I just ate calves' feet.

Of the three days that I spent in Lyon, France, there is so much to say. I could talk about how perfect my travel buddies were, about how we managed to seamlessly transport ourselves around the city. I could talk about our well-priced, clean hotel, the Rhône river, Old Lyon with its cobblestone streets and medieval architecture. I'd like to talk about the Basilique Notre-Dame Fourvière, the extravagant Café des Négociants--where I had the best hot chocolate of my life. I should probably mention the opera house, and the high-end shopping that I couldn't afford, the enormous Parc de la tête d'or, the zoo. However, all that rests in my mind from my trip to Lyon can be summed up in one word: bouchon.

Place de Bellecour

Next to the river, crossing over into Old Lyon

Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière

Inside the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière

Espresso and hot chocolate at the famous Café des Négociants

Parc de la tête d'or

A bouchon is a typical restaurant of Lyon, and I can tell you first hand that no one in France, perhaps no one in all of Europe eats like this. At a bouchon you eat for hours, and it feels like you are in someones' kitchen. The servers act more like impatient mothers and--if you've found a good one---you will fight for a table, if you get one at all. Although hundreds of restaurants in Lyon claim to be bouchons, there are only twenty "official" ones. I tried to learn how to know if one is official, and the only answers I found were if it said "veritable bouchon" on the front window, and if there were creepy marionette-like dolls below the certification. I went to two restaurants while in Lyon, Chez Mounier and Chabert et fils.

Chez Chabert et Fils...first bouchon experience

Our first night, we  took a look at the menu outside of Chabert et fils to see what the prices were like and had a moment of reproach: "Wait...aren't andouillettes...intestines?" "Pieds du porc?....Pigs feet?!" We walked down the street to find something more...American friendly. But every restaurant was the same. So, when in Rome. We did it up, and I ate things I never thought I'd eat. Here's the summary:

Chabert et fils...aka Night one...aka What the hell am I eating
1. Saladier Lyonnais-museau de boeuf, cocos, harengs, pommes à l'huile, pieds de veau
Translation: Salad of Lyon: cow snout/muzzle, beans, smoked herring, potatoes in oil, jellied calves feet

2. Saucisson chaud pistaché avec cervelle de canut et pommes vapeur
Translation: hot sausauge with pistachios, servet with a creamy cheese sauce and steamed potatoes
*cervelle de canut literally means "the brains of the silk-weaver" because in the 19th century it accompanied every meal for weavers (it's not actually their brains)

3. Le guignol-genoise du rhum, appareil à la creme brulée, cassonade, crème anglaise caramalisé
Translation: rum soaked sponge cake, cooked like creme brulée, with soft brown suger and caramalized crème anglaise.
*If you've never tried crème anglaise, stop reading and go do that right now. 

Chez Mounier...aka Night two...aka...been there, done that.
1. L'assiette des crudités
Translation: vegetable plate (nothing tricky here)

2. Quenelles au homard
Tranlation: a puff pastry served in a rich, creamy lobster sauce, with a side of puréed potatoes and sauteed mushrooms

Needless to say, I left Lyon not hungry. Well, maybe hungry to go back.