Jump to content
  • Welcome to the eG Forums, a service of the eGullet Society for Culinary Arts & Letters. The Society is a 501(c)3 not-for-profit organization dedicated to the advancement of the culinary arts. These advertising-free forums are provided free of charge through donations from Society members. Anyone may read the forums, but to post you must create a free account.

Exceptional/ Memorable meals


Dave Hatfield

Recommended Posts

The recent thread on when too much is too much got me to thinking about exceptional meals.

It was Julot who said that he thought exceptional meals should stay exceptional. I fully agree with him. It fits into my too much of a good thing theory.

So, my question is what was YOUR most exceptional meal or your most memorable meal. The meal has to have taken place in France (otherwise we're in the wrong forum.) but can be anywhere you like; restaurant, private home, picnic, whatever so long as to you it was either exceptional or memorable or both.

I'll get things started with a memorable meal where we had the most exceptional bouillabaisse I have ever encountered.

This took place in the early 90's near Bandol. We were on vacation with 2 other couples. During the week we had a pot of money and used that to either buy meals or groceries (we were renting gites so could cook.), but each week one couple got to choose the restaurant and pay for the meal.

For our turn I was determined to find a truly outstanding bouillabaisse since nobody else in the party had ever had one. One morning walking along the coast towards Cassis I spotted a modest beach cafe/restaurant which had a sign saying "bouillabaisse given 24 hours notice". This led me to believe they were serious about their bouillabaisse so we went in. The owner was reluctant to say yes as there had been tremendous thunderstorms the days previous & the fishermen hadn't been out much. Eventually he said Ok for bouillabaisse for two. No, I said, bouillabaisse for six! Oh la la! Much telephoning ensued by the owner & his son to the local fishermen. Finally the answer, yes they would do it, but they'd have to substitute one fish for another that wasn't available.

The next evening the six of us arrived about half an hour before sunset. We watched the sun go down over the med as we drank our kir's. Heaven. Then came THE bouillabaisse. First, of course, the soup accompanied by toasted bread rounds, garlic cloves to rub onto them, rouille and grated cheese. Then the main fish & shell fish started coming; there was a huge platter from which the owner served up our individual portions. Small portions, but each succeeding one had a different combination of ingredients. The owner was peeling & deveining the shrimp one handed with two spoons; amazing. The flavors, the freshness of everything, the setting, the warm welcome all went to a truly memorable meal. Despite many attempts I have never quite had a bouillabaisse that good since.

I have another memorable meal from the same three week trip which I'll write up on my blog as soon as I get a moment.

Ok now lets see what your exceptional meals have been.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It was the Saturday before Christmas a few years ago and we ate lunch at the Auberge de l'ill.

It was a beautiful crisp winter day with a clear bue sky; the welcome from all the staff was warm and freindly; the restaurant was full of large extended families haveing a pre-Christmas celebration; and food was good, really matching the ambiance of the room; and the sommelier guided us to some wonderful inexpensive wines. A perfect, very memorable meal.

A good meal to me is always the result of the combination of food, company and environment. The food doesn't have to be great, but it does have to match the time and place. Fresh lobstor simply grilled over coconut husks on a tropical beach can be as memorable as a three star meal. However, bad food, is always bad, and usually makes a memorable meal for the wrong reasons.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

My most memorable meal in France was also at Auberge de l'ill. Everything about the experience was charming. The food, the wine, the extremely gracious service. We were even charmed by the swarm of vicious mosquitoes that attacked us as sat down for our welcoming drink by the river. The staff anticipated everything, and this too; they had the doors open and ready up at the house when we finally ran for cover. It has been some time, and I don’t remember exactly what we ate, but I did save the menu that was provided for the taking. It was on a card printed with a watercolor of the Ill river, painted by our host.

We had planned this meal as the finale of a week-long vacation focused on dining, and were neither disappointed or too numbed/sated/bored to appreciate it. On the contrary; it was a perfect way to end the trip.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I've been thinking about the question, but I came to the conclusion that my most memorable meals are related to intimate circumstances -- the food was great but it was mostly great to share, great to be, in those confitions, with the people I was with. One is linked to family stories, another to some seduction event, etc.

That said, the most amazing meals I had in French restaurants, the one that were a shock of the "I had no idea" kind were in non particularly unexpected places: my first fine dining experience ever was at Bernard Loiseau's in Saulieu, then the landmarks in my gastronomic experience were l'Arpège, l'Ambroisie, Jamin.

My second time at Jamin was a lunch when I had their pintade rotie en cocotte. That was unforgettable -- it looked so familiar and so beautiful, that evenly roasted, golden bird, and the whole foie gras on the side, that big black oval Staub cocotte, the carving in the room. Everything was magical, esp. that juice that was intense but only underlining and enhancing the fowl. Do you know how appetising roast meat looks in cartoons and comic books? Well Jamin was the first time the actual experience was actually up to it. Really a new dimension in my reality.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I have to agree that the determining factors of our most memorable French meals have been companions and situation more than startling food: being invited to a private home for a meal among friends; sharing the table d'hote in the country with guests from a handful of different countries; being served local specialties prepared with great care from family recipes, simple but correct dishes. Even the restaurant meals that we recall most often are ones one would consider "sympa" rather than haute.

If I had to choose just one meal, it would be the one we were served on the first night of their season at Hotel/Restaurant Arce in Saint-Etienne-Baigorry in Pay Basque. We were the only guests. The evening began with champagne and hors d'oeuvres in front of a roaring fire. We moved into the dining room for a perfect if simple meal served by the most charming and professional waitperson. I vividly see her now in her classic black dress, starched white apron and cap. All stops were pulled for just the two of us, alone in the cavernous, candlelit formal dining room. Coffee and after-dinner drinks were again in front of the fire. This hotel has been in the same family for generations, and hospitality was evident in every detail. (Bush had invaded Iraq during the previous night, and our hosts were most kind and supportive of our uncertainty and concern.)

eGullet member #80.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hands down - Jamin - our second trip to Paris if I recall correctly. It had opened recently and only had one Michelin star. Sea urchins with quail eggs. Exquisite - delicious - and of historical interest in terms of the development of French cuisine. One mark of a great dish is you can remember it many years later without looking it up - unless you're having a "senior moment".

Note that there aren't too many great meals I remember dish by dish. One is L'Hotel du France in Auch (Andre Daguin). The best chicken soup I have ever had. Followed by a main of the first hot fois I ever ate. Wonderful cheese for "dessert". One reason I think Gordon Ramsay is worth its 3 stars is because I remember every dish I had there (appetizer of Scottish langoutines - main of Bresse pigeon - and dessert which was a chocolate tube filled with many layers of wonderful tasting stuff - including ginger mousse). Of course - I went to Gordon Ramsay RHR in 2004 - and Jamin in the early 1980's. So Gordon Ramsay RHR hasn't passed the test of time yet! Also - I guess it is easier to remember 3 course meals than meals with more courses.

And food is more than a bit like sex - some of the most memorable experiences are your "firsts" - especially when you were young (e.g., first Bresse chicken at La Mere Blanc - first turbot with amazing beurre blanc sauce at a 2 star restaurant in Paris whose name I can't remember - there's that senior moment :wink:). BTW - I love wonderful seafood - rich sauces - perfectly cooked fowl with crispy skin - and "stinky" cheese - not necessarily in that order. My husband OTOH is an offal man. His favorite meal was an offal menu at Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons in the UK in 1987. I will not remember that meal because of the offal. I will always remember it because we went through the Great Hurricane of 1987 in the UK later that night - and the stock market crash when we got home to the US on Monday. Robyn

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I will always remember it because we went through the Great Hurricane of 1987 in the UK later that night - and the stock market crash when we got home to the US on Monday.  Robyn

We were in London for the hurricane and on the plane heading home during the market crash. Yes, a memorable week.

eGullet member #80.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Definitely Georges Blanc, many years ago.

The atmosphere and our hotel room and the gorgeous flowers on the canal--

totally added to the experience.

I remember the most amazing amuse with our cocktails.

I remember that amazing poulet bresse.

I remember an incredible magnum of wine.

I remember the most amazing cheese cart, with REAL bleu de bresse.

I remember the most amazing fromage blanc (fromage frais?) in the morning for breakfast.

With brilliant fresh raspberries.

I remember watching the chefs work while passing by the window in the corridor on the way to the back garden.

Just brilliant.

And then we went back a few years later, and they remembered our name when we walked in.

(I know, it was probably in their computer from the first time; but it still made a heck of an impression on me)

The town had gotten Georges Blanc "Disney-fied" by then, but it was still outrageous.

I also remember my "first times" with fondness....La Tour D'argent, Auberge D'Ill, Jamin, etc.

Georges Blanc was after those experiences; and I felt like I could truly enjoy Georges Blanc more, like having sex after the first couple of times...with true appreciation and abandon.

(like Robyn said).

Philly Francophiles

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Two meals stick out as “the best meal.” In early July 1975, after spending two days in Geneva, I drove down to Pere Bise in Talloires. I was a bachelor at the time. It was the first time I had any money to be able to afford a “three star” meal either in the countryside or in Paris. I had made a reservation to stay for Saturday. At that time, the only rooms were in the old inn, the front part of the auberge, not facing the lake.

I got there in late morning, parked on the gravel in front of the inn and immediately, a young man came out to help me with my bags and show me to my room. No check in, no passport needed… how wonderful. He spoke very little English and my French was basic, but he managed to convey all I needed to know… it was a gorgeous day and service would be outside. I would be expected at one o’clock. That sounded good to me. The rooms were just fine, but of course nothing like the luxurious ones they would become in the late 70s and early 80s.

At one precisely, I made my way down the stairs and around the side of the inn. Instead of what I expected (a stone patio), the tables were set on the grass leading down to what those of you who have been there know, is one of the most beautiful points on one of the most beautiful lakes in France, Lac D’Annecy. I was staggered at the beauty, but the best was yet to come.

The Maitre d’, whose name I have forgotten, could not have been more pleasant. Instead of snobbery, there was warmth. It didn’t matter that I was a table of one, and that although I was well- dressed, I was young… and that my French left a lot to be desired. He made me feel as if I were an old customer. I was seated prominently among the other (older) patrons, mostly French or Swiss (no Americans as far as I could see) and one Italian couple (a young woman and her “uncle”) right in front of me…as I looked out at the unbelievable setting of the lake.

I looked at the Italian couple again and did a double take; no a triple take. A few months before, I had seen the film, The Garden of The Finzi-Continis. The Italian woman in front of me was Micol… the actress Dominique Sanda. An absolutely beautiful woman, just incredibly exquisite. I wanted to say, “what are you doing with him (and it wasn’t Vittorio De Sica), I’m young and by the way, I have a room right here for the night.”

It was a wonderful afternoon. Lunch probably lasted until four-thirty or five. Francoise Bise was in his prime, one of the many disciples of Point who were at their peak at that time. His food was firmly classic, but seasonal, with no menu degustation; everything was a la carte.

For my first meal at Pere Bise, I had the classic one (of many over the next several years; never went back after he died, unfortunately, much too young): bisque de homard, gratin de queues d’ecrevisses, and, of course, for the main course… omble chevalier, right from the lake. I didn’t know anything could taste as good as that omble. Over many years, I have had “the best” fish from “the best” restaurants in the French countryside and in Paris and the Cote D’Azur; nothing came close to that omble. It’s amazing how memory plays so many tricks. For dessert, the classic marjolaine. The wine was a 1971 (?) Puligny from Leflaive. So this is the way people could eat… wow!

I left the next day, but before doing so, went for an early morning run along the lake. When I came back, perhaps around 6:30, there was Francois making croissants (very, very unusual for a chef to be making pastry), the best I’ve ever tasted except for Maurice Bonte’s in New York. He was smiling, happy as could be, very friendly… and made a breakfast that was spectacular. Dominique was nowhere to be seen.

For the next two days, I traveled, eating at simple places around the Annecy area.

Tuesday, I went to Chez La Mere Blanc (as it was called at that time) in Vonnas. Several months before, when mulling over where to go in that area, I couldn’t make up my mind between Mere Blanc and Chapon Fin in Thoissey, owned by Georges’ uncle, Paul Blanc. Both had two stars at the time and, in fact, Chapon Fin was equally well known (and where my wife and I had some wonderful meals a few years later). I chose Mere Blanc.

Vonnas was then a sleepy little town in contrast to what it became when Georges got his third star in the early 80s (oh, that helicopter pad). The few rooms were in the original small building and the old dining room was the only serving area. There were probably six tables at dinner that Tuesday evening. The Maitre d’ sat me in a corner so I could see what was happening. I looked at the menu and was floored. There was no Lac D’Annecy and no Dominique, but what a menu. I simply couldn’t choose because there were too many great dishes. I told the Maitre d’ to choose for me and he asked only one question… did I plan to come back in the future? I said yes. This is what I had: consomme’ with quenelles; grenouilles sautees aux fine herbes; ris de veau Dore’; crepes Vonnassiennes; charlotte aux framboise. To drink, a 1964 Nuit St. Georges from Bouchard. As good as my meals (had a light dinner as well as my memorable lunch) were at Pere Bise, this was even better. Simply incredible in all respects (quality of the ingredients; preparation; plating; service; ambiance).

After the service was over, Georges came out to say hello and then we sat outside and had a cognac (those days, where the chef could do that, are unfortunately long gone). In a mixture of halting English and halting French, he wanted to know where I had been and where I was going (Alain Chapel… absolutely go; Beau Rivage in Condrieu, “no you can do better than that, let me make a reservation for you at Pic”). He wanted to know what the food scene was in New York and I told him, that for me, there was Andre Soltner of Lutece and no one else (something I continued to believe until Andre retired). And so it went. A magical evening and I floated up to my small room in the main house to dream of that dinner… and of what might have been with Dominique and me.

Edited by fortedei (log)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Gosh - we are all showing our age now :wub: . But we still remember restaurants with "rooms" - as opposed to suites and spas and helicopter pads. When we stayed at Troisgros - the rooms were the ugliest things - all purple and black with a spiral staircase to the sleeping area. There are some things I don't miss about the 70's :biggrin: . Robyn

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I have never been to France and it's highly unlikely to ever happen but these stories have brought smiles to my face. They are quite, quite wonderful. Thank you.

Anna Nielsen aka "Anna N"

...I just let people know about something I made for supper that they might enjoy, too. That's all it is. (Nigel Slater)

"Cooking is about doing the best with what you have . . . and succeeding." John Thorne

Our 2012 (Kerry Beal and me) Blog

My 2004 eG Blog

Link to comment
Share on other sites

My most memorable meal was not at any of the famous temples of gastronomy, but at a restaurant on the harbor in Marseille, Chez Maurice Brun in the winter of 1979. I can never forget this meal because the menu is hanging right next to me on my kitchen wall. I was attending a conference, and a great friend of mine had absolutely insisted that we go to Chez Brun; she too had the menu on her wall. I remember ascending the stairs to the second floor, to a rather austere room with nine or ten tables, with a roaring fire in the fireplace. M. Brun had passed away, but the restaurant was staffed by his widow and son. The meal was completely fixed. It started with a glass of clairette de die with a plate of small hors-d'oeuvre - yes, that's what they called them back then, before they became amuse bouche. Olives, a little anchovie tart, some tapende on bread, but most memorable was a square of jellied olive oil. I can still remember the intensity and purity of that taste. Then the fish, grilled; we had the daurades. And a bottle of cassis. Then artichauts beriguolo, followed by the piece de resistance: A poulets de grain roasted over that fire with a huge lardon, set on fire, melted on the bird as it moved on the spit. Without a doubt the most fabulous bird I have ever eaten, bar none. A bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape was the accompaniment. This was followed by salad - another antiquity in the culinary world - cheese and Muscat de Baumes-de-Venise, finishing with classic Provencal deserts - callison, nougat and amandes and fruit.

Mind, that each of the wines I mentioned was a whole bottle, aside from the glass of clairette de die to start. (OK, the muscat was only half). When we entered the room, it was all rather hush-hush, everyone having quiet, private conversations. By the time the bird got to our table, my ex and I were deep in to a conversation about Freud's Interpretation of Dreams (she is a psychologist), by the time of desert whatever was left of decorum in the room was gone - everyone else was having loud, animated discussions all around the place. People started getting up and chatting with folks at other tables. I remember well one group. A rather proper French gent, in a blue double-breasted blazer and those weird glasses that only the French used to wear, accompanied by three women; one older, one middle-aged, one younger - the family resemblance was unmistakable. Very proper group. Well somewhere around the callisons they came over and remarked that they had found our conversation about Freud very interesting, and we had a most enjoyable chat with them.

At some point after midnight, it was over, and we all started leaving, with great conviviality among Madame and fils and all the diners. A taxi back and some extracurricular activity to match what remains my most memorable meal in France. A meal that was very, very old fashioned, not by any means high gastronomy, but with the soul, warmth and Provencal heart that made the dining transcendent, a once or twice in a lifetime experience. I've certainly eaten "better" food, no doubt made better food myself, but never have I enjoyed a meal more. The restaurant still exists, but from what I can see from its web-site it has little to do food wise with the classic meal of Maurice Brun; it too has passed.

Edited by Frege (log)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I spent every summer of my teenage years in a small fishermen village at the end of Bretagne. Later I came again with my family, and also some friends and their children as well. We were like 12 with the kids, renting one of those sad Britton houses with a little garden. On the harbour we bought a Bar de Ligne (seabass) from Scarlet, the fisherwoman. It was like four and half kilos (nine pounds), still moving. We went home and cooked it in the fireplace. I can't even begin to tell you how good and fresh and simple it was. The next day I did a rice salad with the remains, a vinaigrette based on a carrot purée.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

So, my question is what was YOUR most exceptional meal or your most memorable meal. The meal has to have taken place in France (otherwise we're in the wrong forum.) but can be anywhere you like; restaurant, private home, picnic, whatever so long as to you it was either exceptional or memorable or both.

Great question, Dave, and I've been ruminating about it for days. Although you're quite inclusive, I immediately went back to the great restaurants. And I'm cheating with #1, because it's 61 klicks inside French Switzerland.

1. 1984, Fredy Girardet blew us away, so much so that while we had to go from there to Vienna the next day, we booked a "last meal" there when we got back, just before streaking off to the airport.

2. Michel Gerard at Pot au Feu in Asnieres with RW (Johnnie) Apple, Edith, Colette, Atar and Elan in 1968; the lievre royale lives in my memory traces.

3. Like fortedei, we loved Pere Bise - we arrived with no reservations and took a nap and awoke to the strumming of a guitar and singing of "Sur les toits de Paris" etc. from a threesome on a canoe going up and down the lake in front of that incredible "Clare's Knee" grass expanse, however, by the time we went (1984 as well), he was spent, but not so much so that he didn't share the rest of his Burgundy with us for our cheese course.

4. Le Bistro d'a Cote (six months after Jamin + Rostang) - astonishing!

5. l'Hotel de France aka Andre Daguin; like robyn, we loved it, esp the all duck menu and the confiture array at breakfast.

6. Arpege when Passard was reaching for the stars (circa 1990) and Senderens had departed (but those meals weren't bad either); we ate there just before going off to three weeks in culinary penible Eastern/Central Europe post Berlin Wall fall and like Fredy Giradet ate there our first meal back.

7. Lucas Carton's becasse with five liters of reduced Burgundy and the toasted little bird (no, it was not ortolan, I don't think.)

8. le Bistrot d'Hubert, Chez les Anges, Menton, Taillevent + Mere Blanc for their gutsy salade frisee, thick almost raw calf's liver, fish grilled with fennel, wine list and buttery sauces respectively - circa 1970's.

9. La Ferme de Lormay outside Annecy for their all Paris license plated parking lot and great, honest un-Veyrat food.

10. Dare I say it - Ze in the new century.

Whom have I omitted/offended? Bocuse, Robuchon, Ducasse, Gagnaire?, OK, I respect 'em and I liked 'em, but they don't reach the top ten.

Now Frege + Julot have thrown a curve in here with their posts and indeed, I have to admit that grilling fish and potatoes and steaming beans for the 11 members of my family on the Ile d'Yeu did constitute about the best meals in this best of all possible worlds.

Edited to correct Girardet's name.

Edited by John Talbott (log)

John Talbott

blog John Talbott's Paris

Link to comment
Share on other sites

. And I'm cheating with #1, because it's 61 klicks inside French Switzerland.

1. 1984, Fredy Girardet blew us away, so much so that while we had to go from there to Vienna the next day, we booked a "last meal" there when we got back, just before streaking off to the airport.

John, Yes you are cheating, but you're forgiven. As host I guess you can get away with it; I on the other hand wanted to make sure I stayed sort of within the rules.

If not then Girardet would have been at the top of my favorites. We had several notable meals there in the early & then the late 80's. One where I told my then newly wedded bride that we were completely changing our holiday plans at short notice because my friend Pierre had called and said he had Girardet reservations & did we want to come?

Another where I hosted a lunch for 14 as the prize for the most successful sales competition I've ever run. They actually offered seconds on the truffled chicken dish, but only to the gentlemen!

Any memories of Girardet are more than welcome as far as I'm concerned. Its still my standard by which others are measured.

Edited to correct Girardet.

Edited by John Talbott (log)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The name is Girardet not Giradet and certainly a meal I had there in 1984 ranks among the best. However, the very best meal was at the Hotel de la Cote d'Or in Saulieu with Minot as the chef in 1971. I had dined there a week or so before and had an astonishing 1947 Romanee St. Vivant of Latour. There was Romanee-Conti on the wine list and I determined to return and order it. I did. When Mrs. Minot asked me what I wanted fo eat with it I said it had to be a Chateaubriand Bearnaise. The previous year, 1970, I had a marvelous gratin des queues d'ecrevisses ( I'm sure it rivalled the mythical one of Point ). However they only had a gratin d'homard so I chose that to start. But the star, by cosmic standards, was the bottle of 1959 Romanee-Conti. It was a transforming and transcendental experience and the Chateaubriand with its accompaniments was perfect. The cost for the wine including tax and service came to 37 American dollars..

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I hear here and there that that guy still cooks occasionally. Why couldn't we reach him? i am so jealous of you guys. I can imagine was Robuchon was like but I just have no idea was Girardet was like. It can't be like his lousy successor Rochat.

That's what I read as well. And thanks Pirate for
The name is Girardet not Giradet
; I've tried to correct, but we have perhaps other mispellings/orthographic issues which I'll try to address.

John Talbott

blog John Talbott's Paris

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What's wrong with Rochat? Isn't he the last and truly disciple of Girardet?

From this discussion, I got the impression that Girardet is the best among 3 Gault-Millau's chefs of the century

John,

Mind sharing what Passard ('s cooking) is like when he's still aiming for 3rd star in L'Arpege? From the interview, I thought Passard believes that he's better, more mature and his cooking is more refined right now, but you seem to think otherwise

Also, didn't you love Ducasse when he's still chef de cuisine of Le Louis XV (before opening current many restaurants)? Thanks

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It would have to be this meal at A 2 Pas du Potager in Avignon. No stars, although it's worthy of at least a bib. The food is so obviously prepared with love and good judgement, and is always exquisitely presented, and the personal attention paid to each diner by the chef is something I've never experienced anywhere else. I've been three times, and am looking forward to going again in a couple of weeks. It's where I like to take visitors, since the opportunity to be fussed over by a French chef is hard to come by, especially at prices one can actually afford.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The most exceptional/memorable meal I've NEVER HAD

:huh:

was the incredible memory of M.F.K. Fisher talking about eating alone in a place in Burgundy.

Where she walked to the restaurant and was the only customer, and a single waitress bringing course after course out, and the Chef, and the truite au bleu.

What a super story. Does anyone remember the title?

We used to have "reading dinner parties", where after a multi-coursed dinner and lots of wine, each person read out loud- whatever they liked. Some people read stories, some poems, some read prescription instructions, etc.

Twice I read the above story. Just love it.

Philly Francophiles

Link to comment
Share on other sites

John,

Mind sharing what Passard ('s cooking) is like when he's still aiming for 3rd star in L'Arpege?

Well, I'm not sure the cooking changed but he closed the restaurant and refurbished everything and added the requisite Michelin things (flowers and so forth).

John Talbott

blog John Talbott's Paris

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Oh, God. Memorable, yes.

Paul Bocuse, Lyon. The meal was very elaborate (and free! Business junket; a bunch of biotechhies and their lucky spouses from the US being literally wined and dined by the French govt.). As the, er, most mature woman in the party, I was seated next to our host. Bocuse himself came to the table and chatted with us. Everything should have been perfect. Everything was perfect.

Except.

I had the worst migraine of my life, and not only could I not eat, I was truly afraid I might really embarrass myself (and possibly cause an international incident) by throwing up. I didn't, but it was close. I knew the migraine was coming on, and the boat ride to the restaurant didn't help . . . but there was no way I was going to stay at the hotel and miss that experience!

Longest evening of my life. And not in a good way.

I'd give an awful lot for a do-over! :sad: I want to cry every time I think about it.

That said, the rest of the trip was absolutely fantastic, beginning with the first class flights, on to the winery tour and dinner, and the morning I spent roaming the food market. (And in the end, RPR did buy out the company my husband was representing).

I did enjoy all of your stories. Maybe one day I will have another chance. . .

Link to comment
Share on other sites

What's wrong with Rochat? Isn't he the last and truly disciple of Girardet?

Nothing wrong with Rochat. Apparently, for his friends and for renowned critics (see recent F. Simon paper), he is capable of wonders. For simple dudes like me, he is also capable of wonders, but only when the check comes. The three times I went, years apart, it was always dull recipes, pretentious style and rather poor execution. Actually got worse and always more expensive from one time to the other. Plus the chef is really obnoxious when you voice your dissatisfaction. But nothing wrong, really. Barely worth one star is all.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I have refrained from adding anything to this thread so far since I wasn't able to recollect my most memorable meals (most memorable dishes, sure; and I could have counted in my dinners at ElBulli, however they weren't precisely an experience of good, satisfying food, but an experience of the mind and senses, to be appreciated on a level of their own). And I did not mention L'Arnsbourg, where I dined four times since mid-March, because I am so dazzled by that place that I am still trying to gather my mind about it. However,

The lunch menu I had today at Éric Fréchon's Le Bristol restaurant is, honestly, one of the greatest French meals I can remember since I was born. Can't understand why Éric has only two stars. No chef whose food I have sampled has this ability of taking the classical bases of French haute cuisine one octave higher, making them crisper, sharper and more lively. The intensity of taste I experienced in all his dishes was a true surprise. (It was the first time I ever ate at Le Bristol.)

Edited by Ptipois (log)
Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...