I simply could not go to Lyon without eating at Paul Bocuse's infamous namesake restaurant. It just would not have been right. Now, I'm fairly sure the restaurant doesn't get tables for just one all that often, considering it's a multiple hour experience. Call me crazy, but I get the vibe from most people that they are not so keen on dining alone in general and certainly not for that amount of time. I, on the other hand, have no problem dining alone. Dining solo from time to time is pretty much par for the course when you pick up and move to another country leaving behind loved ones. Don't get me wrong, it is not my favorite thing to do, but I do it without reservation (no pun intended) all the time.
My first night in Lyon, despite feeling a bit under the weather, I got all dressed up, hopped in a taxi and headed to Paul Bocuse. The restaurant is just outside of Lyon and the roads to get there are a bit serpentine. Upon arrival I was feeling less than stellar, but I didn't care if I spent the next week in a hospital bed, I was eating at Paul Bocuse. So, I sucked it up, put on a smile and walked into what was the most amazing dining experience I have ever had. From the doorman to the waiters to the chefs, the service was top notch. The way they treat their customers and how they present their food is impeccable. Plus, I wasn't once bored as I had an excellent view of waiter after waiter leaving the kitchen with huge silver trays carried high in the air destined to make someone a very happy person. As the waiters rushed by, I got a preview of what was to come, the air filled with intoxicating smells of culinary perfection. Oh, the food, (Insert a deeply satisfied sigh) it was heavenly. Flavored perfectly. Every single bite melting with pleasure in my mouth (no doubt due to the liberal amounts of butter used). In short, my visit to Paul Bocuse was something as a food lover you only dare to dream about - sheer perfection.
I had no idea the restaurant's facade would look anything like this. Nor was I prepared for the elaborately dressed door man.
My table. Note not only the gorgeous china, but also the menu and the wine list. The latter being the rather large, phone book sized one. I must admit it was a bit intimidating, so I wimped out and just went with champagne. You can never go wrong with that, especially when their "house" champagne is Veuve Cliquot.
I was brought this little stool on which to place my purse. Even my bag had a seat!
The amuse bouche: velouté de petits pois avec une quenelle de creme. Pea soup with a cream quenelle. Yes, someone actually was able to create a quenelle out of cream that actually lasted a while on top of the soup.
The butter plate.
This will give you an idea of how the food was brought to the table. As I mentioned, a waiter would carry the very large silver tray you see in the background and set it on a designated table next to yours. This was the staging area for presenting options or plating the dish.
My first course: ecrivesses au gratin. A crawfish gratin. How can I pass that up when I am missing out on crawfish season back home?
My second course was plated on the staging table. I watched with anticipation as they put together this:
Chicken in a sinfully delicious cream sauce, with morels, spinach and the best damn rice I have ever eaten in my life. I think it needs not a French translation.
Next came the cheese course. They brought out two tables to present all the different types of cheese on offer. First came fromage blanc and blue cheeses.
Next a vertitable cheese shop of choices.
I was trying to show restraint and thus only chose two. The charolais goat cheese was simply divine. I will seek it out from now on wherever I am in France and will undoubtedly dream of when I am back in the states.
After the cheese came pre-dessert. Yep. PRE dessert. That would include a tray of chocolates, macarons and pate de fruits along with a crepe suzette. Indulgent much, Chef Bocuse?
Then, when it was time for what I like to call prime-time dessert, I was brought none other than FOUR trays from which to choose. There were fresh berries and various sauces.
Multiple cakes and pastries.
Ile flottante, baba rhum, and creme brulée.
Plus a plethora of homemade ice cream/sorbet.
I chose the homemade vanilla ice cream with raspberries and strawberries accompanied with a red berry sauce and creme anglaise. It. Was. Awesome.
And then, to top everything off, I got to go into the kitchen, look around and take a picture with the head chefs (notice the MOF on the left). Maybe it was a good thing Chef Bocuse was dining with the local government that night or I might have never left. Of course if that were the case, they would have had to put me to work because after that meal my pocketbook was significantly lighter.
Paul Bocuse
L'Auberge du Pont de Collonges
40 Rue de la Plage
Collonges au Mont d'Or
04 72 42 90 90
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