AMUSE-BOUCHE: Avocado mousse with herb oil, tomato soup and olive quenelle, and shrimp with saffron. Credit: Jon Palmer Claridge

AMUSE-BOUCHE: Avocado mousse with herb oil, tomato soup and olive quenelle, and shrimp with saffron. Credit: Jon Palmer Claridge


Zooming south on the TGV train from Paris to Lyon at 180 mph is surprisingly serene. The beauty of the French countryside, dotted with sheep, never fails to amaze. The ride is so smooth and easy that it makes Rick Scott's rejection of high-speed rail from Tampa to Orlando sting anew.

I've come on a pilgrimage. Lyon is a Francophile foodie's version of Mecca. For it's here, in France's third largest city, that "chef of the century" Paul Bocuse earned his third Michelin star… in 1965. That's why he's so revered, but it's been the family business since the 17th century. Thus, it's not surprising that the biennial world chef championship — the globe's greatest gastronomic trophy — is called the "Bocuse d'Or."

I rarely dine out alone, when my only obligation is to taste and observe, so my "Grande Tradition Classique" degustation in the corner of the Bocuse flagship's ornate dining room is a three-hour performance.

 It's part circus, part ballet, as a brigade of servers in dark suits partner with young svelte runners in white dinner jackets, gliding past with huge sterling silver trays. They seamlessly navigate the ins and outs of Michelin perfection. There are fragrant truffles, a crackling puff pastry dome of impossible height and luscious foie gras.

Sautéed duck foie gras, featuring poached pears and passion fruit sauce. Credit: Jon Palmer Claridge

A middle-aged son at the next table sweetly tears up with overflowing emotion as an organ grinder plays in a single-candle birthday cake for his 80-year-old-ish mother, whose hands fly to her lips as she gasps with joy. Her white hair is in sharp contrast to her elegant black dress that would make Chanel proud.

Little does the party know that the keen-eyed American food critic to their right is having the time of his life, too. However, he also tears up after noticing bottles of Petrus and Romanée-Conti, two of the world's finest and most expensive wines, being poured to celebrate. They're just beyond his reach, but way beyond his budget.

So near, and yet so far.

Editor's note: CL food critic Jon Palmer Claridge is in France doing "research."

This article appears in Jul 2-8, 2015.

Jon Palmer Claridge—Tampa Bay's longest running, and perhaps last anonymous, food critic—has spent his life following two enduring passions, theatre and fine dining. He trained as a theatre professional...