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Henri Milan: naturally better wine in Provence

Henri Milan is a character. Still experimenting after thirty-three years at the helm of his Domaine Milan, the flamboyant and outspoken vigneron has produced a wide range of distinct wines from the 17 hectares set along the ancient Via Aurelia in Provence. The Frenchman inherited the beautiful provencal stone house and vineyards from his late father. The soil is his wealth – blue marl, like in some Grand Crus of Chablis, clay, gravel and limestone, while yellow sandstone compliments the red varieties (same as my favourite red in the South of France Château Rayas).

Henri Milan makes superb wines. The nods from top sommeliers far beyond the French borders join my pampered palate in praise. I saw Le Vallon at a distinguished wine list in San Francisco, while his two reds made it into the three Michelin stared Chef’s Table at Brooklyn Fare in New York. Milan’s resistance to conventions of the French wine laws reflects pure respect for the grapes, the unique soil and the wine itself. The rebelliousness is imprinted in the changing labels and blends that may confuse customers, but the taste is what counts. First organic then he listened to the moon, the soil and nature’s rhythms converting into biodynamics. Now he subscribes to the natural wine movement, adding a minimum of stabilising sulphur only when necessary. As a seasoned taster I am wary of the “sans soufre ajouté” wines since faults often stick their awkwardly smelling antennae out and do not tend to last for decades in one’s cellar. Henri Milan makes some of his wines without added sulphites, and he is sensitive to each vintage, trust him.

Domaine Milan, naturally

Ironically, the first time I tasted his natural wines was at Les Grands Chais Monegasques, the oldest wine shop in Monaco. A few months later as we drove by Saint-Rémy-de-Provence during the summer, and also closed the year tasting at his ‘cabanon’ – in fancy terms a boutique winery.
The Merlot in Le Jardin by Henri Milan seduced us with the first sip, the enchanting green pepper nose, animal wilderness with a refreshing minty aftertaste like garden reveal their charms as you enter deeper through its herbal, violet, black currant perfume. A distinct white wine is also made under the same blue label – La Carée falls under the appellation of Les Beaux en Provence.

Vin de Table, St Rémy de Provence
I was also fond of the single vineyard white Rhone blend of Le Grand Blanc that he has organically made since 1989. The blend of Grenache Blanc, Chardonnay (in some years), Rolle, Roussanne, Muscat a Petits Grains and what works in each vintage was once awarded award of excellence by 800 independent Rhône tasters. The current, layered floral drawing on the label captures this flamboyant beauty that as a humble “vin de table” outsmarts even the greatest Hermitages.
The hipster winemaker of Provence makes better natural wine than anyone else in France. During our first visit to the winery his “Le Presk’ Orange” stroke my palate so much that I begged for three bottles. The almost orange Rolle (Vermentino) was macerated like some Pinot Grigios in Northern Italy for long enough (10 days) to release more golden dust into the otherwise pale yellow wine. A total of 292 bottles were produced in 2015 so I was a lucky vagrant that Henri Milan fit in. The simple label with a crossed O in the ORANGE title even acknowledges that P. Lardot sparked the idea to make the wine in this style. This was certainly one of the best of the quirky orange category that I have tasted in my geeky wine life. At home, paired with a cep parmesan risotto, this ‘unfancy’ bottle opened our festive night with freshness and depth.

For most, the lively, vibrant labels were designed by local artists that Henri Milan befriended.
The vigneron also makes these red wines:
Le Clos and C.L.O.S. (we tried the barrique aged, non-filtered 2007 blend of Grenache, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon offered also at the Brooklyn Fare), SX is a pure Grenache, while the Pinot Noir is still in its infancy with optimistic hopes sprayed from Henri Milan himself, “it’s not perfect, not yet”, he confessed. We liked the juicy fruit eloquent in tis youth, and with patience over two days the king of reds unleashed its complex spell on us back at home. Henri’s son was recently allowed to bottle his own Haru that with the calligraphy on the label one may confuse it with a sake, yet the pure Cabernet Sauvignon is of the French breed, not bad.

The winemaker’s dog cannot be a better reflection of his master. Focused, present yet owning the place.
Henri Milan also has a rosé sparkling wine without added sulphites. Not rose per se, rather a cherry-tinted white wine. The Zebra swallowtail butterfly on the label with its unique wing shape and with long tails personifies the experience from tasting this unusually delicious bubbly. A blend of Grenache Noir and Mourvèdre, the Brut Nature has a zero dosage. Made by the méthode traditionnelle from his grapes this is the only label in the Henri Milan stable that is outsourced to a facility where two fermentations and the upside down turning of the fizzing bottles prior to the disgorgement take place. Like for most small wineries in Provence bottling bubbles, the machinery is too expensive and requires additional space. As the last day of the year was ticking off, we jolly joined in not spitting out before our journey to Marseille for a three Michelin meal at Le Petit Nice.

We only introduce our closest friends to the best wineries we know. Our east-bound visitors were thrilled not least with the setting of the rustic winery branching out the ancient Via Aurelia where most of the vines are planted, but bought as much as they could carry. Special wines must be shared with those you care about and Henri Milan ranks in the best in Provence for us!

God's blessing and nature crafted into wine by the monks at Abbaye de Lérins

A brief boat ride from Cannes or Juan Les Pins into the azure Mediterranean 16-centuries of monastic life on l’île Saint-Honorat meets the tech-age. The industrious Benedictine monks of Abbaye de Lérins tend their organic maritime land that grows their food, make wine, digestive liqueurs, olive oil, jams, honey, herbal tisanes and pray seven times every day. These modest men found inner peace and balance though brotherhood, communal labor and their awareness of the divine – God and nature. The wines are great too.
The idyllic setting takes your breath away as you sail by. My soul poked me to disembark to one of the most beautiful islands in the Mediterranean. The prospect of silence drew me in.

Entering the sea-guarded eden of the Abbaye de Lérins monks in the peak of summer season though can steal the piety. Still, visiting the Abbey Notre Dame, the monastery Tower and the rustic chapels feels strikingly different from the Cannes-infused intensity of the neighbouring island. You can set up a picnic under the pine shades also on the Sainte Marguerite island, but Saint Honorat is the private property of the monks, therefore their rules must be respected. Do not take your shirt off (some break the rules as my camera below witnessed) and quietly savour the monastic acceptance of the present moment. Off season – October till April – only the church bells and chirping seagulls play the enchanted ears.

Although the 20 to 22 monks tend the land mainly themselves, outside help was enrolled. There are two full-time vignerons and volunteers can sign up online for the annual harvest. The once per month (on the first Friday) guided tour and wine tasting focuses on organic viticultural practices and winemaking in detail. The annoying black flies have to be managed naturally. A protective snowy clay is showered over the vines and the olive trees to detract the undesirable insects. Butterflies’ caterpillars destroy the vine leaves, so male pheromones are used to prevent them from laying eggs. “No sex on the island of monks!”, remarked our guide (not a monk himself) with a giggle. Fans dispel heat, while the sturdy olive trees protect from strong sun in summer, break gushing winds in the fall and spring and capture the occasional splash of salty seawater that the vines do not need. Over the course of the past three years the harvest starts one week earlier in September because of the warmer climate.

After a field visit in the vineyards, back in the shop the tasting includes only one entry level white and red wine. We tasted the cuvée Saint Pierre – 70% Clairette (made in stainless steel) with Chardonnay (aged for 6 months in a medium toasted oak from the Forest of Tronçais in Central France) that was floral with stone fruit and a bright acidity. Refreshing, not rich. The Syrah 2014 Saint Honorat was approachable and juicy. Dark fruit like cassis, pepper, black currant, stone minerality from the rocks deep under the soil, dry tannins, with up to eight seconds lasting aftertaste would make for a great food wine.
You can buy other bottles at the store (10%off on the day of visit) or indulge in the wines during a hearty Mediterranean lunch at the casual La Tonnelle restaurant owned by the Abbey as we did. The award winning (Bordeaux 2018) buttery Sainte Ombeline Chardonnay was so rich, batonnage (stirring of lees) with a touch of French oak, that it matched a burrata with pesto and tomatoes as well as stuffed fried courgettes at La Tonnelle perfectly. The generous petits farcis (minced meat stuffed grilled vegetables) also welcomed the divine gold nectar with a sigh of good acidity. On a hot day, the gazpacho freshens you up.

European monks have made wine for centuries, at the Abbaye de Lérins since the 10th century, but it was only consumed internally by the monks community here. Commercial wine production took off some 25 years ago. Unlike the drinking water deprived Porquerolles islands nearby, the lush gardens of Saint Honorat were blessed with an undersea pipe channelling the spring water to the island from the mountains above Cannes. There are eight hectares under the vines. The 60-80 years-old vines yield complex cuvèes and expensive single varietal wines, while the younger plants are made into approachable, easy drinking and saintly titled bottles.

White and red wines are crafted reportedly not for fast consumption but to age. The tiny production of Viognier is made into the pricy single varietal Saint Cyprien (€65 shop/€150 at the restaurant), an intense white wine. The monks tried to make a rosé, but it looked so bright pink due to the silt, sandy clay-limestone soil here that consumers were vary to purchase it. A spicy and full-bodied Syrah from older vines in Saint Sauveur needs about a decade to mature, while the Pinot Noir (Saint Salonius €198/ at La Tonnelle) and Mourvèdre (Saint Lambert €175/La Tonnelle) can be drunk earlier.

As you stroll through the island on the pine-shaded dirt roads, passing the minimalist chapels, vineyards and the fortified monastery facing the open edge of the Mediterranean, your mind steps into a deep serenity of the place. The visit of Abbaye de Lérins is like a spiritual bath in the sea. The majestic walled cloister from the 12-13th centuries next to the arched alleys and abundant flora houses the monks dormitories (closed to public) and the main Notre Dame church. Anyone can attend a daily mass at 11:25 am on weekdays, 9:50 am on Sunday and 11 am on holidays.

Set off the Cannes coast, a regular ferry from the old port of Cannes and Juan les Pins conveniently ships you over. You can even stay overnight (two nights min, one week max) at the modest hostel, where both genders are welcome. The rate is by donation that the guest decides personally. Beware, bring your own sheets or sleeping bag as well as towels since these are not provided. Each Easter (4-10 March in 2019) a spiritual retreat for the religious welcomes these serious about fasting.

Although austerity and modesty are praised, the monks of Abbaye de Lérins do not live in Medieval times, and their modernised contact with the broad Christian community stretches beyond in-person encounter. The monks’ blog shares the fruits of their labour and the Abbé of the Notre Dame, Vladimir Gaudrat took to Twitter years ago. Economically self-sustaining, the monks also sell herbal and fruit liquors, natural cosmetics, religious books and objects produced by other monasteries. Sweet biscuits, chocolates and natural oils join the monastery shop offer.

Hostellerie Jérôme La Turbie

In an ambitious and advance-driven time when a change of chef or culinary concept can spoil your next gastronomic experience at a renowned restaurant, Hostellerie Jérôme is the guardian angel of taste. The chef was never replaced since Bruno Cirino took over the historic restaurant and inn in La Turbie. Owning his family business with his wife Marion, the enumerate sommelier, who knows her precious stock of French treasures like diamonds in a jewellery box, gave them the liberty of creation.

Hostellerie Jérôme: a special place

Hostellerie Jérôme is perched above the Monaco’s rocky coast, and it takes about 25 minutes of a nauseating drive, so set off well ahead of your dinner reservation. Acquiring the sea-facing fringe of the ancient La Turbie village with the Mediterranean pine-like curve of Cap Ferrat in the horizon, the pentacle of tables on the terrace are highly desirable. The much larger frescoed vault was painted in the style of Pompeii, yet the interior hardly beats fresh Maritime air and a view stretching over the Bay of Angels grasping even the horn of Cap d’Antibes. Perhaps for the vista and as a strategic post, the inn lodged Napoleon Bonaparte in 1796.

Regaining his second Michelin star this year after it was taken away in 2014, the powerful red book nods to Bruno Cirino’s cuisine of “unusual humility, lively and light, imaginative, marked by its terroir, but free and spontaneous. Always renewed, never similar, it draws its strength from its direct link with its farmers, breeders, fishermen, market gardeners.” Beyond the paragraph uttered by Michelin, our dinners at Hostellerie Jérôme over the past four years were spotless, except for one Monday evening when my favourite ravioli were served not warm enough, red mullet slightly overcooked, and the blow blasted by a mishandled coffee at the end. An off service, but on most good days currently this is the best fine dining in Côte d’Azur for us.
The chef is a master of local ingredients. When Bruno Cirino cooked on the Atlantic coast in St Jean de Luz over three decades ago, he was reportedly the most difficult buyer of vegetables at the Biarritz market, and has not let his guard off when moving to the Mediterranean with his wife Marion, a former harpist that he met at the Royal Monceau in Paris, where he cheffed for a while.
Marion as the host ushers you to your white-clad table. Soon, light series of amouse-bouche entertain the mouth with an aperitif. In summer, a refreshing tomato gazpacho with green herbal sorbet and elegant marinated tomato tarts with red and spring onions. Followed by herb pesto in olive oil and blanched almond dip for the bread assortment of crispy sticks, savoury gougères filled with melting hard cheese or bricks of focaccia. A continuous flow of Michette, a typical Provencal roll dusted with cracked wheat is so wholesomely aromatic and champs so satisfyingly, that it can make a meal. Its ally, a cube of the deepest yellow grass-grazed butter from Brittany made by Le Ponclet family farm, gently salted and topped with fresh seasonal flowers like fennel, tastes of the summer meadows. A plate of crab claw, once dressed in white almond puree, raw almonds and garden leafs, other time the chef added peeled white grapes with herbs, superb! You won’t be charged for any of these, but the price reflects in the other plates. The choice of pottery is like the cuisine at Hostellerie Jérôme a blend of local tradition and contemporary purity. Heavy colourful terracotta mingles with glass and pristine white bowls, squared modern platters and design spoons.

Mediterranean treasures

A kind and rather restrained team of international, young apprentices serves the Mediterranean garden, the sea’s treasures next to the French delicacies like pigeon, the chef’s signature and his wife’s favourite dish.
The menu does not change radically at Hostellerie Jérôme. Slight seasonal variations transform the familiar plates though. My revered Ravioli with buffalo milk cheese, mushrooms and black truffles starter lost their vegetarian value as the chef added to this perfection the redundant crayfish. The delicate buffalo cheese is made in-house, and the raw mushrooms vary. When porcini are not provided by the foragers, the prised, young, orange-lined Caesar’s mushrooms shaped like an egg (hence their Italian name “ovoli”) step in. A shaving of parmesan seals the land’s Franco-Italian flavours.

Lighter, more purist are the San Remo Gamberoni “Il violetto d’Oneglia” served with preserved wild fennel, Bellini juice and crystallised verbena, hazelnut butter and capers. The verbena-scented and wrapped in new almond crust Mediterranean langoustines are the last of the only three staples to start with.
In the mains, local fish plays high note. Galinette (gurnard) with wild fennel is served in two stages. The fillets of Rougets (red mullet) is the one risky dish at Hostellerie Jérôme I would not order again after having it overcooked. Incredible though was Mostelle (Forkbeard), a bycatch fish that is captured while searching for rock fish. In texture similar to hake from the same fish family, smooth, served on a generous carpaccio of porcini mushrooms with olive oil. The winner.

The best ingredients only

Seafood is not exclusive on the menu as the Sambucano lamb from the Alps with zucchini, sweet garlic and thyme excels, and the Pigeon in its reconstructed entirety is cooked so perfectly, that after trying it from a friend’s plate I would dare, which I never do after many bloody disappointments at top French restaurants. Served in its reduction with succulent roasted mushrooms.
Cheese selection from Toulouse based MOF (Meilleur Ouvrier de France) Xavier, also trusted by Michel Guérard and other Michelin chefs, lands on a wooden horizon engraved with swallows, the vintage trolley. In dried-fig leaf wrapped Banon, Persille de Tignes from Savoie and Bichonnet are superb for goat cheese lovers, while not usually a fan of blue cheese, the Bleu de Severac from Aveyron was not too overpowering, and the Basque Ossau fermier hard sheep’s delicacy affirmed the savoury joy.

Desserts at Hostellerie Jérôme show seasonal fruits in not too embellished, direct beauty. During summer cherries, peaches and strawberries show up, but my choice were the ravishing Roasted country figs, black sugar olives with a buffalo milk sorbet. Les Petites Fours are exquisite, please keep space for the toasted Piedmont hazelnuts served bare next to succulent ripe figs in August, more savoury than sweet olive and hazelnut tartlets that turn me into a ravenous ‘hungryvore’, and the nice ganache enrobed in dark chocolate that goes well with coffee. A shame though that the exquisitely Giamaica coffee from Verona’s master roaster Gianni Frasi, the last torrefacteur in the world to roast his beans directly with an open flame, was terribly prepared. We know his coffee very well, since we visited and tasted the best cup of espresso in our life from his own hands in Verona. It was over-pressured, while a crack in one of the cups sealed the disaster.

Commendable wine list offering a fair deal on the Riviera

The 30.000 wine bottles in the cellar at Hostellerie Jérôme La Turbie received the 2018 “Tour des Cartes” prize for the “best wine list of a gourmet restaurant.” The prices are reasonable, great deal even. We usually go local with bottles from the Southern France. Château Rayas 2000 for 250€, Chave’s Hermitage for 300€ are rare prices on the Riviera’s wine lists. A warning, we have consumed most of Mme Cirino’s stock of Rayas, the scarcely distributed Châteauneuf-du-Pape tasting like no other wine in its region. Unusual for this southern Rhône appellation and unlike its more famous Chateau de Beaucastel, the 100% Grenache Noir, Rayas ages with grace, each vintage telling the story of its challenges as well as the good days. Typically, deep cherry, can touch on smoke, spiciness and in good vintages (most), a refreshing acidity with a very long finish. Domaine Tempier is the best producer in Bandol making age-worthy single vineyard red wine blends of predominantly Mourvedre with Grenache, Cinsault and Carignan. Another great local option.

Hostellerie Jérôme is set at the foot of the Trophée des Alpes marking the victory of Augustus the Emperor over the Ligurian troops. The family runs also the more budget-friendly Café de la Fontaine facing the main village thoroughfare. A hearty Provencal cuisine not discounting on the quality of the regional produce is cooked simply in a rustic style. We prefer either over the nearby overhyped Mirazur in Menton.

20 Rue Comte du Cessole, 06320 La Turbie, France

+33 4 92 41 51 51

Daily from 7pm, one seating only. Closed from November till April. AMEX not accepted.

Le Petit Nice in Marseille: chef Gérald Passedat transforms invisibly the Mediterranean sea

In the intrepid hands of a third generation family, the chef Gérald Passedat has transformed his iconic centenarian Le Petit Nice restaurant and hotel to the most luxurious, yet authentic cocoon in Marseille. Inspired by the women and men in his family, most of them passionate cooks or opera singers, Gérald Passedat transformed the simple cuisine of the Mediterranean into a three Michelin star experience that he has upheld since 2008.

Passedat hotel

Still, the success of his gastronomic oeuvre is dedicatedly overseen by his father. Jean-Paul Passedat greets guests in the bright, sea-facing reception hall and, if your French parlance allows for, eagerly shares his life experience by and on the sea. The chef’s British bulldog Leon nonchalantly joins the warm family welcome suite. On the terrace he strolls from a table to table and perhaps since he is not allowed into the dining room, lures out any food passing through your fingers. Leon is the well-behaved mascot of Le Petit Nice, but once he gets a ball tossed out, he wants more, let’s play! We fell in love with this sad-eyed dude and the airy, boutique Relais et Châteaux hotel crashing on the rocky cliffs hanging down into the Mediterranean. Eat and stay. The family hotel cum restaurant embraces your sense for a chic, breezy design and fine cuisine.

Tuning to the Mediterranean nature

The sea-kissed cuisine at Le Petit Nice by Passedat in Marseille resembles conceptually the pure essence of nature seeking food at the two star Mirazur on the Italian border with France, but is more enjoyable. Radiating the integrity of the locally-raised chef, the providers of his precise catch and nature’s produce star on the menu. Olive oil, garlic, seafood and salt flag Passedat’s Marseille plates in “intermingling of the culture of a port with the salty spray of the sea as it drifts from afar, bringing with it all the fantasies one imagines from constantly scanning distant horizons”, highlights the chef. Fish is caught very far from the shore, said Monsieur Passedat senior, and his son alerts: ”All our dishes and desserts may vary according to the catch and the market. The Mediterranean rules. The service of this menu depends on the rarity of the products.” Therefore, your meal may slightly differ from your last experience at Le Petit Nice. Gérald Passedat is the Alain Passard of the sea. At Le Petit Nice he rarely adds dairy (his favourite brousse du Rove fresh goats’ curds features in his bistros, while butter and cheese plate are optional) and doesn’t add salt as the seafood itself provides a generous dose of sodium. The food is far from bland, it is seasoned with nature. BOUILLONS for shellfish and seafood essentially balance or underline the sea flavours in the dishes at Le Petit Nice. From a portable cabinet you are invited to create your own bouillon to be brewed with the amouse-bouche. If you select one of the tasting menus as we always do at La Petite Nice, then having one personalised dish feels liberating.

Fresh, sun-kissed vegetables, fish and seafood and Mediterranean herbs are his favourite tools expressing the naturally blessed region. With changing seasons, lemons welcome the year, then strawberries give way to peaches, melon, ripe succulent figs, while apples and pears round up the fall desserts.

The marine experience at Le Petit Nice

There are twelve cooks and fifteen in the high, summer season. Like ants pacing in and out of the kitchen between a narrow walkway of their convenient housing, their labour is transparent. In a Bourdain-like “no reservations” fashion, zoom through the large windows peeking from the outside and inside upon entering the reception hall, you see it all.

In summer, an aperitif with pre-appetisers are served outdoors to indulge the vista of the Château d’If and the Planier lighthouse. Accompanied by the concert of crashing waves, a baby octopus wrapped in a deep fried pastry, an artichoke in a crisp tartlet topped with microplaned dried eggplant, and a very salty (probably cooked in seawater!) fish broth with your choice of local herbal infusion (sage, rosemary leaves, and various flowers) swim onto your table.

Moving inside to the bright, crisp, sea-inspired dining room, tables clad in white robes, the waiters herd in proper appetisers. A raw oyster with thin shavings of organic vegetables under a sea bream carpaccio, another but larger, so clean and pure tasting on a tongue melting oyster and a trio of fish beignets with fish emulsion, all at once. I was turning into a mermaid.

There is a la carte, but the set menus better translate the chef’s culinary marine philosophy. When compared to the most decadent Discover the Sea (380 €) menu comprising 13 courses of sea infused pleasure with a subtle sweet finale, currently the most affordable 100th ANNIVERSARY MENU (110 €) is a gift to connoisseurs from the centenarian hotel and restaurant.

Decadence was also our superb New Years Eve dinner at La Petite Nice. A quiet affair with sublime food. This menu sourced from the a la carte plates. From shallow waters came now rare and under-appreciated Sea Anemone Fritters (seasonally a Rainbow wrasse fish fritters are served instead), Southern Fish in Caravan (another signature plate of raw oysters with other shellfishes cut like a carpaccio) and Corolla. Moving to deep seas with four fish plates that included the delicate Lucie Passedat Sea Bass provided by Felix (fisherman), a signature first plate ever created by Gérald Passedat for Le Petit Nice as a tribute to his grandmother “as this was her favourite fish. A slice of steamed sea bass, colourful ribbons of courgette and cucumber, a medley of light and dark greens laid on an intensely flavourful “base”. Red and green tomatoes, lemon, basil, coriander, wild fennel, olive oil and a touch of truffle – a reminder of my family’s roots in the Quercy region”, muses the family-bound chef. Followed by another signature fish, the Red Mullet provided by Veronique, then entrusting to the whims of the sea with Alain’s catch of the day; and finally “Guite” Sea Garden. From the land came organic seasonal vegetables with their juice extractions.

In the sweet realm the chef needs to balance the salty pungency of the meal with subtle desserts, therefore “no butter, no cream, no alcohol and very little sugar, but plenty of fresh fruit, mango, papaya, yuzu or sweet chestnuts, with a delicious milky-textured Calpis or some fermented milk, with an acidic counterpoint, flavoured with fruit vinegars and my herbes de vif. Chocolate is one thing I do love from dry land”, confesses the chef. Our NYE desserts were “Coming up Slowly” in a suite of three delicacies expressing more the purity of the produce than any pretentious pastry tra-la-la. Turmeric & Cocoa in three services (by the French chocolatier François Pralus, whose Melissa, Fortissima or Sao Tomé are used at La Petite Nice) one bowl is warm and cold with avocado, the other is made with turmeric, aloe vera, and pineapple, and last with bay leaf roasted pineapple; all refreshing but deep, not overpowering. We loved the subtlety. Chocolate also plays a part in The Chrysalis of a chocolate caramel filled with Abysse Noir chocolate, orange, imperial mandarin.

This summer we embarked on the signature “bouille abaisse” in the chef’s two words, a fish soup menu that the chef introduced about five years ago. Local specialty deconstructed into a three star fancy that must be booked in advance. “The fish is added in three lots (whereas convention requires just two), three diving stages to keep those wonderful sea flavours”, explains the chef, adding “First the raw shellfish, like the ones I used to collect in the Calanques when I was a child – eaten with small fillets of rainbow wrasse, the “small fry”. We were served raw clams, mussels (looking like pink fish liver) and shellfish carpaccio on a bed of fresh palm cabbage drizzled with olive oil, parsley, lemon zest and juice. A sea foam on top added to the austerity that can only appreciated by serious seafood lovers or these who grew up sipping shellfish straight from the sea. The sea bounty was provided by Jean-Claude et Philippe “Stache”.

“Then come the fish from the shallower waters, like anglerfish and weever, which vary with the seasons and with what the Mediterranean brings up, which are plunged into a light saffron bouillon.” Our second serving of the bouille abaisse was an amazing saffron broth with green vegetables and four fishes with their skin on, a juicy lobster tail and a side of organic vegetables in a saffron broth. In summer we were served:

Rouget – red mullet that tasted so different from grilled, moist and firm

Ruca – a silver skin shallow water catch that tasted as delicate as an egg white

Marbre – richer, chewier dark skinned

Monkfish – dry, melting like milled fish meat

“Finally, the fish from the deep waters, like the large scaled scorpion fish or the sea bass – cooked whole to retain maximum moistness – a thick rockfish soup, potatoes cooked in the fish stock and a real fisherman’s spicy sauce, made with tomatoes, chilli and garlic.” A fish trio of light and soft Vive, Skate and an amazing Mullet with rather dry and meaty bite, yet moist and seasoned with anise. On another plate came superb langoustines with saffron, but the cooked potato with an ultra fishy, saffron rich bouillabaisse cooked with small crabs that was poured over was so intense that I could not ladle another spoonful. Instead of a rouille, spicy “real fisherman’s” sauce kicked our palates with an intensity of a sea storm. Indeed “The abyss”.

Cheese from Philippe Olivier and Benoit Lemarie are paraded on the sductive chariot. There is local fresh goat’s and sheep’s, a wide selection from Provence, Banon, Roquefort, Corsican hard sheep and other well and less-known French cheeses. An irresistible bread roll pinched through with straws of hay, fig and walnuts is is served with it, I had to ask for extra, too good.

After all that salty food, a change of water on our table to clean our palates announced the sweet, yet subtle indulgence to come.

The Softness pre-dessert of a roasted peach, peach sorbet and vinegar, almond milk foam, a peach carpaccio with aromatic saffron jelly and souffléd rice crisps was superb, got my cravings going for the main desert. Yet again in a multi-plate cocoa and fruit inspired fantasy, the excellent Cocoa bean was similar to the NYE chocolate dessert I had, just the winter persimmon passed its season so the exotic pineapple stepped in. The bean was caramelized with muscovado sugar and spiced with turmeric jam, a slice of avocado and cocoa cream contrasted with a a Turmeric sorbet and a light Pistachio cream, a sip of pineapple and turmeric smoothie freshened it up, while pineapple pate de fruit in cubes and sweet pineapple water foam brought another dimension of textures and it was quite light. The petits fours arranged in a wooden box and silver bowl came with the digestive coffee or tea. Le Petit Nice presented organic ripe seasonal fruits such as wild raspberries and cherries from Luberon in June, but also tiny délices like with cocoa dusted bonbon, celery tartlet and a crunchy sesame candy presented in a bowl of cocoa nibs.

The wine list focuses on France, offers some grande Champagne, Burgundy, Bordeaux, Loire and Rhone, but also local producers paired their vinous know-how with the sensibility of Gérald Passédat in the white CASSIS PASSÉDAT Domaine Clos SAINTE MAGDELEINE; the BANDOL ROSÉ CALANQUES, CUVÉE GÉRALD PASSEDAT, CHÂTEAU GUILHEM TOURNIER, and the more structured creation of Dominique Hauvette, the BAUX DE PROVENCE, ROSÉ HAUVETTE that suits bouillabaisse or lobster. The Rosé Calanques was deep, characteristic for the Bandol region further east along the Mediterranean coast. Further to the Rhone, the extraordinary Chateauneuf du Pape by Château Rayas, plenty of Burgundies (I recommend the Domaine des Lambrays, Clos de Lambrays) ideal for the light sea-focused meal and Grand Cru champagne such as the yeast-deep late disgorged 1990 vintage Jacquesson 1990 vintage, Avize that we toasted the NYE with.

Le Petit Nice also includes digestive herbs grown around Marseille and blended by Herboristerie du Père Blaize into his signature tisanes. After the gastronomic dinner TÊTE DU MALVALLON with thyme, anise and fennel is the most digestive of all.

The chef’s sensibility to the aromas of nature elevated Le Petit Nice from a great family restaurant to a gastronomic destination luring the outside world into his kitchen. The hotel rooms above have been decorated like a super yacht so you feel like sailing into the Mediterranean. It is just out there behind the window. For a more casual meal, the intimate Albertine in the port, and newly build MUCEM museum in Marseille houses a mini Passedat gourmet emporium Le Môle Passédat:

La Table « bistrot chic » for lunch and dinner

La Cuisine restaurant « casual » lunch only

Le Café during the opening hours of Mucem

Les Kiosques

and a cooking school in the Fort Saint Jean. In Provence, in the greenery of the Parc National du Lubéron the chef developed the gastronomic concept for the restaurant in the art and wine driven Domaine de Château La Coste.

Anse de Maldormé, Corniche JF Kennedy, 13007 Marseille
+33 4 91 592 592
Lunch and dinner: Tue – Sat; closed Sunday & Monday. Contact for annual closure dates such as the week starting January 1st every year.

Flaveur: brotherly exotic touch on Michelin gastronomy in Nice

Flaveur’s contemporary, by the sea-inspired design illustrates that its skeleton was built with the Mediterranean genes of its two head French chefs – the Tourteaux brothers, while its culinary flesh reflects the surrounding environment of their intrepid lives. Like sun tanning the skin, wind turning the cheeks red, exotic travels and a childhood in Guadeloupe coloured the face of the brothers’ first culinary duet. Evasion is the theme at this Niçoise two Michelin stared restaurant.

The sea is represented by wood-carved fish and pebbles, while olive branches adorning the walls at Flaveur maintain the accent on the Mediterranean. The French brothers fly in their exotic travel experiences to flatter to the local, seasonal ingredients such as asparagus, fish, lemon and wild herbs. Their transcendental approach yielded well-deserved two Michelin stars in 2018.

The finest meal in Nice, like a fine painting, Flaveur profoundly impacts on our overjoyed senses. The foreign spices dance vibrantly around, highlighting the fresh local ingredients. Gaël Tourteaux gained his starry gastronomic experiences with the chef Michel del Burgo (Executive Chef of Hotel de Bristol and the three Michelin-starred Taillevent in Paris), at Nice’s Negresco with the acclaimed chef Alain Llorca, and later with the Japanese perfectionist Keisuke Matsushima. His brother Mickaël also worked with these chefs, sweeping in the southern culinary mecca – Moulin de Mougins.

Floral cum shoots art on the plate permeates the dining experience. Always served in a crystal sea urchin bowl and white organically shaped porcelain the trio of appetisers evoke the sea and plants. Once, a Half-cooked Scottish salmon with Combawa and Granny Smith apple salsa, Haloumi and Kiwano relished in tiny mouthfuls was intriguing kicking with the Combawa (kaffir lime), the sensible seasoning cut the fatty richness of the fish. This summer the “iodine” trio included: Broccoli and chervil atop a bonito patè with gomasio (Japanese sesame seasoning) – nice, dried flossy beef like in China on a crisp coin, a superb aligot (a gooey potato cream) with quinoa souffle, turmeric, cucumber and herbs; and very rich and salty pork lard colonnata with sprouts, smoked fish, black truffles – not to our taste.
When the season sparks with wild ingredients, the chefs forage in the nearby mountains for wild asparagus, oxalis, flowers like violet, but also spring wild garlic and onions. Otherwise, the fragrant herbs are sourced from a local producer, the Auda family.

Gaël et Mickaël Tourteaux propose multi-course menus from €60 at lunch. The shorter Spice Road discovery menu encouraged the next visit extending to “Plaisir”, now titled “Exploration Toutes Latitudes”.
Rice crisps topped with smoked mackerel, citruses and herbs. Bordier butter served with freshly cut cresson shoots, chopped dried black olives and flowers next to coriander spiced crisp bread. Later, the local Jean Marc Bordonnat bakery provides the bread basket offered to your ceaseless indulgence. A ginger and coriander bread bun, olive or just plain or brown slice.

Half-cooked Scottish salmon with Combawa and Granny Smith apple salsa, Haloumi and Kiwano

Next usually come two fish courses from Carras, one of the last fishing ports in Nice. Tony a Christiane Djian are the restaurant’s main suppliers. A marinated Swordfish on Carnaroli risotto with shaved Bellet (local hills) vegetables was a zesty starter. The mains can include a Mediterranean Drum fish, Champonzu and gyoza ravioli, in Christophine and Colombo bouillon. Something like a Yellowtail and Shrimps with summer vegetables (courgette, green zebra tomatoes skin, young potatoes) in a iodine bouillon, Indian Vadouvan spice sauce, and fresh almonds with girolles or Tandoori Monkfish with Black Rice cream and Grilled Clementines. Usually superb, clean, focused and not overtly saucy.
An optional meat plate can include Provençal Suckling Lamb or Beef from Piedmont, the nearby Italian region. The lamb is prepared to tenderness, but my husband’s recent tiny cut of beef with aubergine, tamarind and wild pepper was just too seasoned for his purist preference to meat. Indian flavours took over the Flaveur menu, even Garam Masala joined the eastern seasonings.

The sweet temptation at Flaveur is preset in the dinner menu. This summer, a Black nougat with halva, fresh dates and fruit kefir (the fermentation trend has landed in Côte d’Azur) and a contemporary take on the local pompe à l’huile d’olive. The later pastry, scented with orange flower water, is one of the 13 Provençal Christmas desserts. Previously, the Grand Cru chocolate with Tellicherry black pepper from Kerala, India hit my cocoa-craving tooth precisely. These large peppercorns are characteristic for their rich, aromatic citrus and floral notes. Later, the petits fours served with coffee or tea pluck remaining sugar longings. An Indian spice mix with tobacco (contains nicotine) known as Pan Massala inspired the sweet morsels recently, but Menton lemon and crepes Suzette whiff in local taste.
Coffee and tea selection are above the mediocre standards for French, leave alone Michelin star restaurants. Exclusive coffee pickings from the Jamaican Blue Mountain and superb Chinese teas alongside herbal and fruity infusions satisfy any clear head preferring drinkers. Organic iced tea from Menton, and juicy mixes add summer freshness to the non-alcoholic beverage menu.

The all-French wine list encompasses all important regions in the country. For lunch, a glass of balanced and floral Southern French white from Domaine Joncquières – “C et C de Béarn Lansade” IGP Pays de l’ Hérault 2013 accompanied the light menu perfectly. La Truffière Vermentino (Rolle) was a bright spark to the dinner tasting recently. With a wide changing offer by the glass (about 20 including sweet and digestif wines, most around €10) it is tempting to sip along with the sommelier’s mood. The evening will be long, since the food arrives in a very slow pace. With as much as half an hour between each course to spare, you either need an extremely eloquent company or at least a bottle to share. The waiters are very nice, but certainly geared in the Côte d’Azur speed mode, so be patient, mindful of the gastronomic experience.

Lunch: Tue-Fri: 12noon-2pm

Dinner: Tue-Sat: 7:30pm-10pm; Summer closing each August (call for annually changing dates)

25 Rue Gubernatis, 06000 Nice, France

+ 33 4 93 62 53 95

Arpège: Alain Passard, the chef and sustainable gardener takes you to a French culinary escapade with or without the animal flesh

Ahead of Dan Barber‘s farm and garden sustainable culinary fame, Alain Passard envisioned a less animal cuisine sourced mostly from his three organic gardens that, like the best wines, genuinely reflect the French concept of grand cru terroir. Arpège, embodies the flow of its natural French country cuisine in its logo of three curvy waves flowing harmoniously above each other. Many of Passard’s dishes recall that comforting feeling you cherished as a child in Europe when the most delicious treats were served on special family gatherings.

Restaurant with rebellious roots

Alain Passard is a national icon not afraid to paddle against the tide of the meat and seafood centric French gastronomic cuisine. Breaking free from cooking meat, he switched to a fully vegetarian menu at his thee Michelin decorated restaurant in 2001. In 1996 Joia in Milan, where we were not fond of the food though, was the first ever Michelin decorated vegetarian restaurant, today even China prides in starred vegetarian cooking. Arpège has upheld its three Michelin status for over two decades, but now also serves its original, slowly roasted meats and seafood (Terre & Mer menu €390) next to the Garden menu (a twelve-course, hearty Le Printemps des Jardins vegetable tasting at €320) and costly à la carte alternatives. Everything served is super fresh, since the train daily delivers the produce picked that very morning. The food changes daily, the produce dictates what will be cooked, no recipes. For a chef in his 60s, who does not trail TV shows and eschews jet-setting around the globe, but cooks with his team at his restaurant, this is extremely challenging. One hobby though he fits in and shares with his fans in the food recipe collages printed in his cookbook and on each menu’s cover (the “vertical” asparagus) that Alain Passard artfully created himself. Pleasing everyone every single time can be topsy turvy. Our first meal was good, we loved some dishes, but others disappointed, while the second tasting most recently was extraordinary. A low carbon footprint haloes the meal. Still, butter is used in most dishes, we are in Paris after all and not in the South! Genuinely local.
In 1986 the chef and biodynamic farmer in one bought the restaurant (L’Archestrate) facing the human form venerating Rodin Museum from the acclaimed Alain Senderens, one of the leaders of the French nouvelle cuisine together with Michel Guerard, Paul Bocusse, et al. Yet, Alain Passard pushed the limits of the world gastronomy further. Provenance transparency in the print, where the locations and inspirations behind the dishes have formed the menu before thousands of chefs globally joined him. The simple, yet to varied art forms nodding Parisienne Art Deco decoration has changed only slightly from the previous owner.

Rejoice at Arpège with Alain Passard

Great ingredients are never cheap in France, so the most “valuable” is the garden lunch menu for €175 inspired by “the gardens this morning that offered us a gustative palette. This is a vegetable stroll proposed by the chef, the association of the senses.” I went for the surprise improvised daily by the cooks, but was further encouraged to include some of the signature plates from the à la carte menu, which I did. Passard humbly declares: “The most beautiful cookery book was written by nature itself!”
On our flowering courgette decorated (prettier than the cucumber on our first meal at Arpège), white-dressed table landed a tiny amouse-bouche of sweetly glazed cauliflower (chou-fleur) tartlet was perhaps too sweet for a first bite, but from now on everything shined on the sweet-tooth inclined menu. Like the amazing, my granny’s style country bread. Crunchy, without a burned crust, the miche bread was served with a superb deep yellow butter, refilled, dangerously, regularly.
Teasing our noses with a confit of roasted shallots and fresh herbs laid on a large tarte feuilletée by the table, taking the flaky gratin away to slice, our salivating mouths were rewarded with a triangle decorated simply with coriander and foamy parmesan cream. Slow caramelisation oozed the sweet onion aroma, words cannot describe this delectable discourse between nature and man.

My requested dishes to include were: The signature Cold and hot egg-yolk served in its shell. Generous, creamy smooth yolk on the bottom, a layer of heavy cream topped with a sweet currant syrup blended with Sherry vinegar called for bread. More miche, please! Merci.

Followed, what was by far the best vegetable sushi we’ve had. No fusion cuisine, but even the best sushiyas in Tokyo cannot rival that perfect marriage of vegetables and rice. Passard’s rice base was not too sticky, dabbed with the new geranium sauce and covered by thin sliced sheets of (neta) white asparagus for my husband, but my geranium-oil-infused beetroot was juicier. A black Kalamata olive tapenade was streaked around.

Even better were the four colourful garden raviolis – green peas, peas with shells, red cabbage with a Germanic bacon scent, and white shaved asparagus served in a silver bowl. All deeply delicious floating on a nourishing balanced spring vegetable broth.

It was June, a massive white Guécélard asparagus wrapped in an ultra thin layer of rhubarb injecting a gentle acidity pampered our taste buds. There years ago around the same time we had the asparagus from Argenteuil “cuite à la verticale” illustrated in the drawing on the menu by the chef himself.

Rich but elegant, the Cabbage “Cabus” leaves wrapped a chopped cabbage with fresh thermidrome garlic in a light parmigiano reggiano cream sauce – superb. Previously, a similar dish made with pak-choi and chenopodes garlic was far less impressive.

What seemed like the main plate, the young potatoes Belles de Fontenay from Jura with superb, blanched green peas, white turnips and fèves nested in a light cream broth. Excellent. There are over hundred potato varieties in France, farm from the thousands in Peru, but perfected by the regional pride. French traditional cooking lends itself to Passard’s hands with the land’s jewels to work with. The Vol-au-vent pastry puffed around the potato course at Arpège served on our first visit was decadent.

Unlike at many, strictly tasting menu gourmet establishments today, at Arpège they are more flexible. The garden lunch menu can include meat and seafood. My husband ordered the sublime Seafood from Golfe du Morbihan in Jura wine sauce with new potatoes and the lobster. Paraded to his hungry eyes preceding the marvellous crustacean’s de-shelling, perfectly pink and grand, served with the same young potatoes I had, peas, turnips and white Jura wine creamy sauce. A whole leg of roasted lamb made its round from a table to table to the guests who ordered it. The rotisserie brought to reality Passard’s morning Instagram post. Succulent, family sharing style, somewhat the meat connected the strangers dining at Arpège on this occasion. This is a communal dining in grand style.

The first dessert of an almost melted coffee ice cream transferred me to childhood when all the kids in my family mixed the ice cream with a spoon in a bowl for as long as it melted into a creamy smooth, Sicilian almond granita-like, consistency. We just loved it that way! Served with a superb verbena infused crème anglaise poured over with liquid caramel, it was a sweet bomb. Also the second dessert of Hay ice cream filled profiterole in a glazed honey milky caramel sauce with caramelized almonds (Profiterole glacée à la flouve de nos praires, caramel lacté) was perfectly executed but too old school sweet for me after such a large meal. Glad I did not order the larger portion for €50 from the menu. During our first meal at L’Arpège I craved the coup de coeur of French pastry chefs, the Millefeuille “caprice d’enfant“, that was personally my echelon of a cake. Flaky, crisp yet densely filled with verbena scented crème anglaise, sweet just enough, perhaps the “vagaries of childhood” were imprinted in my quirky tastes or was the charm of the verbena (my favourite herb)?

With tea or coffee the traditional petits fours are served – superb caramelised herb tuile, nice herb cookie, salted “caramiel” candy, chocolate and nuts with puffed rice nougat, and mini cream profiteroles. I requested a fresh garden herbs infusion – a digestive blend of thyme, sage and verbena. It also superbly pairs with the lunch if you do not wish to imbibe on wine. Passard always comes around, chatting with each table, with some regulars he even sits for a late lunch inside the restaurant, as he greeted us, me praising the aromatic garden produce, he lifted my teapot and poured me gently more.

By the glass (around €15), wines can be better matched with your surprise garden lunch menu, but the French-focused wine list is good. We had a superb bottle of red Burgundy, the 2008 Mazis-Chambertin Grand cru ideal for the three star dining occasion.

You do not just taste the pure quality of the ingredients, but you feel the joyful spirit in the dining room. We relish in the lunches at l’Arpège, somewhat they transform you away from Paris to the countryside. Whether it is the power of the produce or chef Passard’s culinary mastership, the friendly, knowledgeable service, proud to be working there, but not snotty like at some other Parisian gourmet establishments (Astrance,…), make the meal memorable. Arpège has a private dining room downstairs next to the toilets. Beware, the narrow steps are treacherous, particularly for these bon vivants imbibing on wine in heaps.

A legion of the world’s greatest chefs went through the kitchen Arpège – Alain Solivérès of Le Taillevent, Christian Le Squer of Le Cinq at the Four Seasons Hotel in Paris, Pascal Barbot of Astrance and many other Michelin or bistro style preferring chefs. Grand French chefs like Alain Ducasse (at the Plaza Athenee) were inspired by Passard’s grand cru garden concept, now highlighting the gems of France on their menus.
As we rustled out the homemade caramel from its cellophane twist on our way to the airport, we reflected that this meal was like a great holiday feast served by your super-chef grandmother, well if you are lucky to have an in-house culinary maestro as I do.
It is expensive (usual for a Paris three star meal though), but hardly anybody can complain leaving unsatisfied from Arpège. Almost three hours later, after devouring the flow of indulgence streaming from the kitchen, we heavily rolled ourselves out of the restaurant. The chef stood up from his late lunch plate that he shared along with a friend, a genuine, wide smile and great thanks followed by the adieu. À la prochaine! I mumbled in my limited, foodie French.
The 48hrs cancellation fee at €220 per person pushes to a commitment. Additionally, confirm your table, either by e-mail, or by telephone, before the gourmand randez-vous chez Alain Passard.
If you live nearby, you can subscribe to the newsletter for weekly garden delivery – grand cru vegetables and fruits at your doorstep, lucky Parisians!
Lunch (res. 12noon-2pm) and dinner (reservations from 7:30pm) daily except for weekends (the chef is “in the garden”). Closed in August.

84 Rue de Varenne, 75007 Paris; arpege.passard@wanadoo.fr

+33147050906

Astrance: three Parisian stars with attitude

Named after a flower native to the chef’s Auvergne region of France, Astrance sourcing from the exotic African coast, Asia and Australia globalises in Pascal Barbot’s contemporary, light French cooking. Today, it is beguiling to define a nation’s cuisine after all, and Astrance is a proof of the delectable culinary confusion. In his forties, still resourceful, the chef Barbot does not shy away from using far-away ingredients such as Mozambique prawns, Brazilian pepper, Japanese sodachi citrus and Australian truffles instead of nearby produce. The flip of a coin of Alain Passard’s and Ducasse’s local sourcing.

The compact, open-plan two floors spanning room seats about 25 guests had two available tables during the entire dinner service, the rest occupied by mostly Asian diners, so after the initial snotty attitude as we entered in the notoriously hard to reserve Astrance felt like victims of mischief. Despite a dry welcome by the staff, we settled on gambling our money on the food’s reputation. And it started marvellously. After a clumsy, imprecise information about the wines offered as an aperitif by the glass, I tasted a sip of Loire’s white mineral Chignon, but went for the exquisite blanc des blancs champagne La Colinne Inspiree (literally “inspired by the hill”) by Jacques Lasaigne. Wine saves the malice of men, I thought!

Astrance employs that badly reputed Parisian service, arrogant, unamiable and cold. Topping the three Michelin star experience one of the waiters was incompetent enough as to not knowing what was being served – claiming that a tooth fish was a red mullet. The manager is the co-owner with the chef Pascal Barbot, who has for over a decade nested comfortably on the summit of the Parisian gastronomy with his three star badge, I wonder how much longer he will uphold this coveted trophy. They met at Alain Passard’s Arpège in Paris, where Barbot climbed the kitchen echelon to the head chef post. The duo later formed a young team opening the bistro-sized Astrance in a cul-de-sac bordered by a formidable staircase of the plush 16th arrondissement.

'arte au foie gras, champignons et agrumes

Mosambique prawns à la plancha in Balinese satay paste

During our three hours lasting “Astrance menu” that night many dishes impressed us, while some left us cold. There is no à la carte option, so you just pick one of the tasting experiences.

First came in one-bite devoured crispy, wafer-thin coins like sandwiches nursing a crispy white almond spread with green apple and leafy greens stuffed cones. Followed by a crispy roll with intensely tasting blanched green peas. Rounding up the amouse-bouche flow inspired by the late spring season were whole green peas filled with superb lemon cream – aperitif perfect bites.

A country loaf in Passard’s moist with a crunchy crust superb rustic style (Miche) but sliced like a fruit cake was served with a deep yellow, wholesome slab of butter. The food was mellowing our soured moods, delicious in its simplicity, while introducing a subtle new touch to each main featuring ingredient.

‘Tarte au foie gras, champignons et agrumes’, the signature raw porcini layers with a foie gras crème filling dusted with dried porcini powder, sweet lemon confit and a spot on side of hazelnut oil looked like a slice of savoury tiramisu. It was far better though. The recipe is evolving and has slightly changed over time since Elizabeth on Food, the Amsterdam-based independent food blogger, wrote in 2013: “A crunchy and lightly caramelised pastry base, topped with layers of thinly sliced, juicy white button mushrooms, sprinkled with citrus zest such as orange and lime, thin layers of crisp green apple, a fat layer of creamy foie gras and a top layer of mushrooms sprinkled with some dried porcini powder. With the tarte came an intense bitter-sweet and zingy lemon confit puree and a concentrated hazelnut oil. Simple, pure, yet so sophisticated.” I totally agree with the last words, this was also the most impressive dish at Astrance.

Followed the Mosambique wild prawns popular with gastronomic chefs in Europe today. Gently cooked with an Indonesian peanut sauce, coriander and ginger as an incredible encounter between Asia and the French cooking that was not spicy, but another stunner on the Astrance carte blanche menu.

Chef Barbot worked in Sydney where he grasped the breaths of Australian produce like tooth fish and the beautiful inky black truffles, that we devoured for the first time. My husband had an extra plate with “un peu” des truffes, to their credit quite a generous shaving of the aromatic fungi over blanched green peas. An unusual pairing, but good. My own house recipe of creamy avocado with truffles and a drizzle of olive oil works better, try. The Australian, cod-like but drier, tooth fish with sodashi lemon reduction, a dollop of cod liver served with Japanese sticky rice and spring onions was excellent, rich yet balanced.

Some ingredients were more locally sourced. From the South of France came a tender chicken served with its skin in a spicy sweet and smoky espelette pepper sauce reminiscing a Hungarian goulash. Shredded turnip and a pungent nasturtium leaf (not as potent as in my garden though) added the typical Barbot surprise flare.

A variety of French duck cuts coked medium, poured over with its reduced jus in a company of white spring onion bulb and a red beet purée. A paté-rich duck liver was spread on toasted bread. Delivers for serious duck lovers, but not picky omnivores.

No cheese dish was served since desserts stepped in. A weird, close to terrible rich vanilla cream with verbena infused mashed potatoes that tasted like the instant version from a supermarket – dry and grainy.

Then a saviour embodied in a sublime seasonal rhubarb compote tart, topped with an aromatic and delicate jasmine foam fixed our soured palates. Holding form by a hard pastry ring, the dessert was seasoned with borage-sour rhubarb freshness. Not as revelatory as the previous night’s marjolaine, rhubarb and strawberries with cream at Vins des Pyrénées bistro. A house blended herbal infusion was served in a double glass cups as a digestive.

At the finale, petit fours landed on our white cloth table. Tiny chestnut honey madeleines with a nice crunchy bite, seasonal fresh quartered apricots, ripe cherries, sweet strawberries, succulent giant raspberries and blueberries, next to the chef Barbot’s signature Jasmine eggnog served in an eggshell to be sipped from. The June fresh fruits were extraordinary, but the weird combination of rich egg liquor with fragrant Jasmine was like a bad perfume, disturbing.

The last half of the tasting experience did not persuade us to come back any time soon. There are so many excellent restaurants in Paris, and we much prefer to dine at Arpège, Ducasse at Plaza Athenèe, the Bristol and other three and two star queens before returning back to Astrance. We even did not get the menu printed at the end of our meal, so if I was not inquiring multiple times after each course was served, I would just came out like a stuffed blank slate.

Work and life balance appeals to the chef and his partner since Astrance is only open four days a week (also during August when everything else shuts doors in the French metropolis). You can start calling two-months ahead for reservations, but last minute cancellations can slip you in. Magnus Nilsson of Fäviken in Sweden worked at Astrance, but later created his signature Nordic cooking style, more generally popular today than the new French food.

4 Rue Beethoven, 75016, Paris
+33 1 40 50 84 40
Lunch and dinner Tuesday till Friday

Sushi B Paris: an intimate Michelin awarded sushiya strokes the bellies of seafood lovers

Sushi B serves one of the best authentic omakase (chef’s choice tasting) sushi courses in Europe. This eight seat sushiya in Paris caters to these seeking authentic, yet personally curated, high-end, discrete sushi counter experience in the French capital. In the heart of the Asia-centric Opera precinct the foodie Japanophiles appreciate with respect and wonder a meal that orderly follows a sequence of seasonally inspired seafood dishes, but, unusually for a sushi restaurant, vegetarians are welcome too,.

A gorgeous seasonal ikebana (Japanese flower arrangement) welcomes the gourmands into the compact Tokyoite dining room. The rest is between you, the Michelin stared chef Masayoshi Hanada and the fellowship of intrigued Japanese food lovers.

For a top quality fish and seafood, Sushi B is a good deal, particularly at lunch. In Japan you would be charged a double for the same amount of food. In Europe finding an excellent sushi is like hunting for white truffles, rare and highly coveted by the serious gourmands aware of its ingredients dependent essence. The chef savvily sources much of of his seafood in the European waters, while also competes with the high bidders at the Tsukiji market auctions in Japan.

In Paris, Sushi B is seasoned with an elegant, contemporary yet subtle design suitable for the highly competitive local dining scene. The modern, wide counter seats are comfortable for the hour exceeding tasting meal about to commence.

The gustatory indulgence at Sushi B is not as much in the realm of bold flavours or textures, but an overall harmony. Far from bland though, as from the back kitchen some high in umami plates salt your palate, and recently, to my husband’s pleasure, the final maki roll became so large that I chewed through it for five minutes (like the oversized morsels at Jiro’s sushi in Tokyo). The Kyushu born chef speaks English, French, and Japanese so he attends personally to his intimate assemble of guests seated around the v-shaped counter table. Watch him in action carefully.

From the shortest sushi menu at lunch (when you have to catch the plane or train), through a full lunch menu including appetisers, a warm main plate, and dessert (we return to this option frequently), a large omakase tasting focused on sushi only to a vegetarian “terre” menu (must be ordered in advance), you will be served by two Japanese ladies with a very limited command of English, so be patient since they try very hard to please you. The French service at one dinner we had last fall at Sushi B was not as good as the Japanese ladies. I have tried all the menus except for the vegetarian, since here I do not expect the veggies shining under the chef’s knife, for a garden inspired menu next day I go to l’Arpege to balance my ocean-depleting behaviour. The fish and seafood, often relatively locally sourced (Atlantic), like the big eye snapper, langoustine, wild salmon, sea bream and turbot, are the decadent gems to appreciate at Sushi B.
I dined at Sushi B in a late spring twice, early summer and last fall for dinner. Each meal you start with the chef’s signature amouse bouche – the creamy warm black sesame goma-dofu with a splash of soy sauce and a dab of fresh wasabi. Its crust used to be like an aged brown Reblochon cheese, but recently, charred over a charcoal turning ashy black like a mold ripened Valençay. A high taste profile take of the traditional Japanese kudzu starch thickened sesame delicacy, that is superb for some while uninteresting for others. We love this plant-based welcome bite at Sushi B. Even though it still does not measure up to the elegant and subtle boldness of the goma-dofu served at top kaiseki restaurants in Kyoto, the chef intriguingly tweaks his recipe.

For a Sunday dinner late in the fall, next appetiser was nothing less glamorous than a succulent, delicately cooked Brittany lobster with a season-echoing apple sauce, physalis and vinegar, followed by a Sea bream sashimi with a sweet, delicate and creamy like Hokkaido uni but softer Icelandic sea urchin served with a tsukemono of raw white radish and a dab of fresh wasabi. Prior to the main course a risqué blockbuster concoction of a cooperation between the front chef and the curtained kitchen was served. The Charcoal grilled smoky Brittany scallop with crispy kombu seaweed, a raw shrimp with shaved bottarga and shredded tororo kombu (thin and long flakes of shaved dried kombu that has been softened in vinegar), and a runny egg with caviar for me (an elevated mercury showing blood test premeditated me to avoid the tuna tartare that my fellow diners enjoyed) topped with lobster brain was very salty, but the crunchy pieces in briny creamy brain parts were the subject of judgemental discussion for your own brain. The main plate was again charcoal seared. The Red mullet with its crispy skin, raw marinated pickled turnip and seared pepper was simply welcomed after the previous challenger. A clear Soup with fried tofu, french cep mushrooms, yuzu, chinese cabbage was still delicately broiling a large soft Atlantic oyster, now we were ready for the straight game of omakase sushi, more sake, please! Masayoshi Hanada changes the palate-cleansing pickles serving diverse types of radishes that freshen you up between the sushi mouthfuls. In the place of ginger, once you get translucent sheets of a white radish, other time the purple pink ume plum vinegar coloured the peeled red radishes.

During our first visit the chef asked after our first bite if the wasabi level was ok, subsequently he knew. The grainy, firm feel of the rice from Niga in the northern part of Japan that Sushi B chose elevates the neta (topping) well. Starting with a white fish like brill (turbot family) bristled with a soy sauce or sea bass spiced with shichimi togarashi from Hokkaido; then often a sublime squid (ika) with lime and tiny brush of soy shows up, and so does the not-so-Japanese but excellent creamy textured wild salmon or white salmon in June. My favourite morsel served each time was the almost raw Brittany langoustine sushi, oh la la! Seasonal treats like the Mediterranean gambas with white kombu, charred mantis shrimp with a touch of yuzu; a creamy texture but shy scallop, gas seared aburi – a paper thin slightly chewy red mullet with its rose skin, make each visit unique.

Oily fish include a horse mackerel with a touch of soy sauce, marinated and smoked (like dried katsuoboshi) bonito that is amazing, but its powerful taste predestines only bold fish to follow.

The meaty fleshed bluefin tuna (maguro); delicately melting chu-toro (medium fatty tuna); a meaty smoky sword fish; and in winter o-toro bathing in its solid fat melts away on your tongue.

Since I avoided tuna and now refuse the bluefin tuna due to environmental awareness, the chef has cut differently the creamy soft, not like the previous hedgehog firm cut squid, instead of the chu-toro, I savoured uni from Iceland or any other morsel that I wanted to repeat – the langoustine, please!

The intense white miso soup with chives is always served at Sushi B after the nigiri fight. Maguro (tuna) maki is served without a soy sauce, and generously stuffed with the remaining cuts of raw chu-toro and o-toro (fatty tuna when in season) with a leaf of shiso (Perilla). For us a tuna-free Caviar topped mixed seafood maki, the chef exclaimed – “I like the mix, he he!“, my jaws working hard, the giant mouthful lingered in my feminine chewing apparatus for a couple of minutes until its contents could be swallowed, I agreed about the flavours, but not the size.
Lunch at Sushi B in Paris is much cheaper (€116 for two, plus drinks) and on our to do list when we visit Paris. The more creative and diverse omakase dinner comes at €320 for two people. Any extra piece of sushi adds extra €7-10 depending on the seafood.

Drinks at Sushi B in Paris include a minuscule two-page Francophile wine list (branded champagne, mostly newer vintages of established regions, but also niche Burgundy) next to a solid sake menu such as Kuheiji Daiginjo 50 Désir from Aichi or a cloudy unfiltered sake from Nara, nice rice-forward sparkling dry vintage Bunraku Arroz Daiginjo sake from Saitama by the glass that we liked. A bottle of red Gevrey-Chambertin Pinot Noir with our dinner was half the price as the most expensive sake gem on the list, the Kokuryu ISHIDAYA Daiginjo from Fukui (€560). A good selection of Japanese tea, served warm or on ice, a smooth still Alpine water from Thonon, sparkling wanter and a small range of organic juices satisfy tea-to-tellers and business lunchers.
There is an outpost of Sushi B in Milan, but the rumourers whisper that it is not at the same level as in Paris. The Italy’s commercial capital does not have much of excellent pure Japanese food, but the superb contemporary Japanese meets Italian food at Tokuyoshi lifts the bar, I recommend trying it.
Sushi B: 5 Rue Rameau, 7002 Paris
+33 140265287
Open for lunch and dinner. Closed on Tuesdays and holidays.
AMEX is accepted.

Sola: modern kaiseki with French twist in Paris

Sola is an eclectic amalgam of French and Japanese cultures reflected in the gastronomic opus by talented young chef Kosuke Nabeta. Reopened after fire in 2017 the former Maison du Saké chef took over from Yoshitake Hiroki who returned back to Japan. They are both Japanese and chose Paris as the stage for their culinary performance.

Their grasp of the art de cuisine was awarded with the gastronomic Oscar – so far one michelin ‘macaroon’ (as the French cutely say), but they deserve more at least for the quality and flawless presentation of their food.
In a kaiseki spirit the chef selects the best seasonal ingredients daily on the local market and then presents them to his customers in a consecutive multi-sensory gastronomic experience with an emphasis of balance in each dish. In nine-courses (dinner) the chef transforms his youth on to his refreshing and ingenious plates.

Sola attracts throngs of Japanese customers relishing great food, the seal of approval for a good Japanese restaurant abroad. Sola was praised also by local insiders – Le Fooding recommendation brought me there. I hope that it remains more of a secret as it is already quite hard to get a dinner reservation there.

At Sola contemporary Japanese cuisine meets gastronomic French techniques and ingredients. Vegetarians detour, although they accommodate allergies and other requests such as forgoing pork. The chef goes daily to the market to select the freshest produce, highlighting also animal products. The nine-course dinner tasting menu always includes two fish courses and one meat. Two marvellous desserts conclude the indulgence. Lunch is a simpler affair served in six-courses.
It all starts with a small amouse-bouche and freshly baked, still warm, slices of baguette (very French), constantly replenished in a linen pouch on your table.
Rich foie gras was eased off with clear juicy jelly in a melange with Japanese mushrooms. An exquisite chestnut crème was winded up like soba noodles in a turban shape on the top. Two noodles of a truffle shaving and spring green leaf like glorious earrings on a beautiful face achieved perfection in one mouthful.

Slightly smoked tuna freshened with red and white radishes and leafy greens. A creamy straciatella (heart of burrata) cheese and an egg yolk sauce played the roles of dips for the crunchy veggies. This magic rainbow of seemingly contrasting flavours created delicious harmony. A deep white Burgundy wine with good acidity added the final tone to the colourful rainbow.

I rarely like oysters, but I am discovering the beauty of the sea mineral quality of these clammy shells. At Sola, the softly cooked oysters lost some of the unpleasant texture that the oyster plaintiffs disdain, becoming sturdier while remaining their delicate self. An added bubbly white seafood emulsion and rings of subtly grilled leeks bestowed depth and leafy roquette seasoned with a bitter tang.

Still staying with white wine the next course of a seared scallop with amber-hued carrots, was artfully decorated like a modern painting with a stroke of white foam and carrot purée, a dot of thick balsamic vinaigrette in the centre of the earthenware and generous spritz of four-leaf clovers for good luck.

More seafood came with a broiled crab bathing in savory butter and ponzu sauce, accompanied by raw potato spaghetti, all adorned with flowers and herbs. Another incredible dish that will linger in my food memory for weeks!
Seared bass with a smoky character as if it was cooked over an incense, was hiding under a forest of sautéed mixed greens, seaweed and yellow flower petals. A clear seaweed soup like a sun dwelled in the centre of the universe.
Broiled sole came next. Its flashy spine was leaning back as if it was stopping itself from jumping into the spicy milky sauce next to it. All over the fish lashed long fried onion strings adding depth and oily fullness, while grated and pickled yuzu skin brought zest and fruity quality. I had it instead of pork with shallots and delicate potatoes, that was on the menu that evening.

Pre-desert was based on a juicy and fresh passion fruit sorbet with passionfruit marshmallow, sliced mini bananas, citrusy yuzu, rich white chocolate paste, palate brightening pineapple cubes, red peppercorn, baby sugary meringues, and all sprinkled gently with flower petals and mint leaf. Achieving harmony with so many ingredients is a heroic task.
The desert itself was superb vanilla bean ice cream sandwiched between a thick mouse of chocolate, a chunky cookie crumble and a thin soft sesame biscuit with fragile crispy cracker interspersed with cracked raw cocoa beans. Crunchy, creamy, crisp, all these textures mingled together in each wholesome bite. Roasted hojicha tea is best with this sweet treat.

The Japanese sommelier assembled nice wine list. From French through Japanese koshu to good sake selection (Sola is owned by the Maison du Saké), good values but also pricey whales from Burgundy. Wine pairing for each course is also available. Sparking sake is fun to start with, while Japanese aged whisky concludes boldly a superb evening. I had a glass of mineral Puligny-Montrachet that complemented the seafood and fish dishes and red classic Bordeaux from the superb 2009 vintage with the desert. Not a flashy producer, but a great value for money.
I enjoyed a pot of tea from an established Japanese purveyor Jugetsudo. From the seven teas on offer, I chose Ao Hojicha – a superior green slightly roasted tea by the Aohoji method. Lower in caffeine than green teas and its elegant flavour readied me for bed. Delightful homemade lemon macaroons and chocolate buns were served complimentary.

The wooden beams adorned the former “Salle Francaise” dated from the 17th century feels like a chalet in the Alps. Now it is a sake bar.
Dining in the “Salons Japonais” designed for a shoe-less Japanese low seating in the basement vaulted cellar travels you even further – to Japan. Its monastic underground is romantic and mystic at once. Ideal for couples.
With these two very distinct faces, eating at Sola can last all night.

Valet parking assistance for dinner is available.
Closing: All august, 30. December – 7. January; Mondays and Sundays.
12 Rue de l’Hôtel Colbert, 75005 Paris
+ 33 1 43 29 59 04; lunch + 33 9 65 01 73 68

Hiking Côte d'Azur: challenge the Maritime Alps on foot

Unlike the splendid but easy coastal trails on Côte d’Azur, the more challenging hikes grip the soul with bird’s-eye azure horizons. Not far from the Mediterranean shores hikers, mountain bikers and climbers, turn their pleasure from seasonal mountaineering with the skiers. The upwards spiking nature of the coast between Nice and Menton rolls inland into the Maritime Alps. The French departmental Alpes Maritimes span hundreds of kilometres of trails, so making your choices easier, here I share the most accessible routes reachable either from a train station or after a short car ride from any town or village in Côte d’Azur.

As much as I love hiking the green valleys inland in Colorado, with lakes spiked Alps or the rolling bounty of the Waiheke island in New Zealand, the Mediterranean has a special aura. Capri, Port Cross, Sardinia, Sicily around Etna and many of the volcanic Greek islands, they all lift the veil of the azure mystery surrounding these sea-locked peninsulas. Yet, even for the most adventurous of us our home holds a particular, more personal value – perhaps this is why for me hiking Côte d’Azur feels more comforting and intellectually stimulating. Such an emotional relationship buffers the strenuous physical effort that any steep mountain hiking involves. Hiking the Maritime Alps feels rejuvenating.

Some of the following trails on the Maritime Alps are manageable, while panting, in 40 minutes of constant upwards marching. Others take you through a forestal blazon of paths circling around hillsides for hours. According to time available and your energy level on the day, go for the perfect circuit. Matching your momentous zeal with the right activity is essential for balance – to live happily, free, not enslaved by the mind and the orders of others. Hiking with a flexible partner does wonders!

Sentier Littoral to Roquebrune Village

Sandwiched between the Monte-Carlo Beach and Country Clubs the Sentier Littoral coastal walk snaking along the Cap Martin to Menton is quite an easy feat. Yet, you can fortify the scenic coastal stroll with an explorative detour uphill to the under the radar, but stunning medieval Roquebrune Village. This short, but with hundreds of steps cut hike is more meditative for its vacant human presence. Except for the mental peace disruptive traffic on two road crossings, I rarely encounter a wandering soul there. Follow the marked escaliers (stair cases), some widely set, others tight so you can dare to stride over two at once, for a challenging workout up from the more frequented azure coast. Cross the rail bridge just before the Roquebrune-Cap-Martin Gare (train station). Winding up on Avenue de la Gare flowing into Avenue Vilarem until reaching the Agip gas station on the busy Avenue de la Côte d’Azur, turn right and carefully cross the road to take the sign-posted Escalier Saft that runs into yet another earth-bound ladder of Escalier Chanoine Grana. The private gardens of the tiny family houses sport enviable sea views – the entire Bay of Roquebrune lays bare just behind your hard firing gluts. Bear left on the widened staircase and it will funnel you up to the rocky village, that once belonged to the Monaco’s Grimaldi family. Relish in the medieval stones maze, passing under tunnels and the jungle of narrow alleys. A visit of the peaking fort rewards with gripping views over the rooftops, the church of Sainte Marguerite and all the way to Italy. To gourmandise the journey, there is a small deli shop near the church selling great cheese and wines in a charming cave at the back. Do not sip too much though as a vertigo may knock you off the steps veering down. Occasionally, an antiques seller in the village rolls the treasures out.

Although this hike is not exactly climbing the Maritime Alps, upon descent your knees may crack under the pressure. A longer, yet less steep circuit sets from Chemin de Menton just behind the church and the village fountain. Pass the millennial olive tree until reaching the chapel of Saint Roch. Following the signs downhill will eventually land you in the centre of Cap Martin. There, ask for Sentier Littoral, the coastal route between Monaco and Menton. Use your phone’s navigation (Google works) or follow this map. Put Roquebrune Village before going up and Gare de Roquebrune as your return destination.

BEST MONTHS: January, February, May, June, September, October

TIME: About an hour up and down, depending how long you graze in the village.

Eze Village

Steeper, but slightly longer is the Nietzsche trail from Eze sur Mer up to the surreally mesmerising Eze Village. Arriving by train, bear right along the main road and cross over once you spot the sign Sentier Nietzsche on the other side. Alternatively park along the main coastal road if there is a spot available. It is essential to wear tight shoes with a good sole grip. Along the rocky, dusty trail only partially shaded by forestry, your worn out spirit gets a philosophical boost through the posts of Friedrich Nietzsche‘s insights. To illustrate the German author, he mused upon the superficiality of the Greeks, cultural differences and the essence of human nature. Aphorisms and lines from one of his most celebrated books Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

Perhaps for Nietzsche’s allure, this trail is so famous that you will rarely walk it alone. Even in the scorching heat of summer, groups of school kids, fit lanky adults and turtle walk embracing red-faced hikers frequent the picturesque cliffy route. One hour is the average up, but I manage in 40 minutes. Once up, you can curve around the medieval Eze, refresh with a drink or a casual lunch by the pool of the Relais Châteaux hotel La Chèvre d’Or, but you can also climb higher than that – spiritually and physically. Pass the tourists hiving in the postcard village, cross the Moyenne Corniche road, pass the Galimard perfumery and stride up the residential road, up to the “Blue Devils” road, literally (Avenue des Diables Bleus), cross, and straight ahead roll into the protected parkland. Walking the twisty and dusty roads of the Maritime Alps gets better with every turn as the views of the entire bay between Cap Ferrat and Monaco flash out. Beware, cars are allowed and the panoramic views lure many lazier motor-tourists up. Once you reach the parking by Fort de la Revère on the summit, continue along and find a shaded picnic table to replenish your energy. The views are angelic! The way down through the park keeps you glued on the panorama, but once back in Eze Village the slippery rocky Nietzsche trail gets trickier upon descent, so you can opt for a bus or taxi ride back to the seaside.

BEST MONTHS: January, February, May, June, September, October

TIME: 40min-1h up to Eze Village + 40min – 1h up to Fort de la Revère. About four hours in total.

The boat filled bay of Villefranche

Nearby, back along the Mediterranean from Villefranche you can wind up to the Mont Alban above Nice. I have climbed up only once, but walking through the built-up Villefranche and then in a bit seedy park, was not my cup of tea. Once atop, the views are great, but a similar spectacle awaits you in the gated Park du Château in Nice, a safer choice.

abandoned house ornamented with graffiti

From Monaco to Tête de Chien

This by the Monaco residents popular trail winds up from the paved Mediterranean Sentier du Littoral to the medieval village of La Turbie. As you move onto the rocky stream of paths, passing a well-preserved Roman playing field, wonder at an eco insect house, and colourful graffiti artfully sprayed on a derelict house near the peak of Tête de Chien. The cliff resembles a dog’s head sticking, as if alert, into the space, hence its puzzling name. Once there, the view reveals Monaco as you have probably not seen it yet. Soaring like a bird above the glamorous Principality, the Monegasque wealth plays out. Zoom in all its verdant rooftops, historic hotels lining the legendary race circuit, mega yachts docking in its ports, secret gardens lost in the dense urban siege of bricks, concrete and glass, and the soaring eccentric or truly enviable penthouses. Choose a clear day to spy on this luxuriant marvel of the Côte d’Azur tucked right under the Maritime Alps.

You can start hiking from the sea level – arriving at the Cap d’Ail train station or parking your car as I suggested in the easy hikes post. From the whereabouts of the Mala beach in Cap d’Ail just follow the narrow residential roads up to the centre of the town. If you walk along the coast all the way from Monaco, you can start winding up towards Villa les Camellias Museum, further along the Avenue de la Gare to the main thoroughfare on Avenue du Trois Septembre. You can also park there in the centre of Cap d’Ail right next to the Tourism Office. From here, take the Escallier Costa Plana to the left of the Total gas station. Veering right on the Route Francois Siccardi, and eye on Chemin des Amandiers, a tight car-free path (the vicious motorbikes can swing through so stay alert) guiding you through Cap d’Ail until you reach the tail of Avenue de General du Gaulle. Then turn right and soon the Moyenne Corniche road lights blink at you red, press the button for green, and cross. Turning right uphill, look for wooden posts on your left heralding “Tête de Chien” and take a sharp left to the path. Soon, the views start rewarding your effort. The green turf bordered by stones is an ancient Roman playing field, and just behind on the horizon nests Cap Ferrat. The higher you go, the more you see. Another tricky road to cross will appear soon to the right from a small cart racing track. There is a sharp curve hindering the traffic downhill so be vigilant. Once on the wild hillside keep zooming in on the yellow “I” marks along the rocky trail and follow them, turning only when its shape tuns into a boomerang. It will not take long to reach the cliff spiking above Monaco. Relish the full view if a cloud-free day permits. Still, I love the shroud of mystery, when the overhanging clouds hoover around the mountains, revealing, a morsel by morsel a sneak peak of the Principality and the sea. Wander around and check out the street art den grown through with wild, vine crawling foliage. I call this an alternative tour of Monaco’s whereabouts.

My map of the hike from Cap d’Ail beach through Sentier du Littoral up to Tête de Chien.

BEST MONTHS: January, February, May, June, September, October

TIME: 1h up from centre of Cap d’Ail, almost 2h from Fontvielle in Monaco.

Fôret Fe La Mairis above Menton

More in the forested gulp of the Maritime Alps, nests this verdant mountain park filled with hiking trails suitable for any level of hiker if you stick to the lower trails. The higher parts through the forest can be very slippery, so shoes with a good grip are highly recommended. Here you need to get by car either arriving from Menton towards Monti (about 15 min drive – map here) or the A8 highway, exiting after Gorbio. Patiently swirl the wheel through sharp, narrow Route de Sospel, watching the road closely until spotting a gate with a sign right on the crest of one of the uphill turns. Park next to The Motocross Monti circuit (free) and then walk back towards the road to enter the trail. Perhaps because it is closer to Italy, it is trickier to find your way around the Fôret Fe La Mairis. The aloof Italian attitude infected the confusing signage. If your memory is not sharp, take photos with your phone to identify the road you walked so getting back can be tracked easily. The views span the Mediterranean at first, but as you walk around the mountain the peaking Alpine sharpness strikes you with its other way of clarity and peace. There are rarely any visitors so the picnic tables along the route are all yours. It would be a shame not to use their hospitality so pack some snacks and savour the brisk mountain air.

There are hundreds of trails further in the mountains. Most become inaccessible to hikers with the snow coverage between December and April, but for the rest of the year they let you to sneak peak into abandoned or scantly inhabited ancient villages. Like being an explorer, the Marco Polo spirit awakens in you, when entering these old mountain settlements. Enjoy the crowd-free stroll and inhale the invigorating mountain air to the full capacity of your lungs. It calms and naturally releases the city stress.

BEST MONTHS: May, June, September, October.

TIME: About 2 hours and more on the scantly marked circuits.

This eco-friendly, brain-stimulating and lungs invigorating activity was one of the most essential survival tolls of our ancestors, and although we do not have to walk today, the sedentary lifestyle and rather stress-inducing gyms will unlikely prolong our lives and ultimately happiness. Still, being in nature is more. Perhaps the liberty we sense while outdoors, not constrained by the human interventions into the primordial sound landscape and distracted by the urban noise, streams from the genial, pleasant waves of nature’s symphony. If you focus on the sounds around you and thing about its affect on your mind, mood and ultimately, the body, not only will you enter a meditative state of mind, but you may get closer to nature, and perhaps even the Universe. To keep it beautiful for all, bring a reusable water bottle and do not throw any waste outdoors.

Get out and hike the landscape – the rolling hills, the horizons widening mountains and the grounding fertile valleys. Côte d’Azur is the perfect destination to wander on your two feet.

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