Edition: U.S. / Global

CHOICE TABLES; Food for the Soul, Lyonnais Style

Published: December 31, 2000

LONG considered France's capital of gastronomy, Lyon is blessed with culinary history as rich as its extraordinary produce. Not only does it have a galaxy of starred restaurants but it also has styles of eating unique to it: from the cooking of its ''mothers'' (the city has always been known for its restaurants run by women, and often named for them, as in La Mere Brazier) to the ''machons'' (now translated as an informal meal) that fed its silk workers, to its ''bouchons,'' perhaps its most venerable -- and arguably its most lovable -- gastronomic institution.

Several theories surround the origin of the name ''bouchon,'' all of them related to the horse and carriage era. The most likely hypothesis is that the name derives from the pine branches -- bousche in old French -- put over the doors of cabarets to indicate that wine could be drunk there. Over time, bouche became bouchon.

Today Lyon has 20 true bouchons and a lot of fakes and hybrids. A society, Les Authentiques Bouchons Lyonnais, protects the patrimony. It takes as its patron saint the redoubtable Gnafron, the chronically tipsy friend of Guignol, the comical puppet original to Lyon. And every bona fide bouchon posts the official insignia -- a plaque depicting Gnafron raising a glass.

Most bouchons are situated in well-traveled sections of Lyon, near the Hotel de Ville, for example, or the Opera. All are distinctly casual, very popular (reservations are a must) and filled with Lyonnais. The design elements are similar: aside from the bouchon plaque, diplomas from one or several Lyonnais eating societies like the Confrerie des Francs Machons (surely a gourmand's play on freemason, francs macons). There is Guignol paraphernalia everywhere, and the menu is nearly identical from one bouchon to the next.

While execution may vary enormously, the food is the essence of homeyness. You're likely to find a number of bistro staples -- from mackerel with white wine to Lyon's celebrated charcuterie to tete de veau and pike quenelles (the delicate dumplings are a Lyonnais specialty) -- as well as dishes peculiar to bouchons.

These include Lyonnais salads composed of dandelion greens or frisee lettuce tossed with bacon, croutons and poached egg; salads of sheep's feet seasoned with a tart remoulade sauce; gateau de foie de volaille (somewhat like a steamed pudding made of chicken livers) served in a bechamel sauce and garnished with quenelles or ravioli; sabodet, a sausage made of pig's head; and tripe, tripe and more tripe -- as in gras double (blanched, sauteed and simmered) and tablier de sapeur, the most boucho nesque of all dishes: a large wedge of tripe marinated in wine, breaded and fried and served with a piquant sauce.

Cervelles de canut, fresh cheese beaten with creme fraiche and seasoned with wine, vinegar, chives, shallots and parsley, comes with the cheese course, as do fromage fort -- a pungent blend of many leftover cheeses dosed with wine -- and St.-Marcellin, a cheese I had never tasted properly ripened until this trip to Lyon, where I never had a less than perfect version. Praline tarts are the only surprise in an uninventive dessert repertory that is stocked with creme caramel and riz au lait.

It is often said that Lyon is crossed by three rivers, the Rhone, the Saone and the Beaujolais, the wine most closely associated with the city. Beaujolais and its crus (Morgon, for example, and Chiroubles) as well as wines from the northern Rhone like St.-Joseph, are usually all that's available and they are most frequently served by the ''pot,'' a 16-ounce bottle. Nothing elegant here but it all goes down very easily, as my friends Annette and Pascal and I learned on a delectable gustatory spree several months ago.

Le Garet

We all have our own fantasy France. This is mine. Convivial, warm and inviting, Le Garet seems always to have existed, an eternal second home to serious eaters. Its decor is classic bistro -- a red velvet curtain at the door, red Leatherette banquettes, mirrors with daily specials, tall vases of fresh flowers and bric-a-brac. And there are individual touches -- the wall mural painted 60 years ago by a Lyonnais artist, crisp white linen covering vintage card tables. Michel Laurent, the owner, and the matronly waitresses joke with habituees and newcomers alike. Complete strangers offer tastes of their dishes. A meal here engenders such a sense of well-being and bonhomie that, despite the trenchermen-like portions of cholesterol-loaded food, it should qualify as a medical deduction.

Order cochonnailles (charcuterie) and get a tray of bouchon staples: tart and mustardy museau (beef muzzle) vinaigrette, perfect lentil salad, chunks of cervelas (sausage) and a salad of gelatinous and well-seasoned pied de veau and beef tripe. The salad du marche is the standard Lyonnais mix of poached egg, bacon and homemade croutons, here on a bed of dandelion greens. It could not be more appetizing. The feuillete de pomme de terre is a two-crusted pie of very buttery, fresh puff pastry encasing nicely seasoned potatoes.