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Postcard from Lyon, France: Where good food regarded as ‘a birthright’

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Above: Polenta and asparagus buried below a mound of fresh leafy ‘weeds’ at Les Mauvaises Herbes

Hope you’re ready to feast your eyes again because here comes part two of our restaurant experiences in the capitol of French gastronomy.

The pig in the name Le Cochon qui Boit intimidated me at first. I knew I wasn’t ready for a menu that goes all whole-hog-centric, but this is a drinking pig. That sounded more up my alley. Once inside gazing at the daily menu, I realized one even could graze all-vegetable there if desired. A red cabbage and hazelnut salad as an amuse bouche quickly confirmed the kitchen’s talents in that arena.

An endive salad was topped with ultra-thin slices of coppa ham and almonds, while tender cauliflower was paired with olives and fresh chervil. Shredded parmesan hides a serving of beet ravioli, and that shiny beige mound that appears to be a dessert is actually whipped up roasted parsnips, as good as a dessert. The rectangular dark wedge is Cochon Noir Gascon, meat of the highly prized black pig of the high Pyranees. This tender pork arrived with wedges of panisse and spinach.

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Postcard from London, England: Creative kitchens debunk flawed stereotype

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Above: Watermelon, chickpea and feta salad at Ceru in South Kensington

There were two reasons why I waited so long to visit London. The first was that it seemed like cheating on getting a foreign experience when the natives all speak English. That excuse no longer applies, as most people we encounter while traveling in Europe speak fluent English, with an American accent due to all the Hollywood films they devour. British accents challenge my comprehension more than English spoken elsewhere.

The second bias I possessed was food. No mushy peas, please. That proves my ignorance. Today’s London offers so much more than the old standard pub grub I feared I would have to eat every single meal. Why did I ever wait so long to become enlightened?

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