Lyon’s Famous Bouchons

In south-eastern France, at the confluence of the Saône and the life-giving Rhône, sits Lyon: a historically important centre of silk production, a city closely tied to the birth of cinema through the Lumière brothers, the birthplace of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, and a crossroads for ingredients of exceptional gastronomic value and quality. Known as “the belly of France” and often described as the capital of French gastronomy, it is rightly proud of the abundance of produce that passes through its markets, and of its residents’ deep-rooted love of food.

The Lyonnais themselves adore eating. They have a particular fondness for the mâchon, the tradition of starting the day with a hearty meal of charcuterie and red wine, and give themselves over happily to the rich, generous dishes of a cuisine celebrated across France. For visitors, there are countless ways to discover it, many of them in the tourist heart of the old town, scattered through its cobbled lanes and watched over by Fourvière.

The truly authentic bouchons, however, the local bistros that are actually worth the calorific indulgence, are few and scattered almost at random across the city’s nine arrondissements. In an effort to protect both their traditional character and their reputation, Lyon’s restaurant bodies have drawn up lists of the addresses that best express the spirit of these small temples of gastronomy.

When they meet the criteria, which can feel rather fluid and depend to a large extent on the judges’ sense of what a bouchon should look and feel like, as well as, of course, the quality of the food, they are awarded the distinctive Guignol or Gnafron-style emblem. This features the cartoonish image of a Lyonnais puppet in a hat, holding a full glass of red wine and a napkin bearing the city’s coat of arms, his nose and cheeks flushed red from alcohol and good living. What could be more fitting?

From a gastronomic point of view, bouchons serve a fairly specific repertoire of traditional dishes, with menus that vary only slightly from one place to another. In essence, they are different expressions of the same concept.

One of the finest expressions of local gastronomy is La Tête de Lard, pictured in the main image for this article, with its pig’s head emblem. On a narrow side street near the city hall, behind a façade that does not differ greatly from the other bouchons in the area, the smiling, well-fed figure of Guignol welcomes you to an address that openly advertises the source of its flavour: fat. The restaurant is indeed in central Lyon, close to the Opéra and Hôtel de Ville, at 13 rue Désirée.

Boudin, pork cheeks, bone marrow, sweetbreads, lamb’s brains and assertive andouillette in pastry: La Tête de Lard is for serious eaters, and at the same time an example of exactly why Lyon earned its culinary nicknames. In classic style, with old-fashioned wooden tables and checked tablecloths, it fills with locals, and booking is essential at peak times.

For me, the meal began with a generous pork sausage in an airy, crisp, light and gently sweet brioche dough, with an exemplary crunchy crust. A sort of Lyonnais sausage roll, it wipes out anything similar you may have eaten before. Then came a delicious, gelatinous boiled boneless calf’s head, its different textures and flavours brought together by the sharpness of sauce gribiche, made with hard-boiled egg, mustard, capers, herbs and oil. It cleanses the palate, binds each mouthful and brings freshness.

As for desserts, the classics were there: tarte aux pralines, chocolate mousse and wine-poached pears, all of which looked delicious, though I cannot comment on their flavour.

Info: https://www.bouchon-latetedelard.fr/

Bouchon Palais Grillet

In the heart of the Presqu’île, on a quiet side street, Bouchon Palais Grillet looks like a simple bistro, with an appearance that does not quite match the stereotypical image of a Lyonnais bouchon. Its menu, however, more than makes up for that, with foie gras “cakes”, salades lyonnaises, grilled calf’s head and the city’s most emblematic dish, quenelle de brochet. The restaurant is located at 8 rue Palais Grillet in Lyon’s 2nd arrondissement. Any description risks doing it a disservice, because the dish itself can sound odd at first: river pike is minced, then mixed with cream, milk, eggs, butter and flour before being shaped and baked in a hot oven, so that it stays creamy inside while forming a crust, elevating a humble fish into something far greater. Served in a pool of crayfish bisque, it comes together beautifully and lifts the whole dish.

To finish, there are classic cheeses and desserts, including the light cervelle de canut, historically associated with Lyon’s silk workers: a fresh white cheese spread, reminiscent of Greek galotyri, served with herbs and leaving the palate feeling refreshed. For a digestif, a bittersweet yellow Chartreuse.

Info: https://www.bouchonpalaisgrillet.com/

Café du Jura

Café du Jura is like one of those love stories you see in the cinema. A random turn down a side street, a door that opened in front of me and almost hit me, an impulsive decision to try a restaurant chosen entirely by chance, and a story I have remembered ever since. Noisy, small, packed, wood-panelled, with little tables dressed in red-and-white checked cloths, experienced staff moving at speed, and one empty seat in the middle of the café, my back to the door. I felt entirely out of place. And then love entered the frame.

The dish that gave me a reason to return to the capital of the Gauls, and the one that has lived in my gastronomic dreams ever since, was Bresse chicken in a vin jaune and morel sauce. A culinary poem, with a full, velvety sauce and an almond-like finish enveloping the plump bird, while the almost crisp morels brought the whole thing together and lifted it completely. My eyes widened at the first mouthful, the world around me stopped, and for ten minutes I danced with that exquisite chicken in the middle of a packed bouchon.

Before that masterpiece, there had been a prelude of perfectly executed pork pâté en croûte with a touch of punchy mustard, followed by a deep-red tarte aux pralines that struck a strangely successful balance between chewy texture, gentle sweetness and crisp pastry. To finish, a Chartreuse 1605 Liqueur d’Elixir. And then memory. A scene.