Le Voyage du Fromage
July 23 - August 2, 2017
Did you know that we love it when our family comes to visit? Seester Becky and her beau Brian are especially good at it - they've already come to Europe twice since we moved here. Unfortunately for them, the first trip they planned was in late November, which is not a particularly vibrant time to experience what Berlin has to offer. On that trip they brought Brian's eldest son, the King of Sullen Teens, Tahoda. In a continuing attempt to engrain world culture into their small-town kiddos, they brought the middle child Ukiah on this trip and planned a summer jaunt that would start in Berlin, move on to France, and finish up in Spain. Unlike their first trip, which was cold and gray with snow flurries, this time around we could show them Berlin as it's meant to be seen: in the sunshine, by the canal, with a beer.
Though Becky and Brian had already seen most of the iconic sights their first time around, we revisited them for the sake of Ukiah, attempting to unfurl Germany's sordid past in a way that he might find interesting and not just as old people trying to teach him things on his summer break. As we did with his brother before, we plied the teenager with Haribos and Playstation between cultural excursions to keep his equilibrium from shifting too far out of whack. We went out for traditional German fare like schnitzel and käsespätzle, delicious grill-it-yourself Turkish BBQ at Fes, and sampled a wide assortment of kebabs. Though the teenager preferred McDonalds, his favorite food in Germany was definitely the döner.
Josh, one of Mazz's friends from Portland, had recently moved with his wife Tassa and small child Chloe to the town of Annecy, France, and had invited us all to come out and visit them. Annecy is close to Geneva, but we didn't have a lot of desire to go back to Switzerland, so we decided to fly into Lyon and make our way up to Annecy from there, about an hour and a half by train. When we arrived in the Lyon airport, we were confused as to where the bus that would take us to the main train station was located, so we wandered around the side of the airport until we found an area with busses. It turned out that none of these busses were heading into Lyon, but the very first one we stumbled upon was leaving in 5 minutes to Annecy, and it cost only a fraction of what our original journey by train would have.
Josh met us outside the bus station and led us to our Airbnb, a family's apartment that they rented when they were out of town. It's always a bit strange staying in a place that a family clearly considers home, but it was big and spacious with a great kitchen, and perfectly located to explore the city and the lake. After dropping off our stuff, Josh pointed the way to a supermarket, where we loaded up on things to stock the fridge with, specifically cheeses, sausages, and wine. It turns out France is really good at that stuff.
We had an idea that Annecy was a pretty place, but none of us were quite prepared for exactly how picturesque it would actually be. Situated on a glistening blue lake with mountains stretching into the distance behind it, Annecy is so beautiful it's unfair to pretty much every other place. The town itself is charming and quaint, with canals and bridges and blooming flower baskets lining all the railings. We made our way along the waterfront in disbelief, stopping for a while to play with the public exercise equipment set up right on the lakeside. Before long the water became too enticing, so we found a semi-floating dock and jumped in. Brian and Ukiah knew well enough this was going to happen before we left the house, so they were in their trunks. Like a fool, Kirb misjudged the allure of the alpine lake, and was forced to strip down to his underpants for his swim, enjoying the remainder of the evening with a soggy bottom.
After catching up with Josh over some Belgian beers, he offered to take us on a moonlight tour of the town. We went up to see the castle, which was already closed, but offered a high vantage point to see the city below. We wandered the streets and along the canals, checking out the old jail where they used to lock up drunks, and Josh's favorite monument, a hilariously undersized frog fountain. After the tour we headed back to the apartment, where a bounty of reblochon cheese, sausages, baguettes, fruit, and wine awaited.
It was good that we ate so much of the groceries we had bought that evening, because it gave us an excuse to buy even better food the next morning at the farmer's market. The quality of the food and the selection at the Annecy farmer's market was incredible; we're not sure we've ever been to a comparable market with so many amazing things for sale. Seester Becky, who is a farmer, bought bags and bags of fresh produce, while Kirb focused on sausages, baguettes, and farm butter. Oh my god, the farm butter. Josh, Tassa, and Chloe met us there, and loaded up on things for the dinner they were hosting for us later that night.
On the other side of town, there was a Saturday flea market that took over most of the downtown area, with block after block covered in curios, books, and antiques. As we browsed, the gray clouds dissipated and made way for bright blue skies, so we headed back to the apartment to change and make our way to the beach, which was just a short walk from our place. Brian and Ukiah stopped on the way to buy a Frisbee, which we spent the afternoon chucking to one another in the warm, blue water. Josh and Chloe built sandcastles, and all of us marveled at what a stunning place she got to grow up calling home.
For dinner, Josh and Tassa prepared big batches of Niçoise salad and a flaky vegetable tart, which Ukiah thought at first was a pizza and then was disappointed to learn was just bread, vegetables, and goat cheese. The adults loved it. We brought along a couple of bottles of wine that had been recommended to us in town, along with some fruit tarts from the bakery Josh had told us was the best. Many bottles of wine were consumed, and the food was delicious, but the highlight was the cheese plate at the end of the meal. It was here that we were introduced to what has now become our favorite cheese: Saint-Félicien. One bite and Kirb reflexively blurted out, "WHAT IS THIS?!?!" Rich, unpasteurized, and basically dripping at room temperature, Saint-Félicien is the perfect mixture of savory and funky. We thought we knew something about cheese until we walked into a French cheese shop and realized we didn't know anything. Now, we can still pick blindly and be adventurous, but we also know the name of the cheese that is exactly what we want.
Our bus back to Lyon the next day wasn't until late afternoon, so Kirb, Mazz, and Ukiah decided to take the bikes stored at the Airbnb on a trip around the lake. The peaceful ride through the French countryside was only marred when an cycler overzealously overtook a woman riding slower than him, yelling at her as he passed, and causing her to crash head-first into the concrete. Thankfully it happened outside a beach club where there were lifeguards trained in first aid on hand, as she had not been wearing a helmet and seemed to be pretty shook up. We enjoyed one last sun-soaked stroll along the waterfront, then made our way back to Airbnb to clean up and check out. Josh, Tassa, and Chloe met us at a café near the bus station before we took off for a final meal and goodbyes, then we were off to Lyon.
Though Kirb and Mazz hadn't specifically thought about visiting Lyon, it had been on Becky's list for some time. It wasn't until the prospect of visiting came up that we learned that Lyon is the gastronomic capitol of France, and as we love French food more than just about anything, we were easily excited by the possibilities. With a couple hours of daylight left after arriving in town, we took the cable car up to the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière, where we caught some of a Sunday evening service and checked out the panoramic views of the town below. For dinner, we decided to throw Ukiah a break, as he'd been an excellent sport so far but wasn't nearly as thrilled as we were about French cuisine. We asked him what he wanted and found a burger place downtown.
The next day though, it was time to get weirder than ever with the French food. Traditional Lyonnais cuisine is served in special restaurants called Bouchons, and though plenty of places claim to be Bouchons, there are only around twenty restaurants in Lyon that are officially certified as such. One of the real Bouchons, Café des Fédérations, was only a few blocks from our place, and came with glowing recommendations. The meal started with a variety of appetizers, including charcuterie, a mustardy Lyonnais lentil salad, cabbage slaw, and a fish and potato puree with fresh bread.
We all decided to try different traditional dishes, except for Mazz and Becky, who both went with the Quenelle, a fluffy fish and egg pastry served in a rich and creamy crayfish sauce. Kirb went with the pork cheek stew, Brian with the sweetbreads and morels, and Ukiah, not entirely sure what it was he was ordering, got the fried beef stomach. Deserts included praline tart, house made ice cream with French liquor and black currant coulis, and the standout, a pear, perfectly poached in red wine. During the exceptional meal, a man came in with an accordion and serenaded the restaurant. At the end, we asked the waitress if we should give him a tip, and she said, "No, he's over there eating now with the owner. He just does that because he likes to."
We spent the afternoon checking out the shopping in town, which was surprisingly abundant. It was soldes d’été, a bi-annual time for countrywide sales, as determined by the French government. Every store had massive discounts, making it easy to wander from place to place looking for deals. After we had our fill of shopping we loaded up on snacks and made our way to Parc de la Tête d'Or, where we rented bikes and leisurely made our way around the lake at its center. Eventually we stopped in a giant grassy field, where Kirb, Brian, and Ukiah tuckered themselves out chasing after the Frisbee like dogs, while Mazz and Becky sipped wine and ate seafood. Kirb loved having a young person around who also wanted to run around and play, and really enjoyed learning some new, not-quite-swearing teenager phrases like, "Suck a butt, ya frick!"
Lyon is the food capital of France, and Paul Bocuse is the culinary godfather of Lyon. His restaurant l'Auberge du Pont de Collonge, is one of a small number of French restaurants to have received a three-star Michelin rating. Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse is a famed indoor market named after the finest Lyonnais chef, serving the finest French delicacies. Though the market has over 50 stalls, we showed up during a period when many were unfortunately on an afternoon break. Still, it proved no problem to find a wide variety of delicious cheeses (obviously including Saint-Félicien), cured meats, bread, olives, and more, so we could set up a decadent picnic for ourselves on the tables outside the market. When the shops began to open back up, we sampled the wares at Charcuterie Sibilia and bought an incredible Jésus de Lyon saucisson to take back with us to Berlin, as well as more Saint-Félicien and farm butter from the "legendary cheesemonger" Mère Richard.
It wouldn't be a vacation if Mazz didn't get to go on a boat, so we got some late-evening tickets for a tour down the Rhone. The Lyon waterfront has starkly different styles of architecture, with classic buildings contrasted by brightly colored green and orange structures that look like they belong in science fiction. Boats are fun, but the tour was pretty boring. Kirb fell asleep for a while. 3 out of 5 stars.
We struck out on a few of the places we wanted to eat for our final meal in Lyon, so we ended up wandering around a popular restaurant district until we found something that looked good. The café we ended up in had a limited menu, but their house special was a burger with foie gras, so we ordered them all around. Kirb and Mazz were excited that the place offered Picon beers, a French/Belgian beer and liqueur combo that makes them fondly think of their good friend Spritzboi, who introduced them to the drink. Served with chewy French bread instead of buns, the burgers came with a giant hunk of foie gras stuck to the top with a French flag toothpick. How do you make a burger so French it can properly fly the flag? There's probably no better way than putting a huge piece of duck liver on it.
The next morning we bid adieu to the family and made our way to the airport well before dawn. They would stay a few more days in Lyon, then take the train to Barcelona, transitioning from the world's best cheese to the world's best ham. The streets of Lyon were kind of sketchy at 5am on a Saturday. After passing by what looked like a 16 year old girl with a full neck tattoo, we came across a dumpster completely on fire. When we stopped to take a picture of it, some guy sitting out on a stoop started yelling stuff at us we couldn't understand. We'll never know exactly what he was saying, but I have a hunch he saw our bags and knew we were leaving, and was warning, "Don't go back to Germany, you'll never eat as well as you can in France."