Dijon, France

If you’re like me, you take a lot of photos on trips. When I get home I go through them — deleting duplicates, turning off “Live” views, and labelling them for future reference. After that, I typically forget about them. These snowy days have left me with time on my hands, however, and reason to remember sunnier days. So, I decided to look at photos of my trip to France last autumn.

Given my recent post about the cooking master class I took in Dijon, it won’t surprise you that I had a LOT of photos of food from that trip. The photos that stand out the most to me are from the various markets I enjoyed.

I arrived in Paris on a Thursday morning and took a train directly from the airport to Dijon. When I exited the train station I was surprised to see a farmer’s market set up right there. It was very small — six or eight stalls — but it was busy with people picking up fresh vegetables, meat, sausages, and bread for their evening meal. Clearly this little market was for people who didn’t have time to shop at Les Halles, Dijon’s huge farmer’s market that’s open four mornings a week.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing at that train-side market was a baker weighing a wedge of bread for someone. I was astounded that you didn’t have to buy a full boule of bread. Imagine the ability to buy just the amount you wanted for the next meal — no need to worry about the bread getting hard, much less stale!

Then there was Les Halles. Though I had read about it, I was still surprised by its size and grandeur. The columns of the 125-year-old metal framed structure reminds one of the metal work on the Eiffel Tower. Though I don’t think Eiffel necessarily had anything to do with Les Halles, Chef François Louvel pointed out the similarity to the work of Dijon’s own Gustave Eiffel.

They say you eat first with your eyes and clearly the vendors at the market make the most of that idea. From heaping stacks of fresh greens, to overflowing baskets of varieties of mushrooms that I’ve never imagined, to lush displays of prepared terrines, and display cases with all manner of ready-to-eat delights. And, as with the baker at the market outside the trains station, vendors are happy to sell just a piece or slice of something you want — no need to buy a whole squash — just ask for a wedge.

And cheese… oh cheese… I love the fact that you could buy a little 1 Euro bon-bon like piece of cheese!

In addition to the many permanent stalls inside Les Halles, on three of the four days it’s open there are additional stalls all around the outside. For example, the truffle seller was at a table on the outside of the market on Friday morning — you could even buy mattresses on Saturday morning!

Next time I go to Dijon I’d like to rent an apartment so I can do some cooking and really enjoy all that Les Halles offers.

The farmer’s market in Arles was surprisingly large, for a city its size. The vendors set up shop one morning a week along the outside wall of the city. There was all sorts of food — meat, fruits, vegetables, and quite a lot of fish. There were sections devoted to housewares, clothes, and a huge section featuring stall after stall of spices. It definitely had a souk feel, with many vendors in traditional middle eastern dress. It was the first place I’ve seen white pomegranates. (Indeed, had one not been cracked open to show off the ruby little gems, I wouldn’t have guessed they were pomegranates.)

In Paris I was staying in the 15th arrondissement — the Grenelle neighbourhood. The second morning I was there (a Wednesday) I headed to the Metro, which is elevated in that area. To my surprise, tucked in below the elevated rail was a very big market. Like the market in Arles, of course there was all the food types you could want, as well as quite an assortment of clothes and household items. And, if all that wasn’t enough, there was a vendor that did chair reupholstery! That market was a true one-stop shopping centre.

Earlier this year I was planning a trip to France. In November I was meeting my sisters for a wine cruise on the Rhône and Saône but I wanted to spend a few days exploring the Burgundy region on my own before the cruise.

When I found a hotel in Dijon (Maison Philippe Le Bon) that advertised a “Cooking Class with the Chef”, I was (to quote a Scottish friend) chuffed! I noticed there were no specific dates listed for the cooking class, but that didn’t bother me. I booked three nights at the hotel and then emailed them to ask them to reserve me a spot in the cooking class. (I hoped my enthusiasm would prompt them to schedule the class while I was there.)

The hotel responded right away, but the news wasn’t what I hoped. They said that, regretfully, they no longer offer the class. Bummed out, I wrote them again and asked for suggestions for some equivalent culinary activity in Dijon. They sent me names of places offering pretty standard cooking classes (for example, how to make macarons) and food tours. That wasn’t what I had in mind.

Discouraged, I wrote them again, this time describing the (fantasy) experience I was hoping for. I explained that I hoped to accompany a chef to the market one morning to watch the chef choose ingredients for that day’s menu. I didn’t have the nerve to say that like to watch the chef prepare the food, as I thought that might be a bit too much. But, I did say that I’d eat at the restaurant that day so I could try the food prepared using what the chef bought that morning. Not too much to ask, eh?

Weeks went by and I heard nothing. (Too much to ask, I figured.) Then one morning my phone rang with a call from France. It was Brice, the receptionist at the hotel, calling to tell me they arranged for me to accompany chef François Louvel to the market one morning and then to have lunch at his restaurant. Brice proceeded to tell me a bit about the chef and his restaurant: Brasserie François. I was so excited, I really didn’t absorbed the details. Brice then asked if that sounded ok and I said yes. Brice mentioned the price (more than three times the cost of the “Cooking Class with the Chef” that started this whole fantasy), but it really didn’t matter — it sounded fantastic.

A few days later Brice emailed me further details, but I was still not clear about how many of us there would be. Never mind — I was up for whatever the French chef had in mind.

Shopping with the Chef

I remembered Brice saying the restaurant was near the market (Les Halles). It turns, it’s right across from Les Halles. I arrived early and waited in front of the restaurant. I was surprised when a young guy parked his motorbike and headed to open the restaurant door. Sure enough, it was Chef François. I introduced myself and we went in together. He made me a cappuccino and Chef Evan and Sebastian, who is in charge of the service, arrived.

After our coffee, François, Sebastian, and I headed into the market. François asked me what I like to eat and I told him the truth: pretty much anything other than offal. (I had looked up how to say that in French, just to be sure.) As we walked through Les Halles, François was greeted by various vendors he deals with. He asked me if I like fish and when I said I did, he smiled and said that he’d choose a nice one for us.

After reviewing the fish on hand at his favourite fish stall, he chose a Daurade Royale Brettone. While the fish monger gutted the daurade, François explained to me that Daurade Royale is distinguished by the yellow stripe on its nose.

Left photo: François choosing a fish; middle photo: Daurade Royale Brettone; right photo: fish monger gutting our fish

I was surprised to see among the fish a basket marked Salicorne Sauvage. I told François I used to buy that when I lived in Holland, but that I know it as sea asparagus. He asked if I like it and when I said I did he told me to bag some to serve with the daurade.

Then he was looking for what to make to accompany the fish. As we walked around, I pointed to a mushroom vendor’s stand and commented about all the different mushrooms — most of which I’d never seen. He asked if I like mushrooms. I do. He chatted briefly with the vendor and next thing I know we had a small bag of mixed mushrooms and the ingredients for our dish was coming together.

As we walked through the market, Sebastian pointed out a few local specialties. He asked if I like pork and I said I do. The next thing I know he’s buying a slice of a Dijon specialty: Jambon Persille — a pork and parsley terrine. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’m not that keen on terrines. When we got back to the restaurant Sebastian unwrapped the terrine and poured me a lovely glass of red — a 2023 Givry 1er Cru, Les Servoisines — to go with it. The terrine was absolutely delicious. (The next day I bought a piece to share with my sisters when we met.)

Brasserie François has a semi-open kitchen and as Sebastian and I were enjoying the terrine, I noticed François putting out two cutting boards and various knives and tools. He put the Daurade Royale on one of the cutting boards. He then motioned for me to come into the kitchen. He handed me an apron and showed me my cooking station. Until this point, I thought I’d be watching him cook.

A private, hands-on masterclass

François cut the head of the daurade off and that’s when I realized the fish monger hadn’t de-boned it — he had only taken out the guts. We were going to de-bone it. François showed me as he took off the first fillet, then he turned the fish over and put it on my cutting board. He explained how I was to move the knife to get the second fillet off. I didn’t do it as quickly as he did, but my work met with his approval.

The fish monger did NOT debone — that was our job

Putting the fillets aside, we then started on the sauce for the fish. It was pretty straightforward: carrots and onion sautéed in a neutral oil and then added to the washed fish bones and set to boil in water. When the water reduced we strained the stock and added heavy cream. We brought it to a boil and then reduced it to a simmer on his professional induction cooktop that automatically cycled between a high and low temperature. (So much better than my induction cooktop!) After straining the sauce we added two secret ingredients: a dash of black garlic paste and smoked fish base. Then, one final chef’s touch: he aerated the sauce with an immersion blender. Texture? I asked. He smiled and nodded.

On to the mushrooms. A simple sauté in neutral oil with a dash of salt to finish.

Then it was time to pan fry the fillets. The secret is to put the fillet skin side down in the frying pan (in neutral oil) and then add butter. When the butter melts you tip the frying pan a bit and rapidly baste the top. You don’t flip the fillet — the heat from the butter/oil cooks the delicate fish through.

Then it was time to plate the fish. Oh, first he had me sauté the sea asparagus to warm it up a bit. This was my second “opportunity” to practice the chef sauté flip. (I need to work on that a bit more!)

First on the plate was a mound of mushrooms. Then the fillet was centred on top. Then the sauce, which is carefully, but generously, spooned along the sides of the fillet (not on top!). The final touch was a sprinkling of gorgeous microgreens and the sea asparagus. One last thing before digging in — a glass of Saint-Romain Clos Sous Le Chateau Monopole 2022.

An Unforgettable Experience

The Daurade Royale was divine and it went beautifully with the Saint-Romain.

The morning was not quite over for me though — they let me stay on through the lunch service. Chef Evan was happy to tell me about the day’s menu (and the six different sauces he was using for the different dishes that day). Between orders he also made me a few side dishes to try, including that day’s fish (good, but not as exquisite as the Daurade Royale), the dessert of the day (poached pear filled with ice cream and covered in caramel cream sauce), and a Burgundy specialty: oeufs en meurette (poached eggs in a mushroom/red wine sauce).

François Louvel is an amazing chef and a great teacher. He seemed pleased at my interest and enthusiasm and was surprised when I told him that I couldn’t wait to write about my masterclass for the blog. (I hadn’t told anyone about my blog until afterward.)

I have Brice from Maison Philippe Le Bon and François’s wife Anne-laure (who works at the restaurant) to thank for designing this once-in-a-lifetime experience and I’m also grateful to Chef Evan and Sebastian for spoiling me.