Today was a particularly exciting day for me, as I was finally going to make it to Paul Bocuse's flagship for lunch. Paul Bocuse, arguably the most revered living French chef, needs very little introduction; as the grandfather of modern French gastronomy, he has been mentor to almost every important chef in France and beyond today. He has also cooked for numerous past French presidents, and is the founder of the prestigious biennial Bocuse d'Or international competition, the culinary equivalent of the Olympic Games. Most recently in 2011, he was awarded 'Chef of the Century' by the American Culinary Institute. The restaurant itself has held 3 Michelin stars since 1965, the longest period for any restaurant in modern culinary history.
I caught an early TGV from Paris to Lyon, and then took a taxi from the train station. The restaurant is actually located in a quiet suburb Collonges along the river Saône, about 20 minutes' drive away from Lyon. Each way will cost you about €20-€30 depending on traffic conditions in Lyon's city centre. (If driving yourself, look out for the bridge 'Pont Paul Bocuse' nearest to the restaurant.)
Actually, it is almost impossible to miss the restaurant's building, with its somewhat garish colours and the large 'Paul Bocuse' sign. The excitement mounted as my taxi pulled into the carpark just in time for a noon reservation; would Monsieur Bocuse himself be at the door welcoming guests, as many other reviewers have mentioned?
Alas, my hopes were not to be met. I was only received by my server for the day Christophe, who to be sure was very professional and efficient. The hurdy-gurdy player whom I've read about was also not present. I asked Christophe if Bocuse would be greeting guests at some point during the lunch service, to which he could only say that he was not sure. Bocuse still lives upstairs - this isn't just a restaurant but his home as well - but apparently he does not appear as frequently now as he used to in front of customers, because of his age. That was my first disappointment, as I had travelled all this way hoping to meet him (and a meal here really isn't cheap plus travelling costs), but I suppose I should be a little more understanding. I was still looking forward to sampling the food itself.
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| At the doors of the culinary temple! |
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| A mini 'Walk of Fame' listing all the famous chefs who have worked here at some point in their career. |
I was shown to a table by the window in the main dining room with a good view, which was lovely, as I have read on other online reviews that foreign (English-speaking) guests are often 'banished' to a small attic-like room at the back on the restaurant, on the first floor. Thankfully, I had corresponded with the staff so far in French, and so was accorded the 'privilege' of sitting in this large and opulent space. It remained quiet and peaceful throughout this afternoon, perhaps not too surprising for a weekday lunch.
The ambience is elegant and somewhat museum-like, with thick upholstery on chairs, ornately carved furniture displays, paintings and old photographs hanging on pink wallpaper with geometric designs, and a gift shop at the back of the building, on the way to the toilets. The only thing I found rather tacky and distracting was how every piece of crockery and wine glass had Bocuse's name imprinted on them - we are not in a theme park after all so surely there's no need to remind customers at every turn! Service is extremely formal, in keeping with the restaurant's motto to preserve fine-dining in all respects as it would have been in the 1960s; all the staff here are unashamed guardians of French gastronomic tradition. Indeed, one gets the impression when coming in that this is an institution in the truest sense of the word, where very little has changed for half a century. If you are seeking an authentic old-world experience, this would be the place for you.
Although Bocuse did not appear at all this afternoon, his wife did come round to every table soon after I sat down, to wish guests 'bon appétit'. I also received a copy of today's menu pre-signed by Bocuse.
I had previously decided on the biggest 'Grand Tradition' tasting menu, featuring all the Bocuse signatures, with wine pairings (which you have to pre-order, for some reason - not available on the day itself). A brief glance at my copy revealed a slight problem; I had asked to substitute the cheese course with another dish as I'm not really into the former, but now I realised that the cheese had simply been taken off without giving me a replacement. Fortunately, upon clarification with Christophe he assured me that I would be served the usual number of courses, and he also allowed me to choose whatever I wanted as the substitution. It was nice of him, but this matter of shortchanging customers should not have happened in a restaurant of this level in the first place. Thank goodness I checked!
A champagne apéritif was served shortly after the menu was confirmed, then bread and butter came. I forget what the champagne was but it was rather crisp and dry - a pretty effective way to freshen up the palate before the actual food arrived.
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| Bread and Bordier butter |
Amuse-bouche: chilled tomato cream soup with fresh truffled cream, tomato coulis and basil oil.
This small cup was absolutely bursting with crisp Mediterranean flavours, and it was also perfect for the hot summer day. The tomato soup was both sweet and tangy, and despite the addition of cream for additional smoothness, its core texture remained very light. Drops of basil oil prettily dotting the surface also kept things in check with fresh and sweet anise-like aromas. Having said that, I still welcomed the extra dollop of lightly truffled cream, which contributed both a richer mouthfeel and a deep earthy dimension to each spoonful. All in all, this was a refreshing and sophisticated way to kick-start the palate.
First course: pan-fried escalope of duck foie gras on a bed of baked polenta, with roasted apples and white grapes in a verjus sauce, topped with a potato gaufrette.
Wine pairing: 2011 François Villard, Condrieu Le Grand Vallon (Rhône Valley).
Gastronomic opulence began right here. The foie gras had a lovely musky flavour, though in terms of texture I found the caramelised seared surfaces not quite as crisp as I would have liked it to be, and I also felt that it was slightly overcooked, as the fat within had started to disintegrate leading to a slightly 'loose' structure and greasy (not creamy) mouthfeel. (The foie gras I had at Le Meurice a few months earlier remains unparalleled.) The accompaniments were truly excellent though; the baked polenta remained soft and spongy despite all the sauce and grease surrounding it, the roasted fruits were soft and juicy with a deep caramelised flavour, and the potato gaufrette was extremely crisp and light. Thick verjus sauce kept the indulgence in check (somewhat) with an essential tartness.
The wine pairing, a lovely medium-yellow 2011 Condrieu, is probably northern Rhône's most characteristic white wine, made entirely from the Viognier grape grown in extremely limited quantities, and in only seven parishes within a nine-mile stretch of the Rhône Valley (this particular wine used grapes mainly from St-Pierre de Boeuf). The delicate and sweet nose, with hints of citrus and vanilla, belied a substantial body with strong hints of bananas and roasted apples, and a touch of spice. The finish was long and well-rounded. This wine was indeed a perfect fit for the food, with its bold, sweet and tart flavours.
Second course: Black truffle soup V.G.E.
Wine pairing: unknown 2011 Chablis (please enlighten me in the 'Comments' section if you recognise the label from the photograph of the wine flight towards the end of this post).
This is the restaurant's legendary soup, created by Bocuse in 1975 for then-president Valéry Giscard d’Estaing (hence the V.G.E. abbreviation), on the occasion of the chef being bestowed the title of Chevalier de la légion d'honneur (the French equivalent of British knighthood). The soup's presentation with its distinctive puff pastry top has definitely spawned countless cheaper imitations since then!
I was gently reminded not to touch the bowl as it was very hot. First impressions: enticing rich buttery aromas from the puff pastry. Breaking through the delicate and flaky top layer revealed an even more incredibly opulent soup, made with beef consommé and diced root vegetables, and further filled to the brim with chunks of foie gras and slices of black truffles. I have to say, I have never seen a denser and heavier soup; in fact I thought it was rather needlessly over-the-top - but perhaps that was the whole point, considering the pomp and circumstance of the occasion for which it was created!
The beef consommé base was very good indeed - clear and pure with rich natural flavours and aromas. The diced root vegetables were sweet and juicy, and provided a lovely bite with each spoonful. Foie gras imparted its typical intense musky flavour, but perhaps dumping it into a soup isn't the best way to fully appreciate its possible textural subtleties - it just becomes really lumpy and greasy - and besides, having already had foie gras in the previous course, this felt like a bit of an overkill. What I found truly bewildering though were the black truffles; despite their apparently generous amount (50 grams to be exact) I could not detect even a whiff of their characteristic earthy aroma after breaking through the puff pastry. What I ended up with were merely chewy cardboard-like pieces - everyone knows that the point of truffles is in their aroma and that their texture can be rather unappealing. Actually, I was pretty surprised that black truffles could be had at this time of the year, and part of me suspects that that was the problem - these simply weren't at their seasonal best. I found it somewhat puzzling that a top restaurant like this doesn't take the issue of seasonality more seriously, even if a few of their dishes have gained somewhat of a cult status.
In that context, then, I was actually quite grateful for the young Chablis wine pairing, whose specifics I have forgotten, but I do remember its freshness, dryness and intense acidity, which cut through the rather overwhelming flavours and greasy texture of the soup very effectively.
Third course: red mullet in crispy potato 'scales'.
Wine pairing: again I don't remember the winemaker's specifics but I do recall Christophe mentioning that it is a very local wine produced in a village about only 44 km from Lyon.
This was the substitution I had requested in place of my cheese course, and unfortunately also where things started going downhill for my stomach. By now I had been through two foie gras dishes and three glasses of wine, and this lethal combination of grease and alcohol early on in the day was starting to wreak havoc on my system. Nonetheless I soldiered on, not wanting to waste my food and my money.
To be fair, this was a really good dish. The execution and presentation were flawlessly exquisite. The mullet was really soft and moist, while the artfully arranged potato discs on top of the fillet (to represent its scales) were remarkably light and crisp, providing a delightful contrast of textures with each mouthful. The delicate taste of the fish was suitably enhanced by a pool of cream sauce laced beautifully with an intense sweet-savoury demi-glace. In accordance with good old French culinary style, the sauce is rich and abundant by today's standards, and I really took care not to lap it all up (even though I do love my gravy and all), for the sake of my stomach as well as not to drown out the natural flavour of the fish. The wine pairing was apt though not particularly memorable, and I must confess that by this point both my palate and stomach were already feeling pretty overwhelmed. I must have ingested about a week's worth of fat. I also left about half the glass of wine untouched as I was starting to get palpitations and nausea. This must be the first time I've felt like this in a wine pairing menu, and it definitely wasn't a good sign.
Fourth course: sole fillet on noodles, in the style of Fernand Point.
Wine pairing: 2010 Domaine Fouassier, Sancerre Les Chasseignes (Loire Valley).
Just when I thought things could not get more relentless, now came an even heavier and creamier course filled to the rim of the plate with sauce! How would I do this, I wondered!
This dish is a tribute to the late Fernand Point, founder of the famous La Pyramide restaurant in Lyon (still extant but not in the same family now), at which Bocuse had been a young apprentice. A fillet of sole is placed on a bed of tagliatelle with some chopped button mushrooms and tomatoes, then drenched in a buttery cream sauce and grilled briefly under a salamander for a nicely brûléed surface. Again, to be honest, the sole's firm and succulent texture was really lovely, and the tagliatelle had a nice al dente bite too, but the delicate flavours of both had been all but drowned out by the surrounding ocean of sauce. I could taste nothing else but butter and cream - which should have been so fragrant and delightful, but at this point my arteries were crying out for some plain salad.
Although I was also terribly flushed now, the wine pairing was probably one of the better things here. I had a few sips of this golden yellow liquid, which revealed fresh and clean citrus aromas, with surprising bodily depth featuring exhuberant notes of ripe passion fruit and grapefruit, and hints of freshly cut grass. The finish was expansive and well-rounded, perfect for more robust fish dishes. The grapes (Sauvignon) are sourced from a certified organic single-estate vineyard west of the village of Sancerre in the Loire Valley, fermented in stainless steel at a constant cool temperature to maintain the freshness of the fruit, yet aged on the lees for several months to add complexity.
Does anyone actually eat all of this tasting menu, I asked Christophe after setting down my cutlery... to which he replied, 'mais oui, c'est copieuse mais c'est la tradition bourgeoisie' - little wonder then that people had lower life expectancies in the past... I am no stranger to copious amounts of food and wine but this was too much for me. Afraid of wasting food and coming across as insulting the kitchen, but physically unable to cope, I had finished about two-thirds of it, left most of the wine untouched, and requested a long break before continuing - for the very first time in my life I was actually dreading the prospect of having two more courses to go! I actually feared getting sick at my table so I made my way quickly to the toilet, where I must have stayed for at least 20 minutes in a cubicle feeling very ill, and desperately trying to 'cool off' the alcohol. Another 10 minutes later, back in my seat (somehow) and still feeling a bit nauseated (but better than before) I decided to continue.
Palate cleanser: Beaujolais granité with crème de cassis.
More alcohol. The actual Beaujolais wine must have paled in comparison to this smooth icy ball, which had an incredibly concentrated flavour, low in tannins and high in acidity. It would have been very light and refreshing if not for its strong alcoholic bent, reinforced by a sweeter and equally powerful blackcurrant liqueur. This was small enough to get through but once again I felt the nausea and palpitations returning, and it would be another good 15 minutes before I was ready to continue.
Fifth course: fricassé of truffled Bresse chicken, with morels and a vin jaune cream sauce.
Wine pairing: 2010 Domaine de Christophe Semaska, Côte Rôtie Château de Montlys (Northern Rhône).
Following good old French tradition, all the different components of the main course were brought to my table on a trolley, and plated in front of me by maître d' Jean-Philippe. It is always interesting to watch how precise and efficient the servers are in this matter. There was no way I could even eat half of this now, but at least I did take all the morels (the good and expensive stuff!). Seasonality was again an issue as morels are typically a spring fungus, so I wasn't sure if these were fresh, or dried/frozen and reconstituted when needed. Honestly, it was difficult to tell after having been cooked in all that cream, but at least these still had a reasonably firm and crunchy bite as well as their characteristic earthy aroma and taste. The Bresse chicken was, however, disappointingly dry and tasteless even after having been cooked with truffles and then soaked in cream sauce for each mouthful. I took about a third of it, together with one spoonful each of buttered rice and vegetables. Christophe, perhaps understanding that I was truly defeated by this point, managed a sympathetic smile as I put down my cutlery and requested for the rest to be removed.
The wine was truly stellar, even though I managed just three sips of it. Made from 100% Syrah grapes, this was a classic full-bodied red wine with a floral nose, notes of raspberry and black olives, and hints of spices including vanilla. Perfect for meat dishes, the pairing would have been even more effective if much less cream were used in cooking, since this overwhelms the palate and inevitably drowns out the complexity of the wine. I would have finished this luscious nectar if I could.
The final part of the meal, desserts, would have been a truly unforgettable experience if I had had the stomach space for it. In accordance with traditional French fine-dining customs, you get to choose as much as you want from an impressive array of desserts spread out over a few trolleys parked around your table. Yes, you read that right - a dessert buffet right after all that food.
But first, a couple of 'small' bites - here was a dark chocolate pot de crème. This classic French custard dessert was extremely rich, and I thought I wouldn't make it but it was so good that I did finish it all! At the very least, this was a real departure from all the creamy and buttery stuff of the preceding courses.
Then came two layers of mignardises, including petit fours made in-house as well as chocolates from the famous Lyonnais chocolatier Bernachon, with whom Bocuse had worked in 1975 to create a special cake, which you will see later. They looked too good to waste so I asked Christophe to put them all into a take-away box.
A final glass of wine was served just before the dessert trolleys were pushed over. This was a 2010 Domaine des Forges, Coteaux du Layon Chaume, from the Loire Valley, a lush and elegant chenin blanc with firm acidity and a very crisp finish. It would have been great for seeing the desserts through, but it was a real shame that I could only have a sip or two before I thought I would get sick.
This was the moment I really kicked myself on the inside for having ordered such a large and heavy tasting menu, leaving neither room nor mood for desserts. Honestly in hindsight, I would return to this restaurant just for them. Now, I could only look at all these mouthwatering desserts while clutching my stomach, and although I'm pretty sure they would have obliged me if I asked for a take-away of one piece of each, I was too ill and embarrassed to do so.
There must have been well over 20 choices including numerous sorbets, ice-creams and fresh fruit, in addition to all manner of cakes and pastries, spread over 4 trolleys. I photographed the ones that particularly caught my eye:
Oeufs à la neige in the style of Bocuse's grandmother and rum baba, both very classic French desserts.
Raspberry tart and Fraisier (French strawberry shortcake), both chock-full with luscious red fruit.
Crème brûlée à la cassonade Sirio (the surface uses a dark brown sugar derived from sugarcane or beetroot, similar in taste to palm sugar) and pear and almond frangipane tart.
Two very prominent cakes: the Gâteau 'Président' Maurice Bernachon (the aforementioned special cake of cherry and chocolat praliné génoise, created by Bocuse and Bernachon in 1975 on the occasion of the former receiving his Chevalier title from then-president Valéry Giscard d’Estaing) and Ambassadeur (a rectangular cake consisting of layers of génoise soaked in kirsch sandwiching a layer of custard filled with candied fruit, with the whole being further encased in a thin layer of green marzipan). The President cake was probably the most beautiful and elaborate chocolate cake I'd ever seen - how do they make that frilly top?!
These were what I actually had: raspberry sorbet and poached pear. At this point I could only think of having something really light and refreshing, and the raspberry sorbet hit all the right notes with its tartness; I actually started feeling better. I couldn't quite say the same of the poached pear, which I had assumed would be merely soft, sweet and juicy, and I got much more than I asked for: a whole fruit soaked in some really strong fruit liqueur, i.e. more alcohol. The headaches returned. Gah.
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| Chamomile tea instead of coffee, to calm the system. |
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| Wine flight (not in order of courses) |
Just before I left, I made one last trip to the washroom and to take final pictures of the restaurant, including the kitchen. The chefs were already preparing for the dinner service, so I was not allowed to go into the busy kitchen, but I did manage a comment to one of them on how heavy the food had been, and quite predictably he replied, 'Oui, chez nous, c'est une cuisine copieuse...'. Whether you love or hate that obsessive single-mindedness, they are certainly not apologetic about cooking in the old-fashioned way that they do here.
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| Gift shop |
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| Inner dining room |
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| Lounge area |
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| Christophe |
It was nearly 5 pm when I left. I definitely wasn't expecting to stay so long, and I usually feel really bad if the servers don't get a break between lunch and dinner service because of my lingering, but as you know by now there were physical issues beyond my control. As I write this from my hotel room in Paris I have skipped dinner and I am still somewhat bloated after 7 hours - think lunch tomorrow might not be necessary! Anyway, I do have Christophe to thank in particular for his incredible patience and understanding.
Some tips if you're thinking of visiting: do not go for the biggest tasting menu (there are smaller ones, or just do à la carte), don't bother with wine pairings (one or two good glasses is alright though I think), and don't make the mistake like I did of trying to finish all your food in the earlier courses, sauces and all. I say this as a person who hates wasting food, but you will regret it if you do not leave enough stomach space to try all those mouthwatering desserts. The portions are HUGE and heavy - take it from someone who has been through not an insignificant number of tasting menus and wine pairings.
Would I visit again? Probably, if only for the honour of having a picture with Monsieur Bocuse. Do remember that the cuisine will probably not be to everyone's taste, and I can't honestly say that I enjoyed today's lunch entirely. My own gut feeling is that the restaurant has become a victim of its own illustrious history; if not for Bocuse (and based on my own experiences elsewhere) it would have been quite difficult to maintain 3 stars for so long in such a highly competitive industry. Tradition does not have to mean stagnation.
Still, as a sort of pilgrimage site for foodies, and for the unique old-world experience that this restaurant offers, it is worth at least one visit in your lifetime, especially if the name Paul Bocuse means anything to you.
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