A day of sun and cloud, cooler after an overnight storm, but becoming warm and humid again in the afternoon.

After petit déjeuner in du Mail’s bar, immaculate and shining like everything else in this well-run place, we set off in the direction of the Rhône and points south. We crossed the Rhône at Ampuis and made a leisurely promenade en auto along the right bank, admiring the view of the steep-sloping Côte Rotie vineyards with their huge signs for the producers E. Guigal and Chapoutier. We crossed back over the river at Condrieu to arrive in les Roches-de-Condrieu, and after a stop at a jeweler’s for a needed replacement watch battery (F45), found we were in nice time for lunch at:

Les Roches de Condrieu

This long-established restaurant has an attractive main dining room with large windows overlooking the water. It was already nearly full by the time we arrived, and as we had not called ahead we had to accept a table at an unfavorable end section. It was noisy there, but we had a window table with a view of the river and the boat harbor.

We talked with a waiter recently back in France after five years in Canada. In his fluent but oddly-pronounced English, he told us he had an English wife, and that they wish to visit and perhaps live in Australia. He has friends in Headland, we thought he said. Could he be thinking of Port Headland, an unexpected place to have friends? No, no, Headland, he insisted—you know, the capital of South Australia. Even with that hint it took a while for us to realize he was talking about Adelaide.

Meursault Louis Latour 1987 (demi F103): The waiter’s pronunciation of English may have been faulty, but he made no mistake in recommending this seemingly over-the-hill white Burgundy. Though the wine’s golden hue was dimmed by a hint of brown, the rich fruitiness came through intact.

Salade verte: We ordered a big bowl and shared it—an idea that worked very nicely.

Path not taken: we were mightily attracted by Marjolaine de ris de veau et foie gras, (culinary question: was the veal sweetbreads flavored with marjoram, or interred in a sponge cake?) but veered off at the last moment to choose:

Ris de veau à la tomate fraîche et au paprika: browned veal sweetbreads sprinkled with flavorful diced tomatoes, served with a small amount of brown sauce, wilted spinach, and a paprika-dusted timbale of mousse of summer squash. A gratin dauphinois was served on a separate dish.

Saumon aux pignans de pin: Salmon with pine nuts, diced tomatoes and mushrooms served with rice on a white sauce. The pine nuts, big as peanuts and lightly roasted, accented this dish effectively.

An outstandingly tasty Camembert affiné was perhaps the most pleasing of the cheeses offered, but we also liked a satiny Reblochon soft enough to bulge under the edge of a blunt knife.

Fraisier: A strawberry cake not quite as fine as the one we had the previous evening at du Mail.

The total at Bellevue was F386.

After lunch we stopped for a while in the bar to admire the big wall picture depicting a convoy of barges being hauled upstream by straining horses. We noted the caption (translated from the Provençale of Fréderic Mistral):

Le lourd convoi s’ébranle et fendant l’eau rapide et tumultueuse lentement s’achemine vers Condrieu.

Our translation, perhaps laughably maladroit: The heavy convoy moves and cuts through the swift-flowing tumultuous water to make its way slowly towards Condrieu. 

***

Continuing south on the three-lane autoroute A7, we had a lesson in driving etiquette: in France, the rule "stay right except to pass" is taken seriously. 

We were stuck behind a car doing less than the limit (130 km/h) in the middle lane, when a woman in a small and not very powerful car pulled level with us on the right, screaming furiously that we were supposed to stay right. Of course we moved over. The angry woman then took off after the slowpoke, presumably to give him a similar admonition. Unfortunately for the cause of proper highway manners, she never caught up. We last saw her in the rear-view mirror, her car emitting a great deal of blue smoke as she fell father and farther behind.

Grâne

We drove up to the village past a sign proclaiming Grâne’s municipal attraction—VAST PARKING—thence through a narrow porte cochère into the restaurant’s stone-walled courtyard. What a lovely spot! Within minutes we were seated on a stone-flagged terrace in the shade of plane trees. The occasional stirring of a cool breeze was welcome on this warm afternoon. We had Arcens mineral water, a version of Badoit from the Vivarais region (present-day Ardèche), and later on a complimentary Kir and little oven-fresh pastries topped with hazelnuts. Then on to dinner.

We opted for a menu of regional items with wines chosen by the chef.

Tarte aux tomates et filets de rouget au fumet de safran was like a pizza on a puff-pastry base. The tomatoes yielded a genuine tomato taste and the postage-stamp sized red mullet pieces fish had enough flavor to stand out well. The chef’s choice of wine, Côteaux de Tricastin Grand Serre, was thin in texture with a faint burned character which we perceive in many white Côtes du Rhône.

Suprême de poularde malsoisine aux girolles: A sumptuous dish in which slices of a solid-textured roast chicken breast were stacked skin-side up on not one but two sauces: a thin, reddish brown with melded flavors of chicken and mushrooms, and beneath that a white sauce, relatively thick, with a flavor suggestive of cheese. Unfortunately, the dining room was rushed at the time, and the waitress did not have time to explain this interesting and successful dish. A pleasant, light-bodied but fruity and well-balanced Domaine Duerre 1989 Côtes du Rhône was an ideal accompaniment.

Culinary query: What is the meaning of malsoisine?

Plateau de fromages: Though the cheeses did not have a very prepossessing appearance, we found them excellent. Tomme de brebis, the same as we had here in February 1993, was again a standout. This cheese is produced on a small farm near Crest. Also pleasing were: chèvre mi-affiné, Roquefort, Reblochon, brie, and Camembert. The restaurant’s nut bread went very well with the cheeses, as did the remainder of the Duerre.

Nougat glacé: This delightfully crunchy version of the popular dessert was served with figs and berries.

Madame Giffon asked if we would be dérangés--disturbed, but we prefer the fractured-French translation "deranged"--if someone lit up a cigarette? We said we would be, and the gentleman desisted.

With coffee, the total at Patrick Giffon was F372.