Dinner in a Bouchon

*This is the second of a four-part series on my trip to Lyon.

So how much did you like Lyon from my last post? Well hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen, because I’m about to knock your socks off (it seems these idioms don’t really reconcile, but you get the idea).

Lyonnaise cuisine is some of the best in the world. Hence my motivation for going. You might say I made a pilgrimage to Lyon. You might be right.

Whatever the case, I knew I wanted to go to a bouchon while in Lyon. What is a bouchon? I’m glad you asked.

The origin of the name is still debated, but many believe that it comes from an old French word meaning "a bunch of twisted straw." Apparently, someone though it would be a good idea to put a picture of a bouchon (twisted straw) on restaurant signs to designate them as such. That’s logical, right? By relation, the restaurants were called bouchons.

I’m not so sure I really care about the origin of the word. The fact of the matter is that bouchons are unique to Lyon and they serve delicious lyonnaise food. What’s that? Relative to other French cuisine (and any cuisine for that matter), the dishes at a bouchon are heavily meat oriented and fatty. More specifically, they specialize in offal (animal organs). Duck livers are big, as is anything in a pig that you can chew. Say what you want, but these bouchons create delicious food out of what is normally wasted. I think it’s noble. And delicious.

But a bouchon is not only about the food. Not at all. A bouchon is about the atmosphere. Tiny restaurants with décor that takes you back to the 1950’s and friendly service. That is what it’s all about.

I’m hungry. What are we waiting for?

We chose La Meunière, a cute little bouchon on a quite side street off the main road (i.e. the one with the Starbuck's) of the peninsula. It was listed as good in many a guidebook and website I read. Also, it was open on Saturday. Sounds good to me. We made a reservation for 8PM (that’s when it opens). And it is a good thing we did. A family walked in at 8:15 and was turned away. I suppose a full restaurant is a good restaurant.

And the décor? Not modern, that’s for sure.

The paint on the walls was chipped. There were posters that dated back a few decades. The lighting was pretty rustic. This place had character.

And right in the middle of the restaurant was a table with the desserts du jour, cheese plates, and some sausage. Just right there.

So lets sit down.

WARNING: The squeamish (and vegetarians) may find the next few pictures unsettling. This is the second time I’ve had to put this warning up over the course of this blog. I love France.

Waiting for us at the table was a giant bowl of something. Have a look for yourself.

Before indulging, we waited to ask what it was. Grattons. Literal translation: deep-fried pig fat. Loose translation: delicious. They were a little bit salty and really smooth going down. Not a bad way to start a meal.

Traditionally, bouchons serve “pots” of local wine (I’d say about half a bottle’s worth). I wasn’t in the mood for wine, but my tablemates indulged in a bottle of a local red. It made their cheeks turn a similar color.

So we ordered. I got the menu. Three courses (with a dessert option for 2 extra euro).

Course 1: Cow snout (muzzle) with lintels. This is what I was served.

It took us about five minutes to realize that this bouchon serves its food family style: take as much as you want from a giant bowl and when you are done, we’ll give it to someone else in the restaurant who ordered it. No kidding.

How did it taste? Great! The snout of a cow tastes just like, well, cow. It had a nice vinegary tang to it. And the beans were delicious! In some sort of sauce, they were almost peppery. The combination of the two was superb.

And my neighbor happened to get the “Salad of beef with lintels.” I tried a bit:

This one had what tasted like a mustard sauce on it. Equally delicious.

Now Course 2: Tripe (stomach) à la Lyonnaise.

A mixture of cooked stomach (likely cow’s stomach but I’m not so sure of the animal) and onions with spices and herbs. It was served with a giant bottle of malted vinegar. Know that this dish was a bit of a gamble for me. The verdict: delicious. The first bite, I wasn’t so sure. I though I tasted the smell of a stable with lots of animals (i.e. manure). The more I ate, the less I felt this way. The taste was surprisingly mild. Paired with the vinegar, it tasted pretty darn good. It was also served with some macaroni and cheese.

It was good.

If I went back to this bouchon, I’m not sure I would order the tripe again. I’m really glad I tried it, and I didn’t dislike it at all. But I didn’t LOVE it either.

At this point, I’ve had two courses of all you can eat meat plus an appetizer of fried fat. I’m feeling a little full. But there is a third course, cheese.

Course 3: Cervelle de canut.

Literally translated, this means canut brains. Here is the picture.

In reality, there are no brains involved. It is actually an immensely delicious mixture of fromage blanc, shallots, vinegar, olive oil, and some sort of herb. It was tangy and savory and satisfying.

My friend (the same one with the beef salad above) got the cheese plate. This is what they gave her:

They don’t fool around here.

After that unreasonably large meal, I just didn’t have it in me for dessert. That doesn’t happen very much in France. What a nice change of pace.

And that was my bouchon experience. It was a good one. We got there at eight (not a minute earlier – we actually got there around 7:45, despite my insistence not to, and were turned away) and left at around eleven. There is no turnaround at this restaurant. When you are there, you are there for the evening, and that’s that.

This all happened Saturday night. I haven’t eaten meat since, and I don’t feel I will for another week or so. But I’m not complaining. I’m not complaining at all.