Artelit is a sweet place, and I am glad we found this gem. I smile whenever I turn around, or try to lay my head on something and knock into some piece of art.
We started the day with 20 minutes of yoga. It was difficult to do yoga in Paris, because the size of the apartment was smaller than my bedroom at home (as if a kitchen and bathroom were put into my bedroom). We both agreed afterwards that we felt centered and glad we did it.
We purposely stayed in old town, knowing it would be charming and full of history. So we started the sightseeing in our hood. There are a series of traboules, which are passageways, some above ground and some below, that form a labyrinth of sorts and were built for the silk workers to transport silk around the city, when the weather was inclement. They were started in the Renaissance and continued to be developed until the 18th Century. Today, they often lead to squares and courtyards.
Some of the courtyards are very well preserved and attractive and others are more dilapidated. We saw some other staircases, built on the outside like ours was, but for some reason, ours is on the historical tours and some of the others are not.
We wandered into an interesting museum, Musée Miniature and Cinema, about the special effects of film and the role miniature models played in them. There were model sets on the scale of dollhouses with explanations of what films they were used in. I guess it is easier to build a small version of a street, than to look for a street in real life that works, and occupy it for months at a time. This museum is not a must do, but for wandering by and checking out the local scene, it is certainly worth a gander.
We walked over to St Jean’s Cathedral, also in old town. It has a gothic facade that was put on it and it resembles Notre Dame. Honestly, seeing a lot of churches, they can start to blend together with their architecture and history. But this being said, it was strikingly beautiful and the crisp, autumn air and bright blue skies with scattered puffy clouds made for a wonderful scene. Inside was a large organ. I saw posters that this church, like St Eustache in Paris, also has organ concerts on Sunday evenings. We won’t be there for it, but I am happy for those who get to enjoy it- it will be such a treat.
We had a lunch reservation planned for 12pm and started walking in that direction. We didn’t know the geography of Lyon when we selected the restaurant and it was quite a ways east of the Rhône while we were west of the Saône. In short, this equaled a 40 minute power walk through the Presqu’île and the left bank. The left bank is more modern, although still lots of old buildings by US standards. It is where we noted many offices of attorneys and insurance agents, as well as Les Halles, the indoor market and we made a mental note to go back there after lunch.
We were the first ones seated at Le Gourmet de Sèze and it was both modern and elegant, not overdone in any way, but comfortably classy. The servers were very attentive and we were excited to see what was to come. We selected this chef to try, because in our research (highly extensive I might add!), I noticed he had studied with four chefs, one of which was Joël Robuchon. Since we are lovers of Joël’s work, we were intrigued with the idea of following the genealogy of chefs and seeing if we could recognize styles and such. His name is Bernard Mariller and before going, we referred to him as “Joël’s friend”, we can say he is completely deserving of being honored for who he is, Bernard of Le Sèze.
They had a tasting menu as a lunch option and even though we knew we would be limiting our exposure to his true artistic talent, we opted for just ordering a couple things off the menu. We received an amuse bouche of the most brilliantly colored (and tasting) squash soup. It almost looked like it had saffron in it, but I don’t think it did. An expertly placed spoonful of crème fraiche and shavings of black truffles and we were grinning from ear to ear.
Then I received my escargot course. I had only had escargot with a butter sauce before and this was completely new to me. The snails were placed beautifully on pureed lentils and decorated with onions, lardons (pork, similar to bacon) and tomato confit.
Dan had croustillants de pieds de cochon. You don’t know what that is? Well, I bet if you’ve ever been in a bar in the south, you have seen them, sitting in a jar, right next to the pickled eggs. Pigs feet, yes ma’am. Although this is the meat removed off the pigs’ feet and made into something like a patty. I am an adventurous eater and will try any real food (fake food, not so much), once. I rather enjoyed it. It’s very, very fatty.
For our second dish, I had quail, stuffed with onion confit. It had a light sauce on it and four slices of the most tender potatoes with onions and greens delicately placed on top. I love potatoes and eating a bowlful of them would have been OK with me, but that is not the French way. Tiny bites of this and that, create a meal.
Dan had a baked bream prepared with the right balance of simplicity and flavor. Perhaps better than Alain’s fish, not as good as Kei’s fish. But if we are not splitting hairs and judging for what it is, it was a winner. He also had three homemade, small cannelloni with aubergine (eggplants) and tomato confit dressed with a small amount of greens.
Like the night before, we declined the cheese and dessert. They still brought us the mignardises. Three dainty and baby sized desserts. I snapped a photo to admire and didn’t indulge. Dan couldn’t resist the crème brûlée. There was also a perfect little lemon tart with meringue and a chocolate confection.
A few things to note before we wrap up. At some point in the meal, I had gotten up to use the lavatory. The waiters are so tuned in, one of them was waiting at the bathroom door, holding the door for me. They really make the lady feel special at these restaurants. Helping her off with her coat, placing a little table next to her seat for her to rest her purse, helping her get her coat back on. Talk about service. This is customer service at its peak.
Also, we had inquired about the food a lot during the meal as we have during all of our meals that are on this level. In part, it’s to understand in English what we are eating, but being a cook and foodie, I am also inquiring about technique, sources of ingredients, etc. Dan had asked if we could take a menu home. The waiter went in the back and brought a signed copy and much to our delight, he brought the chef out, to say au revoir to us. Now this was the second time that we have had this honor in five meals and I am just kvelling. Bernard, you are definitely on our radar from this point forward.
After the meal, we walked back to Les Halles and entered. I am sure these markets are somewhat standard by French standards, but for US standards, we really don’t have anything like this, or at least on this scale. There were 60 booths there, although by 2 pm, many were not open. Just as an example, any one particular cheese booth could have four times the cheese selection of the store in Eugene with the best cheese variety. And there were a handful of cheese shops. Love the colored molds, the shapes, the passion from the people behind the counter. Then the meat and fish and charcuterie. Bresse chicken with the heads still on. Rabbit with the fur still on. Fish eyeballs looking every which way. We spotted some men eating oysters, probably a tray with 24 of them. I suggested we come back sometime before we depart Lyon for an oyster lunch. It’s now officially on our ever growing TDL.
Speaking of which, I was playing out in my head, our itinerary for the next few days. Now let it be known, our itinerary was born out of our hundreds of hours of researching books, magazines, and the internet. We broadly cast the net, and then we reeled it in, with what we thought we could reasonably do. Well, things take longer than expected and there never seems to be enough time. Anyway, I was hesitant to suggest, but I mentioned to Dan “Lyon has more than we envisioned; there’s so much great stuff to do here; and we don’t want to show up to Valance totally bedraggled on Friday night. What do you think of skipping out on Parc de Vercors?” “I’m fine with that” he replied and so a wave of relief came over me. Less on the go in the ca, and more leisurely exploring on foot and bicycle.
Well, the bikes came next. We wanted to use the city program that has set up close to 400 bike stations throughout the city. It takes a little bit of figuring, to get in the groove. There’s a machine to futz around with, but if you have enough patience, you will be rewarded and maybe think it’s awesome. We futzed around and cursed the machine a bit and then we got our bikes. I got one and realized the seat was on backwards and it couldn’t be adjusted. So I traded it in and finally we were off!
We biked to the confluence of the Saône and the Rhône. There is a new museum built recently, and it is named The Confluence. We couldn’t decide if we liked or disliked the architecture. I think we decided, we didn’t like it. It’s ugly as heck, but it’s interesting, at least to look at once. With more time in Lyon (like a week), we may have explored the area more, but at this point, a bike ride past it would need to suffice.
We crossed the Saône onto the Rhône, which has a prettier riverside anyway. It was after 5pm and it was a totally vibrant scene. Bikers, joggers, people on scooters, kids playing around. Even groups of college aged kids doing sports practices. We passed by a complex that had two Olympic sized swimming pools. What looked very fun and we made a note to do it, time permitting, would be to go to the barges in the water for some tea or a drink. There are areas, where there are barges lined up end to end, much in the same way that food carts will line up in a pod. Some of the barges were actually hotels, others had gardens on them.
Next we headed up to Croix-Rousse, which is in northern Lyon, way up in the hills. I had read about a park that has a great view of the city for sunset. That was all we needed! Now getting there, in rush hour, on shitty bikes, navigating bridges and tunnels was not all that easy, but we set out anyway. A very nice French man named Greg showed us a safe way to proceed and he walked with us. We said merci beaucoup and then parked the bikes and dashed up a few flights of steps to the Jardin de Public. Not a traditional park in the sense, as it wasn’t a spread out plot of land. But nonetheless, we got a nice piece of park railing to park ourselves at and enjoyed the view, the sunset, the buzz of a new city (new to us). It was after dark by the time we headed home. Fortunately, the bikes had lights that automatically turned on and flashed.
Neither of us were real hungry, plus we had some goodies we brought from Paris (charcuterie and cheese). So we picked up an apple and grapes (black Muscat) at the local market and back at Artelit, we had a very fine charcuterie platter and some warm tea and spirited conversation. And here we sit, blogging and getting caught up with all that we have done and discussing how to craft our next two days, here in Lyon.