Fourvière & Paul Bocuse — Oct 8

I am in Provence now, dedicating a quiet evening to blogging. It’s quite peaceful and welcoming and cozy. And I am determined to not fall behind, or at least catch up when I fall behind, before I fall even further behind. OK – enough of this, let’s go back a couple days to Lyon, to Thursday the 8th.

Enjoying the spaciousness of Artelit, we did some more yoga in the morning. I prefer to do yoga in a class, when someone tells me what to do. But I know enough about yoga and enough about my body, that I can create a routine that works for me. And the investment of time is well worth the effort, seriously.

We began our day going straight up to the Basilica and Eiffel Tower looking building on top of the hill. We noticed them from the cab ride, when we first arrived in town. It’s hard not to notice them, since they tower above everything else. Also, neither Dan nor I are particularly knowledgeable about architectural history and we simply couldn’t get a read on the Basilica. The shape of some of its columns almost gave it a Muslim influence, but the four large crosses on top of it ensured us that it had Christian influences.

We took our map and realized that there was a steep staircase that started down the road from home and if we climbed and zigged and zagged enough, we would get there eventually. And we did. We entered through the Jardin de Rosares (Rosary gardens) and that was basically the back side of the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere. There were paths through the gardens and although it was the end of the growing season, I could tell it was a place teaming with life.

The Basilique is almost 100 feet tall and the stonework is absolutely mesmerizing. The church does not appear to be too old, or if it is, it’s in excellent condition. There were other people there, but it wasn’t too crowded. Should we go in? Why not? I am totally happy we did. It was one of the most stunning churches I have been in. There were so many colors used, in the marble and on the walls and floors, it really stands out from the churches that are engraved in stone, as intricate and impressive as the engravings are. We sat there for a while taking in the sacred feeling that surrounded us. Later we conversed about that we would each go to a church like that if we lived close to it, not when services were happening, but to absorb the energy of the space in solitude.

The church was built in the 1872-1896, which for a church of this magnitude, is in the blink of an eye. The architect, Pierre Bossan wanted the church to look different than the Gothic and Romanesque styles, and so he drew upon a variety of other influences. This explains why when we first looked at it, we were confused as to its style.

Close by is a building, Tour Metalique, that is a smaller version of the Eiffel Tower. It was built in 1893 and now it has a large TV antenna on top of it. There are many examples in France where the old is juxtaposed next to the new and it makes for an interesting mélange. It was actually sort of ugly up close, but from afar, and not being able to see the mammoth antenna on it, it was attractive.

On the way down to Vieux-Lyon, we stopped at the Théâtre Romain. It was built in 15AD and consists of two amphitheaters. The large one held 10,000 people and was used to host gladiator and animal fights. The smaller one held about 3,000 people and it was used to host poetry readings and musical recitals. Talk about juxtaposition.

We walked back down the hill, and bumped into Frédéric and purchased some of his prints. He has lived in Lyon his whole life and he exhibits a lot of pride around it. And obviously from all the photography he displays (his livelihood outside of running Artelit), he has a great appreciation for the city. We tried to get into his favorite bouchon again and they were booked, so we went to Le Trois Mères, which we read about in the Lonely Planet guide. They were closing down when we got there, but we got them to agree to serve us. Sitting outside, next to a very sweet German shorthaired pointer named Ignat, was a highlight. We had pigs’ feet again and perhaps I could get used to them. Also, we tried a Lyonnaise dish, called quenelles. It is creamed fish, meat or veggies, held together with eggs, and formed into an oval and baked. It was served with a cèpe sauce, and was very simple and satisfying. It looks simple enough to make with the right recipe and I am up for trying it at home sometime. I very much enjoy cooking a meal reminiscent of places I have traveled to.

 

After lunch we walked to the history museum, Musée Gadange. One realizes how much can and does take place on any one spot on the earth through the centuries. There were 30 rooms and they went through the history of Lyon in chronological order, with a focus on how the silk and cinema industries evolved through the years, as well as the political changes that occurred. For instance, at one point, Lyon had the same mayor for 50 years. At the end of the history museum, we had an option to continue to the puppet museum, since it was connected, but honestly, it was a nice day weather wise and we were both itching to get outside for some exercise.

Dan’s bike squeaked so much when he pedaled it, because the back wheel was rubbing on the frame, that at some point, we needed to get to a Vélo station and change it up. He wanted a workout, but not one that felt like he was pedaling through 50 pounds of mud! We got on the Rhône and decided to head north, as yesterday we went south. The city does sprawl for quite a while (downside of few storied buildings), but eventually we got to the more rural part. It felt great and in theory we could have kept going for a long while, but we did need to turn around and head home, to get ready for dinner at L’Auberge du Pont de Collonges, created by the renowned Paul Bocuse.

Paul Bocuse’s restaurant is less than ten miles north of Lyon. We were not quite sure what to expect, but were very excited at the possibilities. We called a cab from the hotel and twenty minutes later, we were picked up. Only cabs and residents could enter Vieux-Lyon with cars. There are poles that block the streets, yet the cab drivers have some sort of card that can shift the poles temporarily to let them through.

So, I am going to skip describing the food dish for dish, bite for bite, and instead, I am going to describe our experience.

The evening before, Dan got an email in bold, red lettering that was threatening to cancel our reservation, if we didn’t reconfirm with them by 8pm. It could have been more courteous, honestly. He responded by 8:30pm and then also called and the woman stated how excited she was to serve us. So not the ideal start, but the night still had possibilities.

The decor was more classic Provence style, not elegant in white and black, and it worked quite well. A doorman came out and opened up the cab door to let me out and we were quickly seated.

The next few hours that followed had us completely confused. Once seated, we noticed that everything on the table – plates, glasses and napkins, were engraved with the words Paul Bocuse. It was a bit on the cheesy side. The back of the menu sang his praises about how he pays attention to every detail and how he is all about classic French cooking and also about his entrepreneurial skills, opening patisseries and other restaurants in Lyon and also in Disney World.

The people there were dressed surprisingly casual. Denims, t-shirts and the like. Surely this does not diminish their value as people, but it could be nice to honor this special experience with looking one’s best. It would elevate the experience for themselves and for everyone else.

We ordered the mid-level tasting menu. The service was surprisingly curt to start. No offerings to explain the food. Just quickly put the plate down and then the waiter dashed off to the kitchen or next table. There was one amuse bouche and then the meal began. That is fine, but generally for a tasting menu (dégustation), there is more than one amuse bouche. I think what was irking us, was the way the service was all business and very impersonal. In fact, we were simply not understanding how this restaurant could get three Michelin stars for 50 consecutive year, and it was nowhere close to as good as other places we had been. Not even in the same league.

The food was very tasty and it did follow the style of classic French cooking, with the heavy reliance of traditional sauces to accent the food. The food was very rustic in its style though. Nowhere near haute cuisine. I saw the table next to us get their Bresse chicken and it was served in a bladder, all expanded and very dramatic. The waiter cut the bladder and then served the plates. Their plates looked like Thanksgiving dinner. Now that I think about it, all the food that we had was completely rustic and tasty, but is something I could have thrown together on any given Tuesday night on a moment’s notice. Certainly not worthy of any Michelin stars, let alone three. Politics at play here, that is for certain.

And what is worse, is that the head waiter’s service seemed to decline as the evening progressed. He went from cur, to downright rude. I would ask him a question about the food and he would rapidly mumble something and then not even finish his sentence and walk away. Very rude indeed. On top of that, he had some serious body odor. Please, have some common courtesy and don’t make the patrons smell your sweaty pits while they are attempting to enjoy this overpriced bouchon food.

Also, since portions were huge, they had to use five trays for the cheese and dessert platters. They were brought out and then the diners could select what they wanted. For quite some time, while we were eating our dinner, these trays were out for nearby tables. But they were essentially locking us in to our table, as if surrounded by a jail of so-so desserts. We actually passed on those two courses for ourselves. I did have just a bit of fresh strawberries and raspberries though and neither one was even close to the peak of ripeness. At the very least, they should be serving local and seasonal food and dispensing with strawberries in October and moving towards figs or grapes.

There was one saving grace in the evening. When I would ask about the food to someone other than the super rude waiter, they would get the manager to come and talk to us. He was very nice and when he was describing an herb used in a particular sauce and I didn’t understand what it was, he went into the kitchen to get some and brought it to me. My face lit up immediately, it was one of my favorite herbs, rosemary. It is also very helpful for digesting fat, which is complementary to classic French dishes like foie gras and pig’s feet. After a few times of interacting with us, he did offer to take us into the kitchen for a tour.

And so we went. The cooks were already finished for the evening, but even seeing the equipment and scale that this restaurant works on was a lot of fun. There are different burners for fish, meat, veggies and sauces. Huge refrigerators also organized by types of food. Then we went into a whole other room, where the fish is processed when it comes fresh from the poissonière (fish merchant). It’s quite a production! The pastry chefs were still in the thick of their jobs, as people were still eating desserts and we could feel the rush of the busyness with people bustling in and out in a constant stream. I met the pastry chef and thanked him. And then we got a tour of the upstairs, which was tonight, occupied by a party of over 30 people, but on other nights, is used to sit patrons, if the downstairs fills. We were very gracious and thanked the manager for giving us the opportunity to get more personally acquainted with the behind the scene going ons.

This meal prompted us to not only scratch our heads in wonderment about Michelin restaurants, but we decided to start a list with our rankings of the places we have eaten, as well as create an official spreadsheet to be objective as possible with our process.

The cab driver on the way home was uber friendly and he talked to us the whole time and showed us things on his GPS and google earth, which seemed to be his iPad with some sort of interactive application. We were dropped off at our hotel and joked that we have gotten excellent customer service in France, except for at Paul Bocuse’s restaurant. We even got great service from the cab driver.

We walked back to the Sâone and went for our evening (or at this point, late night) walk. We heard drums in the distance. So we casually went in that direction. We didn’t really see where it was coming from, but we just followed the rhythmic beats. We got down to the bike/pedestrian path on the other side of the river and when we got close, we stopped and danced a bit. Just looking at the crowd, I could have been in Eugene. It was about 60 people, all young adults (except for us) and hippie looking. I always smile when I travel far from home and end up experiencing something very much like what I may at home. I think it speaks to what unifies us all – music and the need for gathering and expressing one’s creativity and independence in this case.

Our walk continued for another mile or so, and eventually, close to 2am, we arrive back at Artelit in a continued state of confusion about the Michelin rating system.