Good Things I've Eaten: Entry #2 (French Edition)

Our class just spent the last week in France on a study trip. Although it is easy to make fun of their silly accents, high taxes, penchant for clothing with horizontal blue stripes, rampant cigarette smoking, and funny hats, their food has to be taken seriously. Below I've listed only the best and most memorable food and wine experiences of the week:



1. Bresse Chicken, Montrevel-en-Bresse When the farmer took us to the pastures where he raises these chickens, I think we all felt a slight pang of jealousy for their lifestyle. Each bird has fifteen square meters of verdant pasture to himself. They spend their lifetime frolicking on the carpet of green, native grasses, eating locally grown corn, milk, and insects. They hang out, they look for worms, they exercise, and they soak up the warm sun and fresh air of the French countryside. Towards the end, they spend a week in a warm, dark room to relax and fatten up for their big day.
For lunch, the farmer served the chicken simply roasted, with only a touch of salt and pepper and the roasting juices as a sauce. These birds have a clean, satisfying flavor that is hard to describe. They taste how a chicken is supposed to taste, and every morsel carries this essential, pure chicken flavor. This, the simplest meal of the trip, easily reigns as the most memorable and satisfying.



2. Perfect Salads One thing France definitely has on Italy is its salads. While French food seems to lean heavily towards butter, animal proteins, and duck fat, they offer fresh, crisp salads as a counterpoint. Fresh lettuces, maybe tomatoes or carrots, and the bright, tangy Dijon mustard vinaigrette and nothing more. Simple, refreshing, satisfying, the salads in France are done right.



3. Chablis Terroir: the term gets thrown around quite a lot nowadays and the concept of "terroir" seems mysterious and complex like most fancy French words. But when it comes to wine, terroir means one thing: soil-driven. In Chablis, we tasted at two different wineries with slightly different approaches, but each house had the same goal. They want their wines to showcase the unique, mineral-rich soils of the region. The first winery produces single vineyard/appelation, unoaked Chablis. Crisp, clean, mouthwatering, although they use the same varietal (all Chablis is Chardonnay), these wines are a far cry from the California Chardonnay I'm used to. The second winery (actually a large co-op of growers with a centralized wine-making operation) uses some oak in their Chablis, only because they feel the oak helps bring out the minerality by softening the green, fruity flavors. Again, these wines were, crisp, clean, and delicious. The man leading the tasting couldn't emphasize enough the importance of minerality. Chablis should taste like the minerals in the soil. After tasting more than ten Chablis, I think we got his point.

4. Steak Tartare, Brassiere George, Lyon The restaurant was big (Huge actually. I'd guess 500 seats), bustling, old-school, and very, very French. The lighting was retro. The waiters wore bow ties and black vests. The menu was big and full of classic French food: all the best dishes that got exported to bistro menus in the United States, served in one place and done right. Escargot, Steak Frittes, Cassoulet, etc... My decision was easy. I had to have the Steak Tartare, which they still prepare tableside. The waiter brings the freshly chopped meat, an egg yolk, tobasco, mustard, capers, onions, and salt and pepper, asks you how spicy you want it, and then mixes it all up and plates it right on the spot, with an air of cool, professional indifference. The tartare was seasoned perfectly and served with fries and salad. I couldn't have been happier.