, or coffee into account, they do include tax. Theoretically, they include service, but many leave an additional tip. If may be easier to get reservations at lunch, but don't assume that the lower prices some restaurants offer at lunch necessarily constitute a bargain. In a few cases they are, but in many cases the luncheon prix fixe doesn't include a real representation of why the restaurant has three stars. In at least one instance we found the degustation menu at dinner to be twice the price of the luncheon prix fixe, but a better value in terms of quality for the price. Saycheese's practice of asking for alternate dates has the advantage of also sending the message that it's a meal at the restaurant you seek and not just a place to eat on a specific day. As for the time, that's of little consequence as a two or three star restaurant will not turn tables and a specific time is only helpful to the house in planning their service. No one will look askance if you come a bit early or late, assuming you arrive within reasonable dining hours. Americans have been known to arrive well before a restaurant opens and Spaniards arrive when the restaurant would be wanting to clear the tables and go home for the night. All restaurants have their own style and ambience and haute cuisine has become so international that which restaurant most exemplifies Paris may be subjective. I suppose you want one that has a traditional decor though I find good contemporary design to be just as European as a historical setting. You may want a touch of history. You may also want more traditional French food as well, although I note the Taillevent is not on your list. All of your choices seem typically Parisian to me. Violon d'Ingres is perhaps not quite in the same category as the others, particularly in terms of formality and elegant ambience. Violon d'Ingres has three black forks/spoons in Michelin while the others are all four or five and in red.

I've enjoyed myself and eaten well even in the wasteland of the Nord. It's all relative of course. For all that I've championed the Loire, Toulouse is a good choice and the food may be more distinctly different from what you've already experienced in Burgundy and Lyon. Perhaps less distinct than it was ten years ago and perhaps more distinct than it will be ten years from now. France is becoming all too homogenized. Bordeaux is an interesting enough town, but still of limited interest and not as interesting gastronomically as when Amat was in the kitchen at the St. James across the river. Were he still there I would have recommended that as a base of operations. C'est la vie. With the understanding that these are very subjective decisions, I might suggest spending two or three days in Toulouse and three or four days touring the southwest by car. You could easily reach Laguiole for a memorable night at Michel Bras, or perhaps a more budget minded stay at le Vieux Pont in Belcastel near Rodez. The latter is one of our favorite small hotel restaurants in all of France, and others have found it equally as charming and compelling for the food. Needless to say, we enjoy the charm of being in the country cosseted in an rural inn with an outstanding dining room.

Revallo, Barcelona is a far more interesting place than Roses, but it is also not very close to El Bulli. How much notice will they give you? At the very least, I would advise a room in Roses the night you are dining at El Bulli and preferably the night before as well. I've only been to El Bulli by car and don't know how convenient it is to get to Roses from Barcelona by public transportation. I assume you will not have a car at your disposal. There are plenty of hotels in Roses, it is a rather middle class resort town and there are some simpler hotels in town.

Sarran has two stars. I don't personally know his food. I've eaten at Toulousy's Jardins de l'Opera quite some time ago and enjoyed it very much. I thought it was a two star restauant at the time. It may have been or it may not have been, but the overall memory was not quite up to that of the experiences I mentioned in the Loire. Nevertheless, agreeing that Sarran and Toulousy are both excellent cooks with world class restaurants is hardly the same as agreeing that the food options in Toulouse are infinitely better than in the Loire. They may be just as good. Even should I get the chance to dine at Sarran's and find it the best of all four places, I doubt I'd find it infinitely better than another two star restaurant that I've already described as better able to provide pleasure and satisfaction than a three star restaurant. At that level, the increments are rather small. The poetic advantage of eating at Toulousy's in Toulouse should not be overlooked however.

Grains of Paridise from Gernot Katzer's Spice Pages. On an unrelated note, but it's on my mind since I've just been posting about his restaurant in Romorantin, France, Didier Clement uses this spice in his Langoustines à la Graine de Paradis and claims to be the first to reintroduce this unusual spice to French cuisine after a lapse of five centuries.

That's the one part with which I have to disagree. I named two restaurants in the Loire Valley that are destination restaurants. Although each is a two star, both in their way exemplify the best traditions of French country dining. Each is offers quite modern cooking, one is a bit more creative than the other, although neither is cutting edge. In fact dinner at Lion d'Or was the single most satisfying meal of a trip that included Gagnaire in Paris and Côtes St. Jacques in Joigny. Didier Clement is an unheralded great chef. There are few dishes so compelling as his hare with bitter chocolate. It was so satisfying that while eating it, there was not a bit of the sense I was eating something that was in any way creative or trendy. While it's more fun to write and talk about Gagnaire and Adria's food, this is the stuff I enjoy eating immensely and without much need to intellectualize. The bottom may be better in Toulouse although I have had mediocre lunches there as well as in the Loire.

Mother's day is not only one of the few days in the year when mediocre restaurants can be expected to fill the house, but it's also one of those days when waiters are run ragged by diners who ask the kind of questions asked only by those who eat out once a year. I would say you've run up against a defensive policy designed by the restaurant to maximize its profit on that day, or minimize its losses, but that in general, it's not the greatest problem about eating out on Mother's Day. We live in a world where restaurants and diners seem almost encouraged to mistreat each other. In a world (or at least a country) where diners think nothing of making multiple reservations for an evening and not cancelling the duplicates until the last minute, oworse yet just choosing to be a no show whether or not holding duplicate reservations, it's hardly surprising that the restaurants have not learned how to turn the tables (so to speak) when they have the advantage, such as on the one day when everyone wants to eat out. I am so emphatically opposed to eating in a restaurant on Mother's Day and yet find my self with reservations to meet old friends tonight precisely because I didn't realize it was Mother's Day. Fortunately, it's an excellent restaurant and the problems will be fewer. They don't offer a senior discount however. How common is that and can we classify a restaurant in any way by that factor?

When my wife and I travel, we tend to move each day unless we are staying parked in a city. Marcus makes a good point and I tend to think of the one way drive to Albi, not the round trip when I'm thinking of the two cities in connection, although three hours in a car is not unusual for us and I currently have little interest in driving. Colmar is the same distance from Strasbourg as Albi is from Toulouse. Then again the way we travel these days, we could spend several days in smaller cities. We spend as much time window shopping and strolling the back streets as we do in museums and monuments. I am often content to just be where I am. If there's a good market, we're likely to get caught up and stay as long as we do in a musuem. Lyon has an excellent market by the way. Of course one could easily stay one night at a second destination an hour and a half away from the first, returning to the first city to catch a flight. Truthfully, if I were to stay in a city of some interest, I might not rent a car at all. Alternatively, I might see the city in which I arrived by plane, but spend my nights in the countryside at nice inns. The hard part of travel planning is not so much what to do, but what to eliminate.