![]() īefore going to France, I find myself chasing the French countryside dream. Women really like this wine.” So much so that she forgoes the food and wine pairing rules and reaches for the Fleurie for any dish. Annaëlle gives me a knowing look and sighs, “Very delicate and feminine. The château has the Côte de Brouilly, Brouilly, Fleurie and Morgon. “That’s the best thing about the Beaujolais,” Annaëlle says in quiet awe. They are the many iterations of a single Gamay grape. The Beaujolais comes in different crus – Moulin-à-Vent, Morgon, Fleurie, Juliénas, Saint Amour, Côte de Brouilly, Brouilly, Chiroubles, Régnié, Chénas. In a bouchon, there is only ever the Beaujolais. “The owner likes to preserve old things,” Annaëlle tells us as we breathe in the smell of oak in the 18th century cellar where the Beaujolais is created. The garden looks like a Monet painting and the château is dressed in the most beautiful coat of paint. It is through these fields that we come to the doorsteps of Château de la Chaize. When we drive out of Lyon in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region, fields and fields of vines and chateaus pass us by. As we head off into the night, the street lights still twinkle for Lyon. Inside, we are surrounded by jars of jam, foie gras and rillettes. At Le Sirop de la Rue, Frederic is handing out cups of sweet wine and saucisson cuts to anyone who dares venture into his tiny shop. In the old town, crepe stands are set up and everyone wants theirs with nutella. Along the Saône River, Romanesque, Gothic and French Renaissance architecture shimmer in the warm light. There is the La Basilique Notre Dame de Fourvière, the Église Saint-Nizier de Lyon, the Eglise Saint Georges, the Église Saint-bruno-lès-chartreux. This is a true bouchon.Įverywhere we go in Lyon, we see churches and buildings that are the stuff fairytales are made of. Even as we left the bouchon that night, more people are streaming in. Everything on our table was emptied by the end of the night. He cocks an eyebrows and shakes his head, saying “Hmmmm why is this still here? Come! Let me help you!” With that, he splits the french potatoes on our plates. Yoann comes over and eyes the remaining gratin dauphinois left on the table. We ate until we are beyond satisfied, without a care for any sort of decorum. We feel so pampered by the meal that followed – a steady procession of roasted bone marrow dusted with fleur de sel, eggs poached in red wine sauce, quenelle, pork neck and mushrooms in cream sauce, pears poached in red wine, baba au rhum. Then there is the steak… But you didn’t come to Lyon to have a steak!” Yoann declares. Quenelle, something like a pike fish souffle. “For the mains, we have tete de veau, the pork head. Yoann likes to do his rounds in the restaurant sharing with people what’s on the menu that day, and a laugh or two. It seems like Saturday is bouchon day for the Lyonnaise. Like every other bouchons on Saturday, dinner at La Tete de Lard is fully booked. That Lyonnaise saying about eating in Lyon came from Yoann, the owner of La Tete de Lard. The bouchon can be a very addictive experience, and so we are off to another the next night. I can think of no better painting for this bouchon where we spent the hours enjoying saucisson lyonnais, pork tenderloin and tarte aux pralines with chantilly cream. There’s meat, sausages, cheese and jugs of wine. As I sit opposite Roy while the waitress huffs in and out of the kitchen carrying armfuls of plates overflowing with frites, I stare wide-eyed at the painting of gourmands eating at a dining table. ![]() In Le Vieux, there is a very large painting that stretches from end to end. This dining institution is heavily guarded by the community as it preserves the most quintessential Lyonnaise dishes. The most delicious meals in Lyon always, always begins and ends in a bouchon. Chandeliers in the dining hall, caviar on potatoes, champagne flowing into crystal… But Lyon will always be the most delectable city, the one with everything that characterises French cooking. To me, Paris will have the most beautiful, decadent restaurants. Forever rivals vying for the title of the food capital of France. Paris and Lyon have always been the two great French cities. Since then, I know that food and dining is everything in Lyon. At work you do what you have to, in bed you do what you can, and on the table you do what you must.
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