Restaurants France

It's a Frenchman's pleasure to dine out. And, in a sense, his patriotic duty. The great revolution over which countless aristocrats lost their heads put ideas into others, notably the brigades of private maitres d'hotel and chefs facing sudden unemployment. In an era when it was dangerous to be less revolutionary than one's neighbor, the cleverest among this new class of unemployed disavowed their aristocratic ties and looked to put their talents to work in patriotic ways.

Last year my daughter-in-law and I had a fantastic three-week trip through France. In Orleans, where the restaurant choices are plentiful, we were lucky to be advised by a local to have lunch at L'Eclat des Saveurs. The tab came to 79 Euros, or about $110, for the two of us, which included a St.Emilion for her and a Cointreau for me. L'Eclat des Saveurs, 233 Rue de Bourgogne, Orleans; 011-33-02-38-53-12-21, http://www.viking-resto.com . Entree with appetizer or dessert, from about $29. Sheppa Vanderkleij Indio

The 80th edition of the venerable Michelin food and travel guide was published in France on Thursday with the news that Le Crocodile in Strasbourg, has been added to the guide's three-star ranking. The newest member of the Michelin firmament brings the guide's number of three-star restaurants in France to just 19 restaurants. Le Crocodile, founded about 1790, was bought by its present owner/chef, Emile Jung, in 1971.

An 'honest meal' Re "Restaurant closure hard to swallow," July 22 As a downtown resident, I have to say that the trendy new restaurants where every item is served a la carte and in tiny portions at inflated prices can't compare to Edward's Steak House. As a boy, my parents took me to Edward's on Alvarado. I will never forget the gracious servers or the nice old man in the parking lot who always helped customers find a space — not to mention the delicious, juicy steaks.

Vamonos, amigos, into the Paris night. Skip past those intimate, hallowed dining salons, where food is an art to be savored and critiqued. Ignore those crowded bistros, brasseries and cafes. Instead, head for Cafe Pacifico, on the Left Bank, where the French diners are shooting seven brands of tequila.

I got lost looking for Jean-Francois Vadot's snail farm even before I left the United States. Weeks before my departure date I had rummaged through a drawerful of driving maps from previous trips and found two for Burgundy, where Vadot lived in the village of Blancey, about 150 miles southeast of Paris. Blancey could not be found on either map. Its sum total isn't much more than a couple of houses, a couple of barns, a few head of cattle, some rabbits and about 80,000 snails.

The French dining experience is supposed to be exquisite, but for Mike Moran, exquisite is hardly the proper adjective. If the United States Olympic Committee's press chief chooses to take the rest of his meals in his room here during the Winter Olympics, it will be entirely understandable. Here's his tale: "The first indication that it wasn't going to go well was that they didn't have bread for a sandwich. In France, no bread.

Here, in its entirety, is a restaurant review which appeared in early April in the prominent French newspaper Figaro: "Au Quick, le 'giant' (16.70F) manque un peu de personnalite mais le dosage de sauce est parfait. Les frites (8.60F) meriteraient peut-etre un peu plus de cuisson. Au dessert, surprise, une patisserie bien de chez vous, la gosette d'abricot (5.50F). Arrose d'un Coca, un repas correct et rapide pour 36.60F." "Quick", in case you're wondering, is a $120-million-a-year Franco-Belgian hamburger chain, with some 78 units scattered all over France--and the meal thus reviewed in Figaro was a typical hamburger-chain repast: a "giant" burger (which, said the newspaper, lacked "a bit of personality," but was perfectly dosed with sauce)

A famous old hotel and restaurant in northwestern Burgundy, built around a 1707-vintage stagecoach stop. A three-star rating from the Guide Michelin, and many years of glory in the firmament of French gastronomy. Then a proprietor growing old and losing interest. A daughter taking over, making mistakes, firing chefs. A long, slow, sad slide into mediocrity, with two stars lost along the way.

Bistro-mania continues to sweep France. Such noted chefs as Roger Verge on the Cote d'Azur, Francis Garcia in Bordeaux and Michel Rostang and Guy Savoy here in Paris have launched bistros, supplementing their well-known formal restaurants. More recently, when Jacques Maximin opened his elaborate Maximin restaurant in Nice, he installed the modest Bistro de Nice next door.

French chefs and restaurant owners protesting high taxes pelted surprised riot police here with eggs and flour Monday, prompting the officers to respond with tear gas to keep them away from the National Assembly. Hundreds of protesters, many wearing chef's hats and banging pots, converged on the parliament to demand that the 20.6% value-added tax on restaurants be cut to the 5.5% rate that fast-food establishments such as McDonald's enjoy.

Fish stew for 80 bucks? Are you out of your mind? That was my gauche reaction a decade ago to a suggestion by one of my French newspaper colleagues at the Cannes Film Festival that we splurge on a meal at an out-of-town restaurant famous for its bouillabaisse. If you haven't had bouillabaisse at Tetou, you haven't been to the Riviera, she said.

Can great chefs turn out superb meals in two places at once? In a veritable revolution in French gastronomy, the anonymous men who are supposed to be this country's most finicky eaters agreed this week that yes, they can. In the new Michelin Guide to French restaurants, Alain Ducasse, a cocky cook with a salt-and-pepper beard and sharp tongue, has been awarded six coveted stars--twice the supreme rating.

I got lost looking for Jean-Francois Vadot's snail farm even before I left the United States. Weeks before my departure date I had rummaged through a drawerful of driving maps from previous trips and found two for Burgundy, where Vadot lived in the village of Blancey, about 150 miles southeast of Paris. Blancey could not be found on either map. Its sum total isn't much more than a couple of houses, a couple of barns, a few head of cattle, some rabbits and about 80,000 snails.

When Leslie Caron played a girl taking lessons in the art of cooking cassoulet and pouring coffee in "Gigi," she could hardly have imagined that one day she would be running a restaurant. The idea began at home, where Caron often handles the cooking. "I have big eaters as friends," she says, "and I like to give them things they don't have in their daily meals." Dishes must be quick and simple, like duck maigret cooked on the grill or a pot au feu of fresh and smoked fish.

Even before Friday, times were tough for the great French chefs. Recession and higher sales taxes had hit them hard, erasing many of the notoriously long waiting lists for tables at their restaurants. And chefs were still smarting from the 1996 Gault-Millau guide, which summarily demoted more than half of the top-ranked establishments.

French chefs and restaurant owners protesting high taxes pelted surprised riot police here with eggs and flour Monday, prompting the officers to respond with tear gas to keep them away from the National Assembly. Hundreds of protesters, many wearing chef's hats and banging pots, converged on the parliament to demand that the 20.6% value-added tax on restaurants be cut to the 5.5% rate that fast-food establishments such as McDonald's enjoy.

France's passionate romance with tobacco and smoking dates back to the 16th Century, when a young diplomat named Jean Nicot introduced the plant into the royal court as a miracle cure. After trying it herself, Queen Catherine de' Medici endorsed tobacco as a treatment for migraine. Tobacco was soon the rage of the court. Jean Nicot was feted as the discoverer of the new drug "nicotine."

Vamonos, amigos, into the Paris night. Skip past those intimate, hallowed dining salons, where food is an art to be savored and critiqued. Ignore those crowded bistros, brasseries and cafes. Instead, head for Cafe Pacifico, on the Left Bank, where the French diners are shooting seven brands of tequila.

France's passionate romance with tobacco and smoking dates back to the 16th Century, when a young diplomat named Jean Nicot introduced the plant into the royal court as a miracle cure. After trying it herself, Queen Catherine de' Medici endorsed tobacco as a treatment for migraine. Tobacco was soon the rage of the court. Jean Nicot was feted as the discoverer of the new drug "nicotine."