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eG Foodblog: bleudauvergne


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Bleu - when you get a chance -

What accompanied the piece de boeuf? The broccoli and haricots I recognized, but there were two other things on the plate I wasn't quite sure about. Except that I'm quite sure I would have eaten them!

It looked like a little broiled tomato and a wedge of something like roesti potatoes. It also looked like it would work just fine for dinner.

I'm glad you blew your budget and ate out once this week, but you can cook at home for us anytime.

Fred Bramhall

A professor is one who talk's in someone else's sleep

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I am going to bed now, I have one more day tomorrow. :smile:

Who have you tapped to embarass themselves after this effort?

Brooks Hamaker, aka "Mayhaw Man"

There's a train everyday, leaving either way...

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It looked like a little broiled tomato and a wedge of something like roesti potatoes.

Definitely broiled tomato with bread crumbs and probably some garlic and other seasonings in the bread crumbs. I'd guess a edge of some sort of shredded potato gratin myself. Okay, I've got this place pinpointed on pagesjaune, but mums the word unless you want to share the address and phone number. :biggrin:

Robert Buxbaum

WorldTable

Recent WorldTable posts include: comments about reporting on Michelin stars in The NY Times, the NJ proposal to ban foie gras, Michael Ruhlman's comments in blogs about the NJ proposal and Bill Buford's New Yorker article on the Food Network.

My mailbox is full. You may contact me via worldtable.com.

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It looked like a little broiled tomato and a wedge of something like roesti potatoes.

Definitely broiled tomato with bread crumbs and probably some garlic and other seasonings in the bread crumbs. I'd guess a edge of some sort of shredded potato gratin myself. Okay, I've got this place pinpointed on pagesjaune, but mums the word unless you want to share the address and phone number. :biggrin:

Hey... the rest of us can use pagesjaunes too, y'know. :raz: But I figure there's no hurry. When Lucy adopts me I'll just get her and Loic to take me there. :wub:

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I am going to bed now, I have one more day tomorrow.  :smile:

Who have you tapped to embarass themselves after this effort?

Aren't there rules for this sport? I bet there's one about disclosing the identity of the next victim. :unsure:

IAC, I can't imagine whoever it is being grateful for all these prognostications of doom. As if the task weren't tough enough already! :angry: Tsk, tsk. Hey, if Lucy'd been pre-heckled like this last week, she might have refused the blog altogether, and then where would we all be, hmmmmm? :shock:

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I am going to bed now, I have one more day tomorrow.   :smile:

Who have you tapped to embarass themselves after this effort?

Aren't there rules for this sport? I bet there's one about disclosing the identity of the next victim. :unsure:

IAC, I can't imagine whoever it is being grateful for all these prognostications of doom. As if the task weren't tough enough already! :angry: Tsk, tsk. Hey, if Lucy'd been pre-heckled like this last week, she might have refused the blog altogether, and then where would we all be, hmmmmm? :shock:

I'm not telling. :cool:

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I am going to bed now, I have one more day tomorrow.   :smile:

Who have you tapped to embarass themselves after this effort?

Aren't there rules for this sport? I bet there's one about disclosing the identity of the next victim. :unsure:

...

I'm not telling. :cool:

:transforms to Dr. Jeckyl:

I have double checked the time of the PM in which StInGeR tagged me last week, and it was at exactly 17h00 my time. We have to line someone up for this? :shock:

:meglomaniacal laughter:

Soba, who is the BM (Blog Meister), has told me that anyone who posts a reponse to my blog is fair game to be TAGGED. So therefore I will review the posts all through this blog, fact check to make sure people aren't exaggerating or making up stories (like number of cookbooks or some mythical ginger orange sauce), word count, brainstorm for a moment, judiciously decide, and then forward the message I received to my choice at 17h00 my time today. We can haggle out the logisitical details of actually passing the torch at that time.

:transforms to Mr. Hyde:

Thank you.

Edited by bleudauvergne (log)
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Lucy, in between drafts of our operating agreement and inputting hundreds of "items" in my food costing software (anyone use iPro?), I have been amply, spiritually refreshed by your work. I said it before in so many words, let me say it now plainly: that was one of the finest web experiences I've ever had. Thank you for it.

As I also said, were it not for the fact we are opening a restaurant imminently, I'd still be terrified to follow in your footsteps. My hats off to the next blogeur. :wink:

Yours,

Paul

-Paul

 

Remplis ton verre vuide; Vuide ton verre plein. Je ne puis suffrir dans ta main...un verre ni vuide ni plein. ~ Rabelais

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Lucy, in between drafts of our operating agreement and inputting hundreds of "items" in my food costing software (anyone use iPro?), I have been amply, spiritually refreshed by your work. I said it before in so many words, let me say it now plainly: that was one of the finest web experiences I've ever had. Thank you for it.

As I also said, were it not for the fact we are opening a restaurant imminently, I'd still be terrified to follow in your footsteps. My hats off to the next blogeur. :wink:

Yours,

Paul

Paul, my reverent thanks for your having checked in.

I know you are incredibly busy with everything you've got going on right now.

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I am brimming with thoughts about Chez Pierre.

Last night, Loïc called to check in, and we tallied up and decided that if we kept expenditures to a minimum until the 1st of May, I could go to Chez Pierre, while I am doing the blog. We’ve been spending rather lavishly, with the skiing two weekends ago, and then our meal at Gourmet de Sèze that cost us more than a hundred euros. We are really at the end for this month, and I will be in the position where I must stretch things out and use the very basics to avoid any more expenditures. Loïc had been reading the blog and enjoying it, and missing me, he says, and he was eating in restaurants in Copenhagen and describing the food to me. So he said he thought we could swing it if we were careful for the next week.

We recently dined at a rather swanky place, a link to a description of which is somewhere in the first day of the blog, and it falls in a different league from Chez Pierre. When he agreed about me going last night, he thoughtfully said, “I hope you won’t be disappointed.” It was a quiet and solemn wish, coming from Loic. It was also a wish that things not change, that we remain enchanted with the things that enchanted us in the beginning, that we continue to see and appreciate, with fresh eyes, the wonder of our experience together on this earth, and for it to remain unspoiled. It struck me deeply and I sat down and took a breath, and mustered up the courage, and said I would see about that, then.

When we first got to Lyon and were struggling very hard with me trying to figure out how I might be useful in this country, Chez Pierre was the only special restaurant out we looked forward to. For a long time, Chez Pierre was the only place we could afford and also experience a meal and wine of better quality than we normally had at home, along with impeccable service. Of course there were pizza joints and tourist traps priced to sell, but nothing, nothing at all like Pierre.

I called him. Bonjour, c’est Madame Vanel. He instantly brightened his voice and asked when we would come, and I wondered if he really knew who I was. It had been some time since we had been there, certainly not since I got that desk job, and since we managed to buy our apartment and moved into the center of the city. It had been a long time.

The afternoon we discovered Chez Pierre, we were looking for a place to rent in a hot Lyon summer. I had blisters on my feet, bad ones that kept us stopping at pharmacies to get bandages and creams. We were worried and harried, with thoughts of lists of papers and documents, I was completely dependent on Loïc, not speaking any French at all. It was an infernally hot summer afternoon and we just - stumbled in. We were lost, and starving. The restaurant is has a rather odd color scheme. It is fuscia, with yellow wallpaper, and with polyester lace curtains. Pierre greeted us warmly, seated us by the window, the light filtering softly, almost in a surreal kind of way, through the curtains, clean and still, harbored from the blistering violent uncaring streets we had been wandering through.

Pierre is a quiet, unassuming man, someone who smiles with his eyes and his mouth at the same time. He is also capable of a poker face. He is often jovial, and often silent and respectful, shifting in accordance to the silent demand of the customer before him. He is always willing to talk to the customers about whatever dish happens to be on his menu, the wine, the weather, the town, food in particular, and of course the customers themselves. Well, certain ones. He wants to know how we are, where we’ve been what is our take on this and that. It didn’t start that way, but that is how it has become.

There was a man there, an old man, every single time we have dined at Chez Pierre, sitting at the same table, alone, quietly dining on a piece of rumsteck and legume of the day, with a single glass of red wine on the table. The image of this man remains with me because all of those times we saw him in that same chair he never spoke, was served with silent reverence, and had a large and completely bald head. He was always swathed in wool clothes, no matter that the season, and slightly slumped in his chair. He would come, eat, and leave, with the help of a heavy cane. Not a word exchanged between the two men. He didn’t even order.

When I arrived at Chez Pierre, the man had not arrived yet. Pierre gestured into the dining room. In the small back dining room where we sometimes sit, a group of men and women in suits enjoying a standing aperitif, celebrating something. Pierre said I should take any table I liked. I knew the man was coming so I seated myself in the main dining room where I could have a nice view and not disturb the man if I looked at him.

I did not order. I took the habit of asking Pierre to bring me whatever looks good today a while back and he would bring out the most wonderful things. I noticed that since the last time we dined there, Pierre’s eyebrows have begun to gray. He gave me a kir, like the ones he was preparing for the party in the back room, to my health. Throughout the meal, I waited and watched, but the man, he did not come. Mr. Pierre came and talked to me in between serving the rest of the customers, and they glanced at me from time to time, curiously, as if they wondered who I was.

Loïc and I have taken the habit of eating at Chez Pierre on our wedding anniversary. It’s not for a mind blowing gastronomic feast, there are no foams (except what might be in that hollandaise sauce I had last night, the gentle sound of the whisk coming from the kitchen just minutes before there was a soft knock on the door and Mr. Pierre went to retrieve the dish.) In my mind, dining at Chez Pierre represents honesty. And I can honestly say I was not disappointed.

------------------------------

Click to go back to photos of my dinner there, Pierre is pouring the kir and also waiting on the couple in the corner.

Edited by bleudauvergne (log)
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In my mind, dining at Chez Pierre represents honesty.

Beautiful. The heart of it.

Paul

p.s.: I once worked for a place called La Poubelle. Owned by Jacqui, une femme vraiment provencale. Crusty, salty - we had an open line, in a rush she'd bellow to a server asking "when's it coming up" that "this is not F$cking MACdonalds! My food is gud, ee takes time!

Not quite as genteel as your Pierre, but her food was wonderful, she served it simply with great goblets of Rhone and Provence wines. You've brought home why I love French cooking (and eating), the daily simplicity of enjoyment, honoring it. Merci encore!

-Paul

 

Remplis ton verre vuide; Vuide ton verre plein. Je ne puis suffrir dans ta main...un verre ni vuide ni plein. ~ Rabelais

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Outstanding. Thank you B! You've succeeded in making me weep at sunrise before a busy day. I'll carry Chez Pierre at the back of my noggin for comfort. Please, somebody start arranging publishing details... many have written how unique this blog has been, describing it as a pinnacle of their internet experience. I concur. A Hardcover copy would be nice.

Paul, who on earth would name a place La Poubelle??? Isn't that "trashcan"?!? :blink:

"I took the habit of asking Pierre to bring me whatever looks good today and he would bring out the most wonderful things," - bleudauvergne

foodblogs: Dining Downeast I - Dining Downeast II

Portland Food Map.com

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the light filtering softly, almost in a surreal kind of way, through the curtains, clean and still, harbored from the blistering violent uncaring streets we had been wandering through.

Some of these word pictures are more vivid even than the great photographs you've been posting. Thanks for taking the time and care to make this week memorable for so many.

Jonathan Day

"La cuisine, c'est quand les choses ont le go�t de ce qu'elles sont."

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This has been an exceptional blog.

Now that I think about it, I really have made it a part of my morning routine! I'll miss this blog when it concludes.

Can I just say -- whoever blogs next, don't feel intimidated. Yes, this has been a most interesting, visual, and mouth-watering blog. Bleu's done an amazing job of letting us into her space, and we're honored that she did.

But part of the beauty of these blogs is that it illustrates so well that there are as many ways to eat as there are to live. If you're willing to let us into your "space" for a week, and that space includes food, you'll find a supportive audience here! :smile:

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But part of the beauty of these blogs is that it illustrates so well that there are as many ways to eat as there are to live. If you're willing to let us into your "space" for a week, and that space includes food, you'll find a supportive audience here!  :smile:

Especially if you can write beautifully, have serious skills with a camera, know how to cook the food native to where you live and if your space is pleasing to the eye and to the mind. :raz:

And you are from France. :wink:

Lucy,

I have enjoyed this blog immensely. Thanks.

Brooks Hamaker, aka "Mayhaw Man"

There's a train everyday, leaving either way...

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Has it been that long already? Time flies when you are having fun!

John Sconzo, M.D. aka "docsconz"

"Remember that a very good sardine is always preferable to a not that good lobster."

- Ferran Adria on eGullet 12/16/2004.

Docsconz - Musings on Food and Life

Slow Food Saratoga Region - Co-Founder

Twitter - @docsconz

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