Lyon, France with June Jacobs and Paris-Brest at PlumLyon Cooking School

As with so many of life’s great adventures these days, this one began with an email: “I’m headed to Lyon, France, and have a GREAT flat there, want to come meet me?”. The email was from June Jacobs, New York based food and wine expert/writer.

Lyon was one of the only towns in France I had never been to. And oh, did I long to visit: its gastronomical wonder had tempted me for most of my Francophile and food-o-file life. I booked easyjet immediately.

The idea of being in Lyon with June Jacobs was too enticing to pass up. June LOVES Lyon, with the sort of affection that one has towards a person. She has spent as much time as she can there over the years: going to Lyon with June meant that my life during my visit would be like a gastronomic map of Lyon.

I knew I wanted to visit a few bouchons (Lyonnaise version of bistros), eat fromage de canuts, quenelles with sauce Nantua, or perhaps a Lyonnaise salad piled high with cured meats and the requisite poached egg. I wanted to shop in a farmers market or two as well as the glorious market of Paul Bocuse, and sit in a wine bar admiring whichever little pooch was sitting next to me.

June’s flat was located right in the center of town: so atmospheric, gorgeous architecture, ancient brick walls, and a huge art-deco downstairs door that I found myself standing in front of, a week or so after the email, shlepping my backpack and ringing the doorbell.

Staying in a flat meant we could cook: staying in Lyon meant that we had access to the most marvelous of foodstuffs: from the excellent breads, to the local cheeses (Lyon is in the vicinity of my favourite: Epoisses, which has a fascinating history of coming back from near extinction. A story for another time?). The cheese of Lyon would be St Marcellin, and after a week there, I became so nuanced to the various stages of St Marcellin: appreciating and sensing each temperature change in its aging, each blade of grass and each temperature variation that all contributed to the taste of the milk, that went into the cheese. I think I could taste the mood of the cows, too. In other words, what a joy to get to know something so well.

The other cheese speciality of Lyon is cervelles de Canut. Cervelles de Canut is literally silk-workers brains, as Lyon was once a silk-working center, and the substances the workers were exposed to were said to distroy their brains. But this charming story aside, oh this cheese is fabulous: curd cheese or a sort of ricotta/fromage frais, mixed with chopped shallots, garlic, chives, tarragon, chervil, maybe a drop or two of dry white wine. Its like the original onion dip, but so fresh!

Another great thing about hanging out with June, is that she is a wine expert. She would be in charge of the wine, I would be the one mostly in the kitchen. I could hardly wait.

We met up with Lucy Vanel of PlumLyon cooking school.  So you see, there is method to my madness, and yes, we really are going to get to the part about making a Paris-Brest.

Anyhow, I had always wanted to meet Lucy, as we had been internet buddies on the once upon a time heydey of the eGullet food website. June and Lucy went way back. We met up at the independant wine fair: a fair of independantly owned wineries from each region of France. It was a wonderful opportunity to taste with two experts: June and Lucy.  The immediacy of the wines: the variety of personalities and unique styles, artistic statements, gave rise to our giving them nicknames such as “shoes” for the glorious aroma of new leather/new shoes that one of the wines wafter. The smallest amount of wines one could buy was a case; Lucy wanted to choose a house red, white and sparkling, for her school. And, well, her house!

And then, of course, there were sandwiches……..