It is almost impossible to avoid the guidebook technique in discussing the gastronomic riches of the Ile-de-France. There is so much to see in the province of the capital of France—cathedrals, châteaux, forests, and old towns—that one has an irresistible urge to couple a famous country auberge with its historical surroundings. What is the epicurean solution to a day in Versailles, a week end in Barbizon, or a visit to the cathedrals north of Paris? Where should you lunch if you go to the races at Chantilly, or if you motor down the banks of the Seine, or if you Suddenly decide to wander through the majestic stillness of the forest of Fontainebleau? The much emphasized tie-up between gastronomy and teurisme could hardly have a better illustration. So even if the ensuing paragraphs have a faint blush of Baedeker about them, I hope you will overlook the fact and bear with me, for there are some names to treasure truffled in this text,
One expects the environs of Paris to be studded with interesting side trips, and it is. Within the small confines of the lle-de-France arc the two most celebrated palaces in France, Versailles and Fontainebleau, and other châteaux almost as impressive-Pierre-fonds, Saint-Germain, Chantilly, Compiègnc, and Rambouillet. There are dozens of less obvious châteaux-Gros Bois, Pampierre, Malmaison, and Vaux-le-Vicomtc, for example, which provide mild adventure off the beaten path and a good country inn for your rustic lunch. The northern half of the lle-de-France is generously sprinkled with dihedrals—Saint—Denis, Senlis, Soissons, Mantes, Laon, and Noyon-all worth a visit and all within the orbit of a gastronomic lour. Then, there are the beautiful race tracks in the Paris region. Farther out are the forests and beyond them the open countryside, each with a distinct appeal. How can this help but turn into a treatise on spending a day or a week end away from the cacophony of Paris?
Of course, the appeal is not always touristic. The exacting gourmet who refuses to dilute his gastronomy with architecture and milling sightseers can make a pilgrimage to Bougival or Donnemarie-en-Montois, for example, and concentrate on the splendors of fine cooking alone. The two romantic young people who value a sylvan bower far more than a château courtyard or a cathedral nave will find ecstasy and superlative food, if it happens to interest them, in the idyllic Barbizon hotels bordering the forest of Fontainebleau. The noise-weary visitor in Paris who yearns for a tranquil dinner on the bank of a river somewhere has only to ask the taxi driver to take him to Chennevières, a quiet village on the Marne. There he will find L'ECU DE FRANCE, a rustic auberge whose riverbank terrace has been a favorite with Parisians since the 1880's. As you can see, there is something for every taste.
Getting down to technicalities for the briefest possible moment, the Ile-de-France is made up roughly of four dépatements -Seine (Paris), Seine-et-Oise, Aisne, Oise. and heller than half of the Seine-et-Marne. which falls partly in the Champagne. The Ilcdc-Francc may be the most populous province in France, but it is amazing how soon you emerge from Paris into the open country. Small wonder that Paris is deserted on a warm Sunday.
There is a distinct regional cookery in the outlying fringes of the Ile-de-France, but it is by no means pronounced. as is the case in Béam, Périgord, or Provence. It seems safe to generalize and to state that, by and large, the Ilc'de-France luxuriates in the pure French cuisine. free from the affectations of Paris-and what could be better? When this series appears in book form there will be a plump chapter on regional dishes from the Ilc-de-Prance. For the moment space limits this toothsome discussion to a few days' trips and week ends out of Paris, all with gastronomic overtones. Here, by département, are some of the better ones:
Bougival (Seine-et-Oise)
The very topmost rank among the several fine outlying restaurants within taxi distance of Paris has, for several years, been occupied by the HOSTELLERIE DU COQ HARDY, in Bougival. It has become a legend, and few informed visitors with distinguished palates miss it. Bougival is an inconspicuous village on the Seine, not far from Saint-Germain, and it is conceivable, but unlikely, that a tireless tripper could combine the châteaux of Malmaihison, Saint-Germain, and Versailles with a luncheon in the Lucullan Bold Rooster. That is entirely too much for one day, for this fabulous establishment is an experience in itself and is likely to be a lengthy one. A cheerful While Horse Inn type of place on the riverside 2nd heavily banked with luxurious motor cars, the Coq Hardy is quite irresistible once you are past its threshold. You dine under the trees in a bower of blossoms when the weather is fine. Otherwise, a choice of handsomely appointed dining salons awaits you. But the reputation of the Cot] Hardy rests on something more substantial than begonias and Louis XVI chairs. Its cuisine is quite beyond reproach and equal to the best in Paris. The service is impeccable and attentive, the wines noble, the prices understandably high. It is hardly fair to select one specialty in preference to another, but here arc four memorable ones: pâté chand maison, gratin de homatd à la Newberg. pottlet à la brocbe, and gâtean an abocolat. With a crisp Mcursault and a soul-warming Château-Lafite they make up a dinner not to be soon forgotten.
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