Bouchon

A "bouchon" is a cork. Kind of like the one that comes out of a wine bottle (in fact, exactly like that!). So we've come across the occasional bouchon. A French bouchon is not all that different from an Aussie cork - but far more plentiful; due in part to the French distaste for the wonderful stelvin (ie screwcap), and in part to our goal to learn as much about French wine as possible - and there's only one true way to learn.....

We were very fortunate in sneaking a bouchon out of a bottle today for lunch - surprisingly rare, and in this case most unexpected. Em's boss Cyrille was heading to a restaurant in Craponne (a popular village it seems!!) to do a delivery of wine and asked Em to join him in the trip. We (the rest of the family) thought we'd head along too. In turns out (gee our French must be bad!) that Cyrille was having lunch there, and we joined him in what was a wonderful feast. Oh how the French do long lunches well! The Foie Gras was extraordinary, despite not being in season (who knew force feeding ducks had a season!?!?!); Em's lamb wonderful, and I tackled the local speciality Rognon - which it turned out (after I ordered it) to be kidney. It was however, pretty good - and certainly went well with the Cotes du Rhone wine :-) Em's tasting notes reveal:

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Cotes due Rhone 2006 B.A.E.C Jamet, Jean-Paul et Jean-Luc

Drank this wine at Lunch with Cyrille, Tom (and kids) in Craponne. The nose was very floral and fruity with red fruits (fruit rouge), strawberry and a very little touch of oak. The wine was only medium bodied but a lovely balance between the red fruit flavours and the developed and complex characters. The wine lingered on the palate and was a perfect accompaniment to the millefeuille of agneau with aubergine that I had for lunch (oooh.. and the 2 types of fois gras we had for entrée) Score 17 Price €20 on restaurant price list – Cyrille reckons €6 from the producer.

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However, a bouchon is also a plug - as in bath. You wouldn't think all that different to Australia, however we seem to have had quite a few issues. Due to our own incompetence more than any poor design, multiple forks have been sacrificed to "de-bouchoning" the bath.

Remarkably a bouchon is also special type of restaurant in Lyon - that specialises in Lyonnaise food. High in meat and fat - it is as yet unsampled by us, but apparently wondrous. We've had quite a few recommended, so will hopefully soon be embarking on this 3rd kind of bouchon with gusto.

There is however a 4th type of bouchon. We only knew of the cork and the bistro versions when we noticed the word, flashing in yellow above the motorway. While the option of a wonderful restaurant, 3km ahead doing some innovative advertising was appealing, the result instead was a traffic jam. Bouchon. As Em's (other) boss explained today - "imagine a map of Europe - there is Northern Europe, and Southern Europe (ie South of France, Spain, Portugal). All of the North comes to the South for the holidays. And then they all return. And in order to bring tourists and commerce to city, they build the motorway right through Lyon." Instead, all it brings is cars. And one big bouchon for the last week in August.

Bringing back memories of our first car trip in France, we tackled this bouchon with two kids on the edge of hunger and tiredness, but figured they'd last the 15min trip to Lyon, before a stroll, some dinner and an ice-cream would sort them out. Hannah even fell asleep 2 minutes into the journey, so our decision to go was looking justified. It's just that she woke 45min later, and we were in reality still 45min away. More (justifiably) screaming kids.

And unlike boules players vs lawn bowls players - there's nothing romantic about French bouchon. It's just like an Aussie traffic jam - just with more Peugeots and Renaults. We were concluding a wonderful day that we'd spent with Lilou and Arno with a trip to the old part of Lyon when we struck the bouchon. Given time was now against us, it was obvious a new plan was called for; luckily we were able to simply get out of our respective cars and meet to discuss the next steps.

The wonderful Lilou had been instrumental in getting us setup in France - particularly finding us our accommodation, so it was fitting that she and Arno were our first guests in our "proper" abode; having only moved this week, we are now ensconced on what will be our home for the next 10 weeks or so until we leave. Click here to check it out on Google maps. It's great to be in our final house - feels a bit more settled. It's not often rented out, so not setup perfectly, but nothing that a trip to Ikea and the local Auchan couldn't fix. And the extra space, grass, rooms and wonderful hosts more than make up for any deficiencies in things like crockery!

Cork's pretty much the same, but more prevalent. Plugs surprisingly different. Traffic jams the same the world over. One thing that has stood out as being remarkable are Hair Dressers. "Coiffeurs" are by far the most well lit, marketed, branded and obvious store in every village. There's always a few, even in a village with only 1 cafe. And while you might struggle to notice the quaint restaurant as you drive through, the coiffeur has neon signs guiding you from before you leave the freeway.

And on the subject of driving.... what is it with give way to the right? I realise it's the same as Australia, but bizarrely it appears to often apply at T-intersections?? I'm attempting to educate the French that there are better ways... 1 driver at a time. And while they freely stop on the through road to let in a car from some obscure side street due to "give way to the right", pedestrian crossings are merely reminders of Beatles album covers.

Another obvious difference is the greeting. At every store "bonjour" as you enter is mandatory. It can sometimes be a bit weird that you can't sneak into your local 7-11 equivalent for a litre of mik without personally greeting the owner, but I think it's nice. And of course leaving requires more dialogue than a Bush administration diplomat. "Merci. Au Revoir. A bientot. Bonne Journee. Ciao. Goodbye. Adios."

What was amazing - and lovely - was the greetings we received at a party we recently crashed. Our friend Tony from Sydney was in town, and he invited us to where he was staying. We didn't realise that it was their daughter's surprise 18th birthday party that night (at their place). But our hosts - Jean-Michael and Christine - were very warm and inviting. The incredible experience though was when each of the guests arrived, they would say hi to their friends, and then come over to us and say bonjour - with a kiss on each cheek. Whenever someone new would arrive, the round of cheek kissing began, and each one of them made sure to come and saw welcome. It was touching - and a sign of maturity and sincerity that I'd love our kids to have at that age.

The other event that Tony managed to organise for us while he was in town, was to watch the Bledisloe at some other friends over a couple of beers. It was a great afternoon, and lovely to meet some more friends of Tony's (and kiss some more cheeks); until of course the result. So I've decided to give Bouchon one more definition: "the loss of the Bledisloe cup and Ashes in 1 weekend". 10 years ago it was unthinkable we needed such a word.

More photos by clicking below:

Bouchon