This was spectacular. Well worth the extra effort to find a brasserie that focused on its French clientele rather than the tourist crowd. I identified it when reading a SMH review that mentioned the trend of high-end chefs opening more accessible and reasonably priced bistros and referred to the bistros of Alain Ducasse in Paris. There are two - Benoit and Aux Lyonnais. We chose Aux Lyonnais and found ourselves confronted with a French only menu specialising in the cuisine of Lyon (and a helpful waitress as some of the specific food items stretched my French vocab) and surrounded by Parisians. (I note that Benoit had a write up in the Eurostar magazine, but still think it would be worth a shot next time)
The atmosphere and the venue were superb. Once again, Le Gourmand was confronted by the menu. I jealously suggested that he try the charcuterie plate (Bruce dictated that I could not) but he dismissed this as too pedestrian (seeing it arrive at someone else's table, I assure you, it was not) and, despite his wariness of our fungal friends, ordered the morel omelette for entree. I am not a huge omelette fan but from the taste I had, it was superb and Le Gourmand was exceptionally pleased with his choice. Meanwhile I consumed les ravioles de Romans - an excellent plate of subtle, delicate cheese filled raviolini in a subtle parsley sauce. Parsley was to be a theme of my meal.
The greater struggle was with mains. Le Gourmand quickly realised that there was very little on the menu that met with his exacting tastes and he would need to be brave. He rose to the occasion and ordered the Boudin Noir - something I would never advise him to do outside of a French restaurant. Again I was jealous, the warnings about liver in pregnancy had left me wary of any offal (and I was not inclined to whip out the Blackberry to check if blood sausage was OK) and there seemed to be one reason or another why the other selections were problematic. Blindly I chose the écrevisses en persillade, a little wary of two parsley dishes in quick succession and expecting a smallish meal of crayfish meat, but not wanting to complain as Le Gourmand was manning up.
What followed was the best food of the trip. Le Gourmand adored the superbly executed
boudin noir rissolé, pommes fruits rôties - the apple accompaniment perfectly balanced the rich blood sausage. I was surprised when my écrevisses arrived in a large shallow casserole, piping hot from the kitchen, accompanied by a finger bowl. The finger bowl was my nod and wink that I should get my hands dirty and what followed was a forty-five minute marathon of extracting as much meat as possible from the vast quantity of halved crustaceans dripping in butter, garlic and parsley before me. My pregnant nose had immediately identified garlic permeating the restaurant when we arrived and I was thrilled that this was its source. I adore food that you engage with while you eat it and dissecting my meal was not only gastronomically satisfying but seemingly an athletic event.
Finally I was finished and the empty carcasses were swept away. Le Gourmand had watched my attack fascinated after he finished his meal. We were both satisfied but realised that we each had an important decision to make. Le dessert! I had been carefully observing the table of four beside us and there was quite a range to choose from. I was not disappointed by my outstanding chocolate moelleux with raspberry sauce. Le Gourmand was in raptures over his macaronade à la rhubarbe avec glace aux amandes.
We were sated!
http://www.auxlyonnais.com/
