I’m on my way to dinner in the foodie capital of France: Lyon. I picked a restaurant that specializes in “classique Lyonnaise cuisine. It was quite a hike to get to, but I’ve made it. I’m just inside the front door, hoping they’ll be able to find a place to squeeze me in.
But First One Has to Get In
The lady who greeted me had disappeared to go see what she could come up with. She came back with good news. I was in! I followed her through a maze of tables full of people eating in one room, then through a passageway into a second room full of people contentedly eating away. The trail ended at what appeared to be the only empty table in the place.
The restaurant was warm, comfortable, and homey inside. It smelled so good in there. The décor was rustic and low-key. If I had to give the style of the décor a name, I’d call it “old French farmhouse.” It was the ideal place to go into to get out of the rain.
A waiter showed up in no time with a menu. The menu had all the things I’d read about that were “classique Lyonnaise” dishes. I ordered two of them: “Salade Lyonnaise” to start, and a “Quenelle” for the “plat principal.” — And some vino, of course.
Two seconds later the vino showed up, some water, and a basket of bread. Now I could settle in and relax.
The place was packed, but as usual in France, everyone talked quietly and respected each others’ space, so even though there was a lot of activity going on, it was peaceful and relaxing at the same time. It wasn’t relaxing for the servers working there, though. They were on the move.
Salade Lyonnaise
After awhile, my salade lyonnaise showed up. It came in its own thick wooden bowl, along with a separate empty bowl to fill yourself as you went along. It looked incredible. Oh boy… this was going to be good.
Salade lyonnaise has greens, a vinaigrette dressing, bacon, and an egg in it, so it’s like having a salad and breakfast combined. To make it, first you have to get some bacon – either thick-slice bacon or just a hunk of bacon that you cut up yourself. Cut it up into pieces that are at least as thick as a pencil and maybe an inch long. Then fry it up so it’s crisp and “bacony”, but also so that it still has some “chew” to it. (That’s why it has to be kind of thick to begin with).
When your bacon is ready, make a vinaigrette by whisking together some wine vinegar, some Dijon mustard, maybe a pinch of sugar or honey, salt and pepper, maybe some diced up garlic or shallot, and some olive oil. For the greens, they usually use “frisée”, which is a delicate kind of lettuce that doesn’t get soggy.
For the egg, you should use a chicken egg. (Honh honh!). For cooking the egg, though, you have options. You can go with poached, soft-boiled, hard-boiled – whatever you like.
When you have all that stuff together, toss the greens and the bacon together with the dressing, put the egg on top, and maybe toss on some really good garlicky croutons. Now you’ve got yourself a nice little treat, eh?
There’s probably no need to say that the salade lyonnaise I had that night was amazing. It was filling, too, but I couldn’t get too filled up, because the main course was yet to come. No way I was sending any back, though. I guess I’d just have to expand my stomach for awhile.
La Quenelle
The next course was what is called a “Quenelle.” (Pronounced “ken-NELL”). No American had ever heard of a quenelle until Julia Child came out with her famous french cookbook to show us how the French cook. You still don’t see ‘em around, unless you go into a real frenchy-french restaurant.
I think the reason is that it doesn’t sound that good. A quenelle is made from ground up fish. Now, I don’t know about you, but most folks I know don’t grind up their fish before they eat it. It just doesn’t sound very good.
Here’s How to Make it
Another way to think of a quenelle is that it’s just a big fish dumpling. See… sounds better that way, eh? Anyway, here’s how it’s made… Take some fish. They typically use a tasty fish called “Pike” in this neck of the woods. Smash it up through a fine-mesh sieve or a ricer until it looks like mashed potatoes.
Combine your mashed-up fish with breadcrumbs, eggs, egg yolks, butter, flour, and some cream, then mix it together into kind of a paste. (Well, it’s not quite as simple as that. You have to mix certain things together, then let them rest, then mix in other things and rest again. Everything has to be chilled to just the right temperature during mixing to have them come out right). The paste is called a “panade”, (“pah-NOD”), which sounds much nicer than “paste.”
When everything has been mixed together, poach the panade in water or maybe in some stock. You can make your quenelles big or you can make them small. When they’re done they should be light and airy, like a soufflé, but with a little more heft. They’re usually served with a creamy sauce on top.
When my quenelle showed up, it was pretty obvious which size they chose to make them here – el grande! It looked like a big burrito. I didn’t know how I was going to eat it, but you know what? It went down pretty easily. Oh, man. It was so good, I think I floated up off the chair a little with each bite. I wouldn’t be ordering dessert tonight, that’s for sure.
To be continued…
For more information about this restaurant, see the Travel Notes – Lyon page.
