An Epicurean Tour of the French Provinces

Of all the varied provinces of France, the one which least needs the tub-thumping of press agents and the gaudy adjectives of travel writers is the fabulous strip of Mediterranean shore line which runs between Marseille and Menton. Writers of mystery stories, from E. Phillips Oppenheim on, have built up a glittering picture of the Riviera in the minds of millions. The tabloids have surrounded it with an aura of lush unreality and unattainable romance, just as Hollywood has been glamorized in the minds of French teen-agers. The thousands of G.I.'s who first invaded this coast and later occupied its swank hotels, converted to leave centers, have told the folks back home all about it.

By this time, everyone knows that France bursts into a rainbow of iridescent color when it kisses the cobalt blue of the Mediterranean. We are all prepared for the haunting aroma of lavender and thyme and for the tapestry of fragrance which blankets the hills around perfume-conscious Grasse. We have heard about that incredible climate, balanced by the unchanging temperature of the sea. We are prepared for umbrella pines, dare palms, and gnarled olive trees of timeless ancestry. We expect to see oranges, tangerines, and lemons bursting forth in balustraded gardens. We have a hazy idea what goes on in those casinos and those expensive night clubs, for we've read the Sunday supplements. We have reacted, with the reverse of indifference, to the current Riviera bathing apparel, provided it is displayed on a supremely graceful chassis. In short, there is no need for any spadework, any orientation, in writing about the Azure Coast. The job has been done long ago.

With your consent, therefore, I'll waste not another word on luxury-laden villas or quaint hill towns, but will get right down to the business of this meeting, which is to discuss the fare of the French Mediterranean coast as it is served forth in the winter of 1949-50. This is quite a large order. The number of good restaurants here is positively alarming. The Riviera attracts well-upholstered visitors who, in turn, attract perceptive restaurateurs. The short-has been studded with gastronomic shrines for generations. Within the past five years the question of nourishment has risen from utter desperation to comparative plenty. In the process a few startling changes were inevitable. One must heave a sigh for departed glories and look for new names, for young, ambitious cooks and a fresh generation of hôteliers. A mere month, the span allowed your roving correspondent, is hardly long enough to explore the subject. So, at the very outset, may I point out that this little epicurean pilgrimage is not all-inclusive. It hits many of the high spots, leaving the rest to your own initiative. For those who arc flitting through, these paragraphs may prove sufficient. For winter-long visitors, they are only a beginning. Now that I'm well buttressed with alibis, let us proceed by easy stages along the bejeweled coast.

Marseille

The most cosmopolitan of French cities is our first stop. We choose Marseille not because it is the crossroads of a hundred races or the gateway to the Orient, but because it is the home of one of the world's most celebrated dishes. the divine bouillabaisse, (which rhymes with “Do ya, Bess?”). What reams have been written about this aromatic creation, and what controversy it has caused! There are purists who insist that the real bouillabaisse can be realized only with a precise formula of Mediterranean rockfish, vegetables, herbs, garlic, saffron, and olive oil. To alter this composition by adding langouste, mussels, or crab, for example. is to descend to the depths of culinary anarchy. These exacting gourmets wax lyric about the Mediterranean fish which must grace the perfect bouillabaisse. First and foremost, it is the rascasse which contributes most to the aroma of the dish. Then you must have the firm-fleshed rouget, the “rooster of the sea.” Then the vive, a delicate fish with a thorny hide, and the baudroie, or sea devil, “with an enormous head and a disgraceful body.” Then the roucau, “elegant and agile, with a blue back and green undertones,” and the solemn Saint-Pierre, a fish named after a saint, no less. Finally the whiting, the grondin, the loup de met, and the conger eel must be represented in the sublime melange.

All this is pretty discouraging to the non-Mediterranean enthusiast and to those who think they achieve a pretty good version of bouillabaisse at home. While other loyal gourmets in Marseille admit that shellfish may be added none of them will listen for an instant to the idea that bouillabaisse can be achieved away from the Mediterranean shores. Plenty of skillful cooks in France, England, and America have proved the contrary, bur don't waste your breath trying to convince anyone in Marseille!

One thoughtful critic has simplified the problem of la bouillabaisse by likening it to one's taste in women. Some prefer a chaste Rubens blonde, some covet a not-so-innocent brunette with big black eyes, while others cherish a smoldering redhead whose coppery locks arc laden with lustrous overtones. So it is with bouillabaisse. It can be innocent or sophisticated, depending upon the allure of its perfume, the sensuousness of its spices. With this thought well in mind, your correspondent set gingerly about the business of finding a thoroughly seductive bouillabaisse in Marseille. It wasn't hard to find, because for years my friends have been telling me about the RESTAURANT ISNARD, at 4 rue Thubaneau, a street which parallels the celebrated Cannebière. The bouillabaisse which shared my table at this ancient restaurant turned out to be a perfectly charming courtesan with discreet good taste. A delicate white wine from Cassis added greatly to her appeal. I doubt whether a more flawless interpretation of the dish can be found anywhere. This restaurant has earned an enviable reputation among French epicures, and its traditions have been maintained by the same family since 1820,

If you wander around the Vieux Port, you will find many worthy restaurants, for example, the BRASSERIE DE STRASBOURG at 11 place de la Bourse. another noteworthy shrine of Mediterranean fish. A comfortable, big-city type of place, its menu is cosmopolitan and its prices very fair. They are proud of their grilled rouges here, and justly so. This plump, (inn, pinkish fish is soaked in a marinade of olive oil and lemon juice, grilled slowly, and served on a bed of cooked fennel. A most gratifying dish it is, made the better by the companionship of a cool pinkish bottle of Tavel.

If your stay in Marseille is prolonged, two other restaurants in this neighborhood, among others, merit your attention. One is the RESTAURANT CAMPA, 9 rue Euthymènes, a prosperous, ultramodern place with bar, grillroom, rôtisserie, and all. The cooking is far above the average, and the clientele fascinating to watch and to speculate upon. The other worthwhile alternative is the RESTAURANT GARDANNE, a sympathetic spot decorated in Provençal style. Fish is their pride, too. I think you will find their suprême de sole normande a dish of true distinction.

Cassis

Leaving Marseille, our path leads eastward over the rocky hills to the lovely, unspoiled fishing village of Cassis. This smiling locality has particular significance for the gourmet, for probably the finest red, white, and rosé wines of the Azure Coast come from the valley slopes rising up behind the town. These wines ate just as fresh and appealing and individual as they can be. They have all the virtues of a youthful local wine and seem to taste doubly delicious in their own setting. Except for the name, this wine has nothing in common with the cassis syrup, made from black currants in Dijon, which flavors untold millions of glasses of vermouth cassis in French cafés.

If you are seeking a quiet vacation retreat or just a good luncheon or dinner, there is a harborside hotel in Cassis which has much to offer. It is the HOTEL DES ROCHES BLANCHES, which occupies a pine-covered hillside at the edge of the village. This spot was also considered a strategic stronghold a few years back, and if you look closely you will find a few concrete German pillboxes still in evidence. The hotel has a most attractive terrace and dining salon overlooking the harbor. The cooking, which makes the most of the catch brought in daily by the local fishermen, is delicious and well served. Monsieur Frégier's cellar contains a superb choice of local wines. You should find this a gratifying gastronomic stopover.

Toulon

The heroic part which Toulon played in the recent war will not soon be forgotten. The scars of bombardment are still evident, but they are being effaced slowly. The gaiety and spirit of the people have not been dampened. Toulon isn't the best overnight stop, but you will find an inviting restaurant there called LA POTINIÈRE at 43 bis rue Jean-Jaurès. This is a long-established local favorite, with several famed specialties. You may try their coq au vin, their langouste àl'américaine, or their Toulon version of bouillabaisse (which is supposed to contain potatoes), with confidence and felicity.

Carqueiranne

About eight miles east of Toulon, just before the sunny little seaport of Carqueiranne, is a hillside restaurant called CHEZ JUSTIN, boasting a breath-taking view of the sea. Established in 1935 by Monsieur Justin Duclaud, this restaurant specializes in Mediterranean regional dishes. Justin grills his fish over a hot bed of vine cuttings from the neighboring vineyards, with the resultant aromatic effect that only sarments de vigne can give. He also is noted for his dishes of game in season.

Cavalaire-sur-Mer

Perhaps your cherished dream is a coquettish little restaurant right at the edge of a sandy beach on a sheltered cove surrounded by pine woods. There is such a place along this shore, and it couldn't be nicer. It is in the town of Cavalaire, and is called LE LIDO, Monsieur Gandini, the cordial proprietor, serves his guests many of the famed Provençal dishes, bouillabaisse, bourride, and brandade among them. His regional wines are good, and there are a few rooms to be had. Rut his surpassing feat is the choice of such an idyllic spot for Le Lido.

St. Raphael

I wish that 1 could recommend something besides the view in the picturesque seaport of St. Tropez, a town beloved by artists, writers, and yachtsmen alike. For the present, it is safer to pay the town a passing visit and to reserve your gastronomic plans for LA VOILE D'OR in neighboring St. Raphael. This part of your drive will recall poignant days in August, 1944. The wreckage along the invasion beach west of St. Raphael is a stark and graphic reminder of the intense struggle which took place at (he time of that landing by the Americans. The near-by town of St. Raphael has suffered but little, and all is peaceful as you settle down in the charming Voile d'Or, a chic, thoroughly modern restaurant by the sea, with traditional ideas about fine cooking. The proprietor, Monsieur Saquet, was a pupil of the great Escoffier, so the high quality of his fare is not surprising. Here is an excellent place to try that eminent regional masterpiece. bourride provençale. It is the particular pride of your host.

La Napoulb-Plage

Every gourmet in Cannes knows an extraordinary restaurant on the terrace of the château at La Napoule-Plage. From far and wide along the shore epicures have beaten a path here to the door of LA MÈRE TERRATS. Her fame is widespread and doubtless well deserved. That word “doubtless” creeps in here because her establishment was enjoying its annual closing during my recent trip, and I can only report on hearsay. But her “press” is marvelous. Chez La Mére Terrats appears to be the best gastronomic bet in Cannes or its surroundings. Cannes itself has a dozen places, from the Ambassadeurs to remote, side-street bistros where a banquet or a presentable luncheon can be found. Some of the most agreeable restaurants for the wandering Sybarite string out along the boulevard Jean Hibert facing the plage Midi, the MARJOLAINE being my particular favorite.

Antibes

This old seaport, one of the least spoiled of Riviera towns, offers you two first-rate temples of la gourmandise. One is the TAVERNE PROVENCE, a charming, high-ceilinged spot in the old tradition, located a few steps away from the shaded place du Général de Gaulle. They have a delectable specialty here, côte de veau àla crème, which we recommend with fervor. Unctuous is the word for it! The celebrated Mediterranean loup gets handsomely grilled in this kitchen, and we found nothing but praise for the langouste thermidor. The local wines en carafe turned out to be pleasing and inexpensive.

Down by the colorful port in Antilles is as salty a restaurant as you will find on the entire coast, called CHEZ FÉLIX AU PORT. The “fruit of the sea” blooms forth in flavorful abundance here. You feel that Félix' great-grandfather must have worked on the formula for the fragrant bouillabaisse which is now served to Such perfection. Former Premier Herriot, mayor of Lyon and hence an eminent gourmet, paid Felix the compliment of saying that “this restaurant is worthy of being Lyonnais.” Many oilier distinguished clients, who include the more mondaine of Riviera celebrities, would agree. If you don't happen to be in the mood for fish, a toothsome omelette provençale is a memorable substitute. Félix will even turn out a classic chateaubriand for the individualist who warns it.

La Brague

The open, much-traveled strip of highway between Antibes and Nice offers a rare opportunity for a good roadside inn. A few years ago such a place was built on a sandy, colorless site in La Brague, just as hundreds of roadside inns have been built along our own American national routes. The comparison falters there, however. I do wish some of our beanery architects would study LA BONNE AUBERGE in La Brague to see the potentialities of the modern roadside inn. The place is enormously inviting, a delightful, sprawling Provençal house with verandas, pergolas, and terraces shimmering with flowers. There is a tempting shop selling pottery, old copper, antiques, and old tiles. You park your car in a discreet hidden court, then enter a series of quiet, handsomely furnished Provençal rooms. There you are greeted by a polished gentleman who seats you at a large table, impeccably appointed. What happens thereafter is even better than you might expect, for the food is absolutely superlative, worthy of the mast exacting taste. You are in the presence of the authentic haute cuisine in a recently built roadside hostelry. The miracle can happen.

La Colle-sur-Loup

Excursions into the foothills arc a part of everyone's Riviera sojourn. One of the most popular motor trips begins at Cagnes-sur-Mer and takes in the paintable hill towns of St. Paul, Vence, and La Colle. At lunchtime on this trip you should encounter gastronomic good fortune at the venerable HOSTELLERIE DU LION D'OR at Vence, the colorful town where Matisse has elected to live. (Picasso has bis studio in near-by Valouris.) The atmosphere is pleasant at the Lion d'Or, and the cooking deserves the French designation of soignée. More of an adventure awaits you in the scattered village of La Colle-sur-Loup, however. Here you will find a feudal and rather austere ex-monastery with a twelfth-century chapel. It has been convened into the HOTEL DE L'ABBAYE, and is now the culinary stronghold of Monsieur Joseph Vighi, a name to be reckoned with. The interior of the abbey is far from austere. You dine in the picturesque vaulted halls or under the flowered pergolas, depending upon the season. The aged wine cellars contain many worthy bottles, and you are almost certain to enthuse over Joseph's poulet, de grain grillé, his trout, ravioli, and young roast lamb. We found the prices very reasonable.

Nice

The ponderous panorama of restaurants and hotels in Nice poses a challenge which leaves your correspondent dangling on the ropes. In speaking of a mere handful of Nice restaurants, I must point out that there are probably plenty of others of comparable rank. But I couldn't try them all and remain this side of apoplexy!

The most pleasant gustatory experience in Nice, I am convinced, consists first of spending an hour or more before lunchtime roaming through the old food market Then, after your appetite has been whetted by the sight of so many delectable things and by the aroma of garlic, basil, saffron, and pimientos floating through the air, select one of the near-by sidewalk restaurants on the quai des Etats-Unis and enjoy a Niçois repast on a terrace overlooking the azure Bay of Angels. My choice of the four or five good restaurants along this sunny segment is the RESTAURANT RAYNAUD,59 quai des Etats-Unis. This is one of the best managed and most luxurious in Nice, yet the prices are very fair, especially the prix fixe meals, which are generous and beautifully served. Monsieur Raynaud, who directs other restaurants in Nice, maintains an atmosphere of cordiality and solicitude for his guests, which is most pleasant. The service is alert, and the cooking, which has a noticeable Italian accent, is almost regal.

It was here that we tasted an authentic salade niçoise of such splendid simplicity and savor that it prompts an added paragraph. There are few, if any. Mediterranean dishes which you can prepare with more ease and scintillating success in your own kitchen than salade niçoise. The fundamentals arc always the same-tomatoes, string beans, potatoes, black olives, and anchovy filets-but there are subtle variations. When you sit on Monsieur Raynaud's terrace, the waiter brings on a platoon of chilled vegetables in a large bowl. There are:

• Small tomatoes, not too ripe, cut in quarters
• Small boiled Holland potatoes, sliced
• Boiled green beans
• A few very thin slices of Spanish onion
• Slices of mild yellow, green, and red peppers
• Black Greek olives
• Anchovy filets, cut in squares
• A hard-cooked egg or two, cut in quarters

At the moment of serving, a dressing of salt, pepper, wine vinegar, Provençal olive oil. and Dijon mustard is mixed and poured over the vegetables before the tossing begins. Sometimes the luxury of diced tuna fish is added. In any case, the procedure is simple to follow at the American table, and we entreat you to try it. Salade niçoise can be served as an hors-d'oeuvre, or farther along on your menu. And the color of this salad almost rivals a Turner sunset!

Once in a while you encounter a really different restaurant, one whose dishes are as individual as they are enticing. The secret behind such a phenomenon is usually a rare cook, one whose culinary personality colors the entire establishment. Such a place, it seems to me, is the RESTAURANT ST. MORITZ at 5 rue Congrès, a few steps from the Casino de la Méditerranée. The gifted chef, Monsieur Marti, has lofty and original ideas of what constitutes cooking of la grande classe, and his menus reflect his individual approach. Each of his dishes is a carefully studied chef-d'oeuvre, whether it be filet de sole gratiné au champagne, poularde maison, coquilles St. Jacques amoureuse, or any one of a dozen other specialties. The street façade of St. Moritz is appealing, and the interior resembles a very dressy Swiss chalet. The atmosphere is intimate, quiet, and luxurious. Rose-tinted tablecloths and napkins glow under soft lights. The place has a certain enchantment, all right. If I were twenty-two, possessed of plenty of money, and had a movie starlet to beau around (three preposterous postulates), I would dine at the St. Moritz almost every night.

For the gourmet who seeks a rich return for a moderate investment there is an exceptional restaurant in Nice called PETIT BROUAND, at 4 his rue Gustave-Deloye. We found the prix fixe meals here to be quite extraordinary, since they included both fish and meat dishes on the menu. Usually it is one or the other, rarely both. These ample repasts are served in a large, formal paneled salon with maroon hangings. The service, by comely Latin maids also in maroon, is excellent, and the addition which they compile for you should be a pleasant surprise. Petit Brouand gives generous value, but without deserting its high culinary standards,

You hear a lot about fragrant regional cookery along the Mediterranean shore, but you encounter precious little of it in the palaces, the hotels, and pensions of this sea-front metropolis. The high seasoning of la cuisine niçoise alarms the tourist, according to many a cautious maitre d'hòtel, and so the traveler finds himself in the safe, inoffensive veal, chicken, and beef routine. Only a few good restaurants are hold enough to toss caution to the wind and garlic in the mayonnaise. One of the best of these is CHEZ GARAC, a cheerful place at 2 boulevard Carnot, near the old fishing port. They don't attenuate the Gallic fragrance here! Their Niçois version of bouillabaisse leaves no doubt as to its virility. Yet their classic loup grillé au fenouil is subtlety itself. Some of the most fragrant wines from Bellet are in the cellar to make your Mediterranean meal an aromatic success.

Beaulieu-sur-Mer

If a vote were taken among qualified gourmets to determine the foremost of all Mediterranean restaurants, the honor would probably descend upon a perennial favorite, LA RESERVE, in Beaulieu-sur-Mer. Over a period of years La Réserve has represented the ultimate in luxurious appointments, in Lucullan food and flawless wines. It occupies a majestic site at the water's edge where you will find a little port for your boat. a swimming pool of filtered sea water, and a tropical garden shaded with palm trees. The building looks a little like a glorified convent from the outside, but the interior décor, far from being severe, is exquisitely inviting, in the finest modern French tradition. There are some thirty beautiful rooms for guests. One doesn't succeed in describing the cuisine of La Réserve by heaping superlatives upon it. The most glowing adjectives in my thesaurus sound flat and inadequate when applied to the superb artistry of Monsieur Potfer and his chef, Monsieur Benfilon. Here is one of the great restaurants of France, and thus of the world. As such, it has to be expensive, If you are forced to economize, it is better to do one of two things: leave La Réserve off your list temporarily or quit when you are ahead at the roulette table at Monte Carlo and invest your winnings in a sumptuous dinner at this seraphic seashore shrine. It's an investment you'll never regret. We did precisely this eleven years ago. and the memory of our mullet grilled over vine cuttings and our coq au vin du Rhin served on the terrace of La Réserve has never dimmed.

As you progress along the shore toward Italy, there are worthy places in the principality of Monaco and Menton, but they pale after La Réserve. It seems more considerate to leave you on this lofty plane, using my remaining space to cite a few Mediterranean recipes. There is a dazzling list to choose from aïoli, bouillabaisse, canneloni, daurade àla niçoise-you can just about go through the alphabet. We'll start with the celebrated aïoli, the Provençal version of mayonnaise, which accompanies so many Midi dishes. Mistral, the beloved poet of Provençe, scorned mayonnaise as mere marmalade compared to the robust virility of aïoli. It may ostracize you for a day, but it's worth trying!

Aïoli

Have all ingredients except the water very cold. Chop 8 garlic cloves finely and then mash them to a pulp in a small mortar. Stir in 1 egg yolk, ¼ teaspoon salt, and a pinch pepper. Then add 3 or A tablespoons olive oil very slowly, drop by drop, stirring furiously. Place this mixture in an electric mixer. and add gradually the juice of ½ lemon and 1 tablespoon tepid water with the mixer in action. Then, still mixing. add gradually I cup olive oil. Serve this mayonnaise with a platter containing steamed salt cod filets, potatoes in their jackets, carrots, artichokes, and hard-cooked eggs. Boiled beef may be substituted for the fish to obtain another version of this dish.

A delicious and original bors-d'oeuvre flourishes on the Riviera, and could just as well flourish in your home during the season when small pickling onions arc available. This dish is:

Oignons àla Monegasque

Peel 1 pound small white onions, the smallest obtainable, and put them in a saucepan with 1 ½ cups water. ½ cup white wine vinegar. 3 tablespoons olive oil, 3 tablespoons tomato paste. 1 bay leaf, ¼ teaspoon thyme, a sprig parsley, salt and freshly ground pepper. and ½ cup seedless raisins. Cover and allow them to cook over a low fire for about 1 ½ hours, or until the onions are tender and the sauce is thick and greatly reduced. Arrange the onions in a flat serving dish, pour the sauce over them, and chill.

Here is another very Latin hors d'oeuvre:

Poivrons Grillés (Grilled Peppers)

Select 3 or 4 sweet green, yellow, or red peppers, cut them in three or four sections, remove the seeds, coat on both sides with olive oil, and allow to stand for 1 hour. Wipe them, grill lightly on each side, and slice. Then dress with French dressing to which you add ½ teaspoon dry mustard and 1 teaspoon finely chopped onion.

Finally, here is an ardent, aromatic way of preparing:

Poulet àla Niçoise (Chicken Niçoise)

Cut up a 5-pound fowl as for a fricassee, rub the pieces with salt, and sauté them on all sides in 2 tablespoons melted butter combined with 3 or 4 tablespoons good oil.

When the pieces are brown, blend in from ¾ to 1 ½ teaspoons powdered saffron, depending on your taste and the strength of the saffron. Now add 3 garlic cloves cut in half, ½ teaspoon dried tarragon, ¼ teaspoon dried thyme, a pinch sage, 2 bay leaves, freshly ground pepper and salt if necessary, 4 or 5 ripe tomatoes, peeled and quartered and seeded. Also add about 20 pitted Italian olives, some green, some black, 1 ¼ cups white wine, and 1 ¼ cups chicken stock, which you have made ready by previously simmering the neck, wing tips, and giblets in water with a little onion, parsley, bay leaf, thyme, salt, and pepper.

Cover this savory mixture, which has a perfume characteristic of southern France with its particular blend of flavors. and cook it over a low heat for about I hour, or until the thicken is tender. The sauce should not be too plentiful and thin. If it is, drain it off and reduce it before serving.

Thumbing through past numbers of GOURMET, I find that bouillabaisse has claimed its full share of attention throughout the years. Another recipe would seem superfluous, but Jacques Normand has written such an enchanting one in French verse that it is needed to complete the documentation on this poetic dish. Here it is. direct from Soleils d'hiver and free from any meddlesome translator;

La Bouillabaisse