The Zero-Six Fete de la Gastronomie:

[robert brown]

Because of its last-minute nature, we couldn't make it a rump e-Gullet event. Yet in the spirit of e-Gullet bringing like-minded people together around the restaurant table, I, my Misses, Cabrales, and Steve Plotnicki gathered together on April 13 in the Alpes-Maritimes (06) to enjoy, analyze, review, and criticize in the same day two famous establishments of the Cote d'Azur: Restaurant Bacon (or Bacon The Restaurant) in Cap d'Antibes and Restaurant Jacques Maximin in Vence. Having just returned today, as has Steve, and with Cabrales keeping up a busy schedule, I hope we will each have the time and the strength to chime in on our two meals, given the prominence of the restaurants. While we all were in agreement as to what we experienced in terms of quality, each of us brings a little something different to the table. Anyone else who has something to add, please chime in as well.

[cabrales]

The weekend was special not just because our group visited two recognized restaurants, but because it was meaningful to have met Robert and his wife in person. Below are the items we chose:

BACON

(Items Robert and I each chose are indicated first)

Salade de Poisson Cru aux Herbes (Salad of raw fish with herbs) or Foie Gras Frais de Canard "Maison" (House fresh duck foie gras)

Cigales de La Mer (Crustacean most closely resembling langouste and literally translated as crickets of the sea)

Bouillabaisse "Degustation" (Tasting portion of bouillabaisse) or Medaillon de Langouste a la Nage (Langouste medallion with a nage)

Nougat Glace au Coulis de Framboises (Iced Nougat with a Coulis of Rasberries), or

Millefeuille Chaud (Hot Millefeuille)

MAXIMIN

(All diners received each dish, except for the desserts)

Brouillade aux asperges sauvages (Scrambled eggs with wild asparagus)

Salade de Saint Jacques fraiches a la catalane (Fresh scallops salad, Catalan style)

Canette de Lauragain rotie a l'ail doux en poivrade 2 persons (Roasted duckling from Lauragain with garlic and pepper)

Tres fine tarte aux pommes vertes, sirop cidre-vanille-citron, sorbet (Fine green apple tart, with a cider-vanilla-lemon syrup, sorbet),

Petite nage de fraises (Nage of strawberries), or

Sable pur beurre aux fraises et ravioles rissolees de framboises fraiches, sorbet (Butter "sable" with strawberries and browned raviolis containing fresh rasberries, sorbet)  

[robert brown]

Cabrales, well-documented as are all of your meals in France. The two restaurants also deserve posts describing how they did their jobs, something that will undoubtedly appear later today. I forgot to mention that Steve, my wife, and I dined the night before at a restaurant we all adore: Loulou (La Reserve) in Cagnes-sur-Mer. Steve was greeted and treated like returning royalty as he is, after all, a Prince. More about that meal later, no doubt.

[cabrales]

Salade de Poisson Cru aux Herbes (Salad of raw fish with herbs) or Foie Gras Frais de Canard "Maison" (House fresh duck foie gras)

Cigales de La Mer (Crustacean most closely resembling langouste and literally translated as crickets of the sea)

Bouillabaisse "Degustation" (Tasting portion of bouillabaisse) or Medaillon de Langouste a la Nage (Langouste medallion with a nage)

Nougat Glace au Coulis de Framboises (Iced Nougat with a Coulis of Rasberries), or

Millefeuille Chaud (Hot Millefeuille)

Below is how I experienced Bacon:

It was raining a tad, when I got off the train.  I had gotten up around 5:30-6:00 am that Saturday, after restauranting in Paris on Friday night, to catch the 7:20 TGV to Marseilles. I had been able to get a good amount of sleep on that train and the train to which I switched. Alas, soon, around 1:10 pm, I realized I had gotten off the train too early -- in Cannes, and not Antibes! I stood in the rain, waiting for a cab. My sense of urgency was considerable, as Steve P had reminded me, when I alerted him by phone to this unhappy mistake, that Bacon did not accept orders after 1:30 pm.

When I arrived at the restaurant, I settled in, receiving a warm welcome from the Browns. I was to enjoy talking with Robert's wife Susan as much as I did Robert and Steve P during this and the ensuing meal at Maximin. The expanse of ocean and the sky were grey, with emerging hints of blue, and the view offered from the restaurant was a long, uninterrupted stretch. I appreciated the rain and the washed grey tones that day. Just outside the restaurant and close to where we were sitting, a medium-sized lemon tree with fruit bearing appealingly uneven skin beamed at us. The decor of the restaurant was nice and simple -- with white hues predominating -- and glass sculptures of fish adorned the tables. (The fish are made by a local artist, and can also be seen next to the hammocks at Bastide de Moustiers, Moustiers Saint-Marie.)

I was happy with the raw fish salad and bouillabaisse that had been chosen for me, and proceeded to inquire about "cigales de la mer". After some back-and-forth (and attempts by the restaurant to sell us two of the item, which, due to the size of one, we fortunately resisted), the kitchen agreed to prepare a single cigale for the table. The victim of our foodie thoughts was promptly brought to us live on a platter for inspection. I had never seen one in its natural state. The cigale resembled a very plump, rounddish (in terms of thickness of the cross-section of the body), squat-looking lobster; its color was a matte coppery orange-brown. One distinctive feature is that the head is of a different shape than a typical lobster's, and is much larger. Also, there seemed to be more pronounced little spiked "bumps" along the shell of the cigales than on the typical lobster.

The service was not rapid, but that was fine in enabling our dining party to continue discussions. My seafood salad was good, with the freshness of the fish being evident and the dish integrated by a very rich olive oil (perhaps slightly too rich for me, but that is a personal quirk). The diced pile of string beans in the center of the dish was attractive. Vinegar had been utilized to marinate the bean pieces, and the resulting limited amount of acidity pleased. I was not able to identify the fish species utilized in this dish. Robert seemed to be enjoying this dish considerably as well, as Susan and Steve busied themselves with a foie gras terrine salad.

The cigale, spit lengthwise into halves, was brought to our table before being deshelled and apportioned at a serving table. The crustacean's body is more "substantial" (and the shell containing meat "deeper" when viewed) than a lobster's. The dining room staff member seemed to be scooping yet more meat out of the shell every time we looked. One cigale was abundant for four diners.  Chunks of cigales flesh were presented, accompanied by a cream and butter-based, herbed emulsion-type sauce (nage). I didn't rely very much on the sauce because the meat was sufficiently interesting to sample on its own. The flesh was more "muscular", dense (in a very good sense) and crisp than Brittany lobster. Its texture was noteworthy, and in parts, there almost seemed to be distinct "plates" or "ridges" of white flesh. In some areas where the flesh had been taken from next to the shell, there remained tiny peaked effects; these did not noticeably affect the taste.

I wholeheartedly enjoyed the cigale dish. The texture was closer to langouste. There was a strong "crisp" feel in the mouth, and the flesh expressed itself convincingly without the sweet-like aftertaste one sometimes finds in lobster. Robert and I agreed that the flesh in the claw area of the cigale resembled lobster more, including with respect to limited sweet-like aftertastes.

The bouillabaisse Robert and I chose, for which Bacon is known, was appealing as well. The broth was rich in flavor. The  significant amounts of fish pieces (white fish) inside the broth were cooked just right. While I could not identify most of the species included, I believe the restaurant included scorpionfish (rascasse in French), an essential element in traditional bouillabaisse recipes. The croutons used for the Bacon bouillabaisse were soft, consisting of a yellow-colored bread. Steve demonstrated to me the utilization of the raw garlic segments offered up next to the rouille. The idea was to rub the garlic onto the croutons so as to transfer the aroma and intensity of the garlic. The rouille was yummy -- just the right creamy, yet somewhat dense, consistency when heaped onto croutons that became immersed in broth. The meal ended with fair desserts, including my iced nougat.

A special meal, particularly as it marked my meeting the Browns in person.  

[robert brown]

And a special meal for the Browns for having met Cabrales. As we found out later at dinner, she can make a bad meal fun. (Sorry Steve, but we already met you weeks ago. But you make a bad meal fun as well!)

[FriedaL]

I'm responding to Cabrales' wonderful post, part. on Bouillabaisse. In southern France, along the coast, this dish is an item on many menus. Often in recipes "overseas" it's labeled and inventoried as a fish soup with all ingredients, broth and pieces of fish included. But that is not correct. From Hyères to Marseille, you will find the true Bouillabaisse: first served as a broth with rouille and garlic-infested croutons. This broth is so delicious that you may overindulge before meeting the real pièce-de-resistance: the platter of fish from the broth, often served on a bowl of chestnut bark. Rascasse (scorpion fish) is the most important fish in the mix, alas less and less available.

A true Bouillabaisse is a delight. The best way to find an authentic rest. is by asking around or looking at its parking lot on Sunday lunch. In any case, local French are passionate about bouillabaisse and will not let you down with their preference.

Frieda

[robert brown]

Frieda, thanks for sharing your enthusiasm and wisdom. Where are you posting from. if I may ask? In trying to pick a bouillabaisse restaurant for an excursion we never made two weeks ago to Marseilles, we noticed the Restaurant Miramar which called itself the cradle of bouilliabaisee or whatever. The Gault-Millau guide then mentioned that it has a website called "bouillabaisee.com". I will look at it soon, but for now I throw it out to the readers to have a look.

[FriedaL]

Robert, I live in the Var dept., just outside a small village, La Garde-Freinet. For the "right" restaurants I rely on local recommendations, but also on a "correct" guide, Guide Gantié (800 bonnes tables de Provence-Cote d'Azur). This guide, only available in France, has never let me down. Particularly looking for affordable places in the region.

Frieda

[Bux]

FriedaL, there was a nice thread on bouillabaisse some time ago. I was unable to find it by doing a search on bouillabaisse, but it's here.

[FriedaL]

Hello Bux,

Thanks for the information. I read the thread on bouillabaisse. Such passion, such enthousiasm about this dish. Rightly so, because it's the best that the Mediterranean with local culinary efforts can offer. Apart from the daube Provencal, of course. Or tapenade, aioli, soupe au pistou, pissalidière, crevettes à l'ail, gigot aux poires. I'll just stop here.

I'll conduct an informal survey among my French neighbors concerning the best bouillabaisse retaurant in the region. Believe me, they know.  Bouillabaisse is an expensive feast, most often taken on Sunday lunch. Not to be taken lightly.

Frieda

[cabrales]

From Hyères to Marseille, you will find the true Bouillabaisse: first served as a broth with rouille and garlic-infested croutons. . . . the real pièce-de-resistance: the platter of fish from the broth, often served on a bowl of chestnut bark.

FriedaL -- While I don't have too much experience with bouillabaisse, I believe the one served at Bacon was of the authentic type you describe. I suspect that the broth and fish would likely have been served separately, had we not ordered the "degustation" version of the bouillabaisse within the context of a prix fixe menu (price was likely approx. 75 euros (?) for what Robert and I ordered, with the cigale de mer being a la carte of course). Given the meal was lunch and our plans to visit Maximin that very night, the a la carte version of the bouillabaisse appeared inappropriate to us.

If it's not too burdensome for you, could you describe the utilization of chestnut bark and how that might augment taste?

On regional specialties, do you have insight into "pieds et paquets"? I saw it on the menu at Samut's Auberge de la Feniere at Lourmarin, but did not order it.

[FriedaL]

Cabrales, First of all I have to correct myself. The fish is served on cork-oak bark, not chestnut. Both trees are prominent in the region. Until the early part of the 20th Century, the cork-oak trees (chènes lièges) were an important source of local income, mainly for producing corks for wine bottles. Later, the cork from Portugal, for instance, was less expensive and as a result the local factories closed and converted to apartments bought by, mainly, foreigners. The village where I live had 3500 inhabitants in the 19th C, now 1600.

These days, the cork-oak trees are still stripped of their bark, but primarily for decorative purposes. For the Bouillabaisse, the cork dish is an embellishment, not adding anything to the taste of the dish, except for saying that it is from the region.  

Chestnut trees continue to be important here for their wonderful fruits in the fall. With Collobrières, my village of La Garde-Freinet is the world's most important source of chestnuts. The signs are all over: forbidden to pick up chestnuts. I would dare to taste a grape from a vineyard in September, but hesitate with a fallen marron on private property.

Pieds et paquets: this is a very Provencal dish, consisting of pigs' feet (pieds), enveloped in the lining of a pig's stomach. Or the other way around. I'm clearly not a fan of "les abats," except for the foie de veau and of course that of the canard or the goose.

Frieda

[cabrales]

Chestnut trees continue to be important here for their wonderful fruits in the fall. With Collobrières, my village of La Garde-Freinet is the world's most important source of chestnuts. The signs are all over: forbidden to pick up chestnuts. I would dare to taste a grape from a vineyard in September, but hesitate with a fallen marron on private property.

FriedaL -- Thanks for your reply. You mentioned marrons; does your village also have chateigne trees, and which chestnut do you prefer? (I like, among other things, marrons glacees, including the mass produced ones one can find at Fauchon, and chestnuts in some game dishes.)

[Steve Plotnicki]

Friedel-I have been too busy writing a thesis on Loulou (which I hope to post soon) so I haven't had time to respond here. First of all, I've been buying the Guide Gantie for years. In fact I picked up a copy of the 2001 guide in nice this past weekend in Nice. I wish the 2002 was out but, for some reason they release it late in the year.

As for Bacon, I thought lunch was fine. My foie gras was delicious, and my St. Pierre en papillote was good too, if a bit overcooked. Still, as much as I can say that I like Bacon, I also think that in many ways it is the most overrated restaurant on the coast, if not one of the most overrated in France. And this extends to their bouillabaisse as well. I tasted the broth and it was fine and rich. But it was missing the real oomph that I like in my bouiilabaisse.

I'll take Loulou any day of the week over Bacon.

[robert brown]

In sports page lingo, there’s an expression “From first to worst”, invoked when a team falls completely apart between one year and the next. This is the way I now consider Restaurant Jacques Maximin after my meal last weekend with my wife, Cabrales, and Steve Plotnicki, with the reason we decided to dine there being that I felt it to be the best of the several two-star restaurants on the Cote d’Azur.

No doubt some eGullet readers, younger ones most likely, are unaware that Jacques Maximin was one of the most revered chefs in France during the 1970s and 1980s when he was the chef of Restaurant Chanteclair in Nice’s Hotel Negresco. Since he left there, his career has been plagued by failed ventures and personal demons. In fact, I recently compared him on this site to David Bouley, though their exact circumstances are not really comparable. By opening his own restaurant (filled with some good works of Nicois artists and decorated in good Provencal taste) on his residential property in Vence in the mid-1990s, he again was trying to strike out on his own. It was clear from the beginning that this was not an attempt to become a three-star chef or even to regain the 19/20 Gault-Millau rating he used to have in Nice. The prices he charged were not high (at first) and the dishes he made were often well-conceived, but almost never virtuoso-like or luxurious. In fact, he has always relied on the “menu” format, offering three or four at every meal and just a handful of a la carte dishes such as the ones the four of us had during our visit.

I sensed trouble before we arrived. Madame Maximin first refused my wish to bring my own wine, not unusual in and of itself, but it was the offensive “how dare you ask” tone in which she said I could not. Then on the morning of our dinner, a woman from the restaurant woke us up at 09:11 to ask if we would be a party of three or four. Upon arrival at the restaurant, the parking attendant was “hors combat”, nowhere to be seen. Then en route to our table, I saw Maximin standing on the steps to the kitchen watching us walk by. When I asked him how he was, he gave me a cold stare and said nothing.

Once at our table, we met consistently with the “politess” and flexibility of a military mess hall. Madame Maximin almost seemed to delight in frustrating us at every turn as we tried to compose an interesting meal by seeing if we could take dishes from one menu and combine them with those on another menu, or order an a la carte dish along with menu ones. When we wanted to order one duck that was meant for two for the four of us so that we could try another dish, she made us order two ducks without giving us the chance to say that we would not mind if we were served only two legs. The sommelier, a young and obviously green one, even though he was working from a list barely appropriate for a local bistro, didn’t seem to know the wines very well, and when I told him clearly that our bottle of red Burgundy had become “chambre” (room temperature) and to make it cooler, he decanted and poured it instead.

Our food was all over the lot in terms of quality. (See Cabrale’s post above for the exact names and composition) The “amuse-bouche” was a small portion of a duck terrine en gelee served in a tiny ”ramequin” which as Steve aptly said was a use of the “amuse-bouche” to rid the larder of leftovers as opposed to give a sense of anticipation as to what is to follow. The eggs with asparagus was excellent, (but extremely overpriced at about $90 for our four half-portions), each aspect of it, such as the tiny pieces of tomato, having an individual taste of its own. Yet, the scallops in the salad of St. Jacques a la Catalan were clearly a day or two old. Finally, our duck service of the aiguillettes was seriously marred by slices that were a good distance beyond the “rose” that we asked for. Had I not seen Maximin in the flesh, I would have thought he took the night off and that some “stagier” had cooked the ducks.

As I left, Madame Maximin and two waitresses were seated in the reception area waiting patiently for me, the last to leave. I suddenly recalled that Maximin had named his outdoor dining area “Terrasse Alain Chapel”. The potent remark to Madame Maximin would have been that the legendary chef would never have allowed an experience like ours to have ever taken place in his restaurant. As the four of us reassembled at Steve’s car, I told the other three that all I did was say a quick “bonne nuit” without stopping. Cabrales said that all of our perfunctory farewells were an adequate showing of disapproval, and Steve felt that the staff knew English well enough to have certainly heard some our negative comments during the meal. My wife did give a slight benefit of the doubt saying that Maximin may try harder during the high season. Unfortunately our bill of 650 Euros would be the same regardless.

[robert brown]

Frieda and Steve, against my tendency to see the bright side of everything, I beg to differ about the Guide Gantier. (Worst of all,I hate to disagree right off the bat with a marvelous new poster). Of course its wide range of addresses has led me to such people as Claude Chartron who opens her house to small private dinners and has since become my caterer for meals at home, as well as to Restaurant Castellaras in Fayence which is the most deceitful restaurant I knew of in the region. I have studied enough guide books to be able to tell when the writer is paying his way and when he is eating for free. Jacques Gantier is an example of the latter. He seldom has a bad word to say in a territory where there are lots of bad restaurants. His awarding one, two, or three sprigs or whatever they are seems meaningless. In other words, the guide doesn't do a good job of discriminating. I will say in its favor that it is the only guide that is comprehensive and is very handy for food and wine shopping. Anyone who spends more than a couple of weeks in the South of France needs to buy it, all things considered.

[cabrales]

Brouillade aux asperges sauvages (Scrambled eggs with wild asparagus)

Salade de Saint Jacques fraiches a la catalane (Fresh scallops salad, Catalan style)

Canette de Lauragain rotie a l'ail doux en poivrade 2 persons (Roasted duckling from Lauragain with garlic and pepper)

Tres fine tarte aux pommes vertes, sirop cidre-vanille-citron, sorbet (Fine green apple tart, with a cider-vanilla-lemon syrup, sorbet),

Petite nage de fraises (Nage of strawberries), or

Sable pur beurre aux fraises et ravioles rissolees de framboises fraiches, sorbet (Butter "sable" with strawberries and browned raviolis containing fresh rasberries, sorbet)  

Robert's assessment of Maximin is comparable to my own. Below is supplemental detail on the meal:

-- The amuse described by Robert was unconventionally heavy to begin the meal. It was also an unusual, almost black color on the outside, and sat amidst a dark gelee.

-- Very thin stalks of asparagus were laced into the scrambled eggs in a nice way. It had been a while since I last had had asparagus with stems this thin, and their taste was, to me, somewhere between "regular"-sized green asparagus and certain types of tender haricots or stalky beans.

As Steve and Susan observed, the scrambled eggs were made more interesting by the bottom thereof, which consisted of a smoother layer of egg instead of having the expected texture of scrambled egg. The group speculated about how this effect had been achieved.

-- Next, the scallops dish, which, despite its name, was not presented with a salad in the commonly-understood sense. The texture of the scallops was not as firm as it should have been, and a bit of freshness was indeed missing. In addition, the attached pieces of "coraile" had a certain unnaturalness to them. Diced tomatoes were utilized in the dish, as were small sections of orange which did not match the remainder of the dish. However, the use of thyme and little purple flowers (likely thyme blossoms) was helpful to the dish.

Steve P noted that a review of the menus suggested Maximin was utilizing the same ingredient in multiple dishes and otherwise taking steps to run his business. (It was hard to gauge how quiet the restaurant tends to be on other than a Saturday night. The capacity of the place was likely under 40 persons, and it was full on the Saturday night we visited.)

-- The duckling (it was fairly large) was presented in two services. The aiguillettes were noticeably overcooked, as Robert noted. There was a large portion for each of us, given Mde Maximin's insistence that we order two ducklings. The second service of duck (the thighs, accompanied by a side salad) was fattier and better.

-- We declined cheese because the cheese plate looked literally very dreary. It was evident that the aging and quality of the 3-5 challenged specimens were wanting. A table adjacent to us suffered the fate of apparently receiving pieces of cheese placed before them, and not having even been asked for the diners' choices.

The large apple tart I had tasted fine. We were offered mandarin or clementine sorbet, which did not taste home-made or particularly refined. Robert's sable came with some hot little pastry packets containing whole rasberries inside. The mignardises included sugared kumquat and a candied green grape.

-- As Robert described, the wine service was poor. Robert and Steve agreed that the wine list was very thin, and also overpriced. The "best" wine the sommelier could offer were some young Batard-Montrachets and Corton Charlemagnes at inflated prices. When Steve asked why a better selection was lacking, the sommelier proffered the excuse that most French wine is exported and it is difficult to secure allocations in France!

-- Mde Maximin was inflexible and non-client-oriented. She had a way of making her dissatisfaction with many of our suggestions clear -- her facial expressions didn't require much interpretation! Admittedly, we did have a few questions, but her responses were rather abrupt and dismissive.

-- At Maximin, the degustation menu prices appeared more reasonable than the a la carte prices. For example, the brouillade was in the price range Robert described, but a multiple-course tasting menu could begin ar around 60 euros or less, depending on the number of dishes included.

-- The decor is mixed. The main dining room contained various artworks and sculptures, and seemed quite "busy" decor-wise. Prominent were two large metallic expanses sculpted by Arman (sic). One features hundreds of metallic spoons amassed; the other hundreds of forks. These sculptures are recognizable because Arman's much more 3D and taller sculpture in Roanne opposite the Troisgros facility also features utensils. The relatively modern works of Arman were combined with more traditional decorations.

Part of dining out is acceptance that a restaurant's performance on any given night may not be what one would have hoped, and that many factors can affect the quality offered to diners.

Our party did enjoy the evening, albeit for reasons other than Maximin's cuisine. In the end, this meal put in a little reminder that, notwithstanding my emphasis on cuisine in evaluating a restaurant meal, it is dining companions that are key at times.   And it was through eGullet that our group came together.

[Bux]

insight into "pieds et paquets"?

Obviously you know it translates as feet and packages.

Pieds et paquets: this is a very Provencal dish, consisting of pigs' feet (pieds), enveloped in the lining of a pig's stomach. Or the other way around. I'm clearly not a fan of "les abats,"

I seem to recall reading about this dish in Waverly Root's The Food of France. My copy seems to have disappeared though I have a memory of lamb's feet and tripe being involved. That may have been as an option to pig's parts. I also thought that it involved the feet along side the packages which are stuffed  pieces of tripe. It may be that the tripe is stuffed with the meat from the feet. I am a great lover of tripe and most offal meats. Feet, however, are not ones that I love when the meat is still on the bone. Tripe is a favorite. Nevertheless, out of curiosity, I orded this dish once in small restaurant in Provence. To my delight there were no feet in the mix. To my surprise, I got a rather nouveau presentation with the paquets coming inside out in the form of meatballs stuffed with tripe in the center. They were served in a tomato sauce flavored with cumin. I remember the dish, but not the restaurant and I think it was in Aix.

[Bux]

the scrambled eggs were made more interesting by the bottom thereof, which consisted of a smoother layer of egg instead of having the expected texture of scrambled egg. The group speculated about how this effect had been achieved.

It's hard to make an educated guess without having been there, but let me try with a steamed or baked custard on top of which the eggs are place. Was this is a cup or bowl capable of standing some heat.

the degustation menu prices appeared more reasonable than the a la carte prices.

Throughout our recent trip I noted that the cost of an appetizer and  main course, although often enough there's no difference in size or price between the two, were as much as the cost of eating the two dishes à la carte and cheese and desert or two were free. Often a third course in addition to cheese and dessert could be had on a "menu" for the price of two savory courses à la carte. Sometimes, there was no carte from which to offer, just a choice of "menus."

[cabrales]

the scrambled eggs were made more interesting by the bottom thereof, which consisted of a smoother layer of egg instead of having the expected texture of scrambled egg. The group speculated about how this effect had been achieved.

It's hard to make an educated guess without having been there, but let me try with a steamed or baked custard on top of which the eggs are place. Was this is a cup or bowl capable of standing some heat.

Bux -- Apologies my initial description was not sufficiently accurate. The egg "layer" at the bottom appeared to be the same color and general flavor (although not the same texture) as the scrambled eggs, and was actually linked to the top "normal" part of the eggs.

An uninformed guess, given my lack of any cooking skills: The cooking technique used somehow permitted the egg mixture used for both to first "set" or "settle" into the bottom layer. Perhaps the general scrambled egg parts were cooked separately and simultaneously, to be placed directly onto the bottom layer when both were hot so that they bound to each other? It's highly unclear to me. Perhaps Robert or Steve might have more informed guesses.  

[Steve Plotnicki]

I actually composed a post about Maximin this morning but the system crashed and I lost it. Let me try again.

I think the meal we ate at Maximin is the epitomy of the French dining experience going wrong. First of all, the menu looked suspicious to me as there were two many dishes using the same item. The Coquiles St. Jacques appeared at least twice, as did the wild asparagus. It smelled to me that Jacques was trying to use up what he had left in the pantry before he closed after Sunday lunch. Now that isn't necessarily a bad thing but, it is if the food has been laying around since the middle of the week. And my suspicions were confirmed when the amuse bouche turned out to be a rather large portion of chicken terrine in some type of jelly. It was coarse, both in texture as well as in lack of refinement I thought. I had two bites and I sat my fork down.

The Brouillade with Asperges Sauvage was the best dish we ate that night. The infamous set layer of egg at the bottom of the dish seemed to be from a thin layer of the egg batter being steamed by some type of utensil. One theory was that the dish was set on a warm surface and that caused a thin layer at the bottom of the dish to set. But based on how it appeared aerated, I vote for it being steamed from above by a hose like contraption. I guess it could also happen from being placed in a Bain Marie and having the steam come from the bottom. Whatever, the two different textures of egg made for an interesting dish. The asperge were a bit bitter though I thought. But all in all it was pretty interesting.

The quality of the scallops in the Salade Catalane was really poor. The coral was fishy tasting, having none of the creaminess I associate with fresh scallops. And the texture of the body did not have the usual springiness I associate with good scallops. Someone said they though they were a day or two old. I think it was more like the better part of the week.

But the duck fiasco, which was the piece de resistance in our interaction with Madame is as unacceptable as it gets.  When we asked Madame about the four of us splitting one duck, her response seemed to indicate that the canette wouldn't be large enough for the four of us. But then when they brought two rather large creatures to our table, I almost bust my kiester. Then when they brought me a plate that was overflowing with long strips of breast (overcooked by a good 5-7 minutes), I realized that she had told us it wouldn't serve four because there was a second service and two legs couldn't be eaten by four people. Now why oh why, and this is so typical in France, could she not have been specific about what the problem was? Hasn't she ever heard of pleasing your customers? Why couldn't she say that she would be happy to serve one duck for four but two people wouldn't get legs?I would have immediately volunteered to forego it. But Madame has such little imagination because in France, THAT'S THE WAY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO EAT IT! How could they possibly serve it any other way? And the cheese board consisted of three lonely looking cheeses that looked so unappetizing that we passed on cheese even though it was included in our meal.

Now I have eaten around ten meals from Maximin's hand. Five or six at Chantecler, two at his place in the theater, one at Le Diamant Rose when he cooked there, another one somewhere in Antibes though the exact place escapes me, and I have been at this restaurant one time when they first opened about 5 years ago. And I would say that this effort is no better than 40% of what I am used to getting from him. It's too bad. And although I am understanding that the guy is running a business and doesn't want to be stuck with food etc., you need to have some standards.

[cabrales]

As groups of eGulleteers get together for meals, I am finding interesting the descriptions of the same meal as experienced by different members. Recent examples inhere not only in this thread, but also in "La Trompette" under "United Kingdom & Ireland" and "Unofficial New York Dinner" under "New York". (The threads might also speak a bit to the posting styles of participating members.)  

[John Whiting]

Amidst all this splendor, a happy echo of modest little La Garde-Freinet. I found it once by accident while looking for an inexpensive hotel well away from the tourist-infested coast. Driving hopelessly along a dark road, we suddenly entered a brightly lit main street with a row of picturesque little shops and cafés and a modest but acceptable hotel. The patron, next door in his own bar, responded to the bell and we ended up in a decent room for a mere 200 francs.

Just along the street was a gay little restaurant with a gay little proprietor who turned out to be Dutch. La Colombe Joyeuse -- the tiny ring which served as its business card still sits on our mantlepiece. A tasty fish soup and a succulent venison stew rounded out the evening more pleasantly than I'd had any hopes for. There are a couple of better restaurants in town, I later learned, but I was happy with what I had. And on a Sunday night, too, when rural France is about as welcoming as a threatened hedgehog.

[FriedaL]

Hello Cabrales,

The village where I live, La Garde-Freinet, is with Collobrières the main source of chestnuts. The difference between chataignes and marrons: when you open a chestnut and find just one, round fruit, it's a marron. When you find two clamped together it's a chataigne. There's not much difference in taste between the two, but the marron is lesser found and perfect for the marrons glacées. In Collobrières you find a small store where they make and sell the best. Beside it is a small museum where you can see the delicate process. It wouldn't surprise me if the marrons at Fauchon came from Collobrières. The store also sells a marron ice cream which is very rich and very special.

The harvest of chestnuts is in October. Both villages then host chestnut festivals which attract thousands of people. The villages have a tenuous, but unspoken rivalry concerning chestnuts. When I created the web site for LGF (www.lagardefreinet-tourisme.com), I was told not to use the chestnut as an emblem. It was already taken by Collobrières. On another web site I manage, www.aboutprovence.com, you will find in the archives of Flash! an article on chestnuts.

As far as pieds et paquets are concerned: I've learned, the pieds are cooked before, the meat scraped off and added to the mix that is then folded inside the small package of tripe lining. Tied, the packages simmer for more than 12 hours in a Provencal tomato sauce with herbes de Provence. Last night, on local Gourmet-TV, Reine Sammut, of Auberge de la Fenière in Lourmarin, Vaucluse, recounted how she gradually moved from standard Provencal bistrot fare to more creative dishes, all the while retaining the Provencal spirit. After her first Michelin star, she evolved to more refined dishes. But the one she couldn't eliminate from her menu was pieds et paquets.

Frieda

[FriedaL]

Hello John,

Wonderful that you found La Garde-Freinet. I live just outside the village. For a little village of 1600 inhabitants it boasts of, at last count, 11 restaurants, indicating that the village is "in the lift," with the ensuing lift in property prices which the local people are not too happy about. We all hope and pray that it will not become a ghost town off season, such as Grimaud, 8 km to the south.

Most restaurants are of average, but acceptable quality, including La Colombe Joyeuse, owned by a Belgian, not Dutch proprietor. Their specialty was/is pigeons, since they also owned a pigeon elevage just outside the village. An ambitious project, including a pigeon museum, that has now been down-scaled to just enough pigeons to supply the restaurant.

The "best" restaurant in town is the Faucado along the RN that transverses the village. In summer you dine in a beautiful garden, in winter inside with a Provencal decor, including a blazing fireplace. I've eaten there once, and never again, despite the atempts of friends to draw me back to the garden. It was August, high season and the service was very bad, the magret de canard cooked to leather. I sent it back and by the time I received a better version my table companions (at my urging) had finished their main course and I had eaten the garniture left on my plate, which was very delicious, though. Perhaps I should give it another chance. In the meantime, I prefer the sympa La Colombe Joyeuse or the Maurin de Maures in Le Rayol-Canadel, one of the few restaurants on the coast that are affordable and correct. I have an invitation there next week and will take notes!

For more information on La Garde-Freinet, visit their web site: www.lagardefreinet-tourisme.com

Frieda