In this pleasant town in the valley of the Isère, some twelve miles from Grenoble, is a fair-weather hotel well worth attention. It is on the outskirts of the town, down by the viaduct, and it is called the HÔTEL BEAUSÈJOUR. Fortunately its food is more individual than its name. Monsieur Seigle is your affable host, and he knows the fine points of regional cooking. If proof is needed, try his poulet grillé sauce diable as pièce de résistance or if the season is right, a sublimated bécusse flambée. The setting may be either a sheltered garden or a rustic dining salon, each with a fine view of the mountain-hemmed valley.
Lus-la-Crok-Haute (Drôme)
The more adventurous souls who choose this highway between Paris and the Riviera find more exhilarating scenery hut fewer good overnight slops. The latter are adequate, however. One of the good ones is the TOURING HÔTEL in this mountain-shrouded hamlet. This simple hostelry facing the railway station is a favorite with skiers and summer trippers alike. They enjoy its commanding view of (he valley of the Trabuëch but appreciate even more. I suspect. the subtle culinary offerings of Monsieur Garzon, specifically his famous gratia daupbinois. The atmosphere of this inn is cordial and gay, even though you seem very far from civilization.
Serres (Hautes-Alpes)
Another good stop along the Napoleonic road is in this hillside town, where the HÔTEL FIFI MOULIN perches above a dramatic panorama of the valley. Your hostess in this gracious establishment is Mademoiselle Jean, a lady whose culinary prowess is evident as soon as you are seated at her hospitable table. Her gratin will compare favorably with the best, and her foie gras maison is a beautiful way to begin a luncheon. Here is a country hotel in the good old tradition.
Gap (Hautes-Alpes)
In this valley town, which has much of the savor of Provence, you will find a charming retreat for a quiet luncheon under the trees. This is called simply LE RELAIS, and you have to walk some fifty yards down a private walk to get there. But the menu is posted on the street, allowing you to assess the gastronomic pleasures which compensate for that much footwork. Madame Arnaud's carte du jour may list truites Cbampsaur or rable de lièvre à la' crème, or it may promise caneton à l'orange or grives-sur-canapé. Whatever it is, the fifty-yard trek will be well invested.
La Roche-de-Rame (Hautes-Alpes)
You arc several miles from nowhere when you come upon this remote village, hemmed in by overwhelming mountain ridges. We arrived there at dusk in a dismal autumn drizzle, tired, ravenous, but hopeful, since the guidebooks had all said complimentary things about the HÔTEL FOURRAT. Its brightly lighted bar was a soul-warming sight to our travelweary eyes. Over the apécritifs we talked with Madame Fourrat and planned the kind of dinner which goes with a chill October evening: onion soup, truite meunière. poulet à la crème, gratin daupbinois, all particular specialties of the house. It turned out to be a lovely evening, even as the mist sank lower and the moisture dripped more and more disconsolately from the eaves. A chilled Chablis Vaudésir, followed by a languorous Hermitage Rouge, followed by satanically hot. strong black coffee and some old Chartreuse —all these helped us to realize how lucky we were to choose this gustatory outpost.
Vienna (Isère)
So much has been written about Monsieur Fernand Point and his astonishing RESTAURANT DE LA PYRAMIDS in Vienne that it would seem needless for mc to dwell long upon the subject here. Without question, this restaurant enjoys the best word-of-mouth publicity in France today. Most informed Frenchmen consider that it is the finest dining place in their country, and hence in the world. Monsieur Point's name creeps into the foreground in any gastronomic discussion. Rightly or not. he is considered the “premier restaurateur du monde,” and a step ahead of the most revered names in Paris. Lyon, New York, and London.
There must be an explanation, and it may very well lie in the fact that Monsieur Point has more imagination than his confrères. He appears to be more of a student of historic French cooking than most of his rivals. He perceived long ago that the automobile will bring the whole world to his doorstep (if he provides enough parking space), even if he is located near the factories on the outskirts of an unremarkable city (save for its Roman relics) on the Rhône. He has combined lavish plenty with the irreproachable grande cuisine of the early 1900's and with what is even more a talisman of aristocracy: faultless, smiling, unhurried, considerate service on the part of everyone in the establishment from the bus boy to the patron himself.
His technique of providing neither a carte du jour nor a wine list for his patrons seems, at first sight, to be preposterous. Yet nobody objects, first because everyone knows the meal will be magnificent anyway, and secondly because his wine cellar is probably the best one in France. People have learned that practically any bottle which (hey request will be furnished with casual ease by the sommelier. Do you want proof ? Monsieur Point's cellar has eleven of the best years of RomanéeConti and ten of the most celebrated Château Yquems. One can only surmise the extent of his holdings in various treasures from the Rhône Valley. But I can assure you that the best Côte Rôtie I ever tasted appeared at his table with a succulent partridge last autumn, and few Burgundies could touch it.
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