Lyon is recognized by many as the gastronomic capital of France. One could argue, therefore, that Lyon could be considered to be the gastronomic capital of the world. The folks here in Lyon would probably go along that. Dinner in Lyon should be good!
The First Foodie City in France
One thing is for certain – food and its preparation are big deals in Lyon. Lyon was the first “foodie” city in France, where chefs, restaurants, and certain dishes became famous the way sports stars are in the US. Lyon’s own Paul Bocuse is the most famous chef in Lyon, and possibly in all of France.
Chefs are so popular in France, I wouldn’t be surprised if kids here trade “Chef Trading Cards” the way kids back home used to trade baseball cards. It would be like kids in the States saying things like, “I’ll trade you a Bobby Flay for two Wolfgang Pucks.” If they had Chef Trading Cards in France, Paul Bocuse would be like Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle combined.
Mr. Bocuse has restaurants all over the world, and at least five here in Lyon. One of them isn’t far from our hotel. I read that the one near us is more low-key than the others, and more accessible to normal people like me. I think you need to have your shoes shined and be wearing a tie to get into the others. This one might be a possibility, though.
Dinner in Lyon
Tonight is our first night in Lyon. My beautiful and demure Better Half is still a bit under the weather, so I’m on my own for dinner. After doing some homework, I came up with a few options. The easiest was to head back to “restaurant row”, where we had passed earlier today. Any restaurant in that area would probably be pretty good. I also had the option of trying the Paul Bocuse restaurant that was nearby.
I had one more option. When I was looking at a local paper I’d picked up today, I’d seen an article where the chef/owner of a restaurant had recently been voted “Best Chef of Traditional Lyonnaise Cooking of the Year.” It turned out that his restaurant was kind of far away, but still within walking distance. It would be a pretty good hike, though.
I decided my plan would be to head to the Paul Bocuse restaurant first, since it was the closest to the hotel. If I liked the looks of it, I’d have dinner there. If not, I’d decide at that point whether to go to restaurant row, which was also close by, or to the traditional Lyonnaise award-winning restaurant, which was quite a hike in the opposite direction. I didn’t have dinner reservations anywhere. I was hoping I could get in wherever I wanted since it was just me, myself, and I.
The Quest for Dinner
With my recovering patient nicely tucked in, I set out for restaurant #1. One look at the place and I knew this wasn’t the spot for me. This was supposed to be the most casual of Mr. Bocuse’s restaurants in Lyon, but it still looked pretty stuffy and pretentious to me.
I felt like a lowly serf peering in through the glass to see what the lords and ladies might be eatin’ fur supper this evenin’. If this was his casual restaurant, I can’t even imagine what the others are like.
This meant that it was decision time. Of course I decided to go to the place that required quite a hike to get there. Was there ever even any question? No point in taking the easy route, eh? Besides, I think I was hooked after I read the article about those down-home Lyonnaise specialties.
So off I went, map in hand, in the general direction of the restaurant. It wasn’t long before I was out of our neighborhood and apparently somewhat off the beaten path, too. The area I was walking in was getting darker and darker. It was a dark night anyway, since some pretty big clouds had been moving in.
I passed enough other normal-looking people walking on the streets who didn’t seem concerned, so I pressed on. When I stopped to check the map, I determined that I had indeed been going in the right direction, but I also discovered that the place was actually quite a bit further than I had expected. But I was more than halfway there, so there was no point in turning back now.
On the way to the restaurant I passed a street that I remembered from the map, because it was the street that the Ampere Museum of Electricity was on. Units of electric current – “amps” — are named after Monsieur Ampere. Can you imagine how neat it would be to go there? Well, SOME people think it would be pretty neat.
Found it!
But there was no time for that now. I still had a ways to go to get to the restaurant. The farther I went, the darker the surroundings became. Then I felt something make a little tap on my head. Was that a rain drop? It was. Oh well. Onward!
Shortly after it started to rain, I turned a corner and I could see the restaurant at the corner of the next block. I knew it was the one because I recognized it from the pictures in the article. It looked like a cozy little place to get into and out of the rain. Now all I had to do was get a table.
I stepped inside. Whoa. The place was jam-packed. My prospects didn’t look good. A rather stern-looking lady greeted me. I informed her in the best français I could muster that I didn’t have a reservation, but it was just little ol’ me and it sure would be nice if she had a table available.
She gave me a once-over and a “you’re not from around here, are you?” look. Then she disappeared through a door, hopefully to go see if there was a table available. That was my hope, anyway. For all I knew she’d just remembered that she’d forgotten to feed the cat, and she had gone to take care of it.
To be continued…
