Bonny Bonnieux

Bonnieux, picturesque home to the Celts, Romans, and Knights Templiers, is filled with cobblestone paths leading up steep inclines with quaint homes cut out of the mountain and decorated with a strung clothesline.

Tummies grumbling for food, Mama and I took our little Fiat up and down the vertical paths in an attempt to find Bleu De Toi, a restaurant that I’d read about in many travelers’ reviews. After asking a few locals about the restaurant’s location, we managed to arrive, only to find out that we had fifteen minutes until the restaurant opened.

A local woman carrying her groceries happened to walk by and we asked her which restaurant that she would recommend. She spoke little English, but she mentioned the name Le Fournil‎, a nice looking restaurant that we’d seen around the corner. Le Fournil didn’t open until 7:30, and it was 7:00 p.m.; though we were quite hungry, we decided to go to Le Fournil, the local’s suggestion, rather than to Bleu De Toi or the other surrounding restaurants.

“Do you like Le Fournil?” We asked some nearby shop owners. They replied that it was special, and a bit pricey, and suggested repeatedly that we go to a fabulous pizza joint instead. But no! We wanted a fabulous gourmet meal, and we were willing to go all out tonight! So we sat outside Le Fournil, watching the chefs, waiters, and owners go in and out for thirty minutes, before quickly getting a table.

Bubbly and effusive, the waiter seemed to dance up the stairs, leading us to a table for two, near the cave wall. The waiter made a few suggestions and we ordered the following:

Apéritif:

Rin Quin Quin
Peach liquor

Les Entrées:
Lapin roulé, artichauts, cuits et crus, béatilles aux herbs.
Rabbit, rolled with artichokes, topped with liver and herbs, garnished with a mixed green, artichoke, and carrot salad.

Préssée de raie et poireaux, vinaigrette câpres et cĭtron.
A tower of raw skate, adorned with leeks, along with a caper salad drizzled with lemon dressing.

Les Plats Principaux:
Agneau de lait rôti, Matígnon de fruits secs et pommes de terre fondants.
Roasted lamb sprinkled with fruit sauce and served with potatoes.

Piece de proc de Pigorre, mitonnée de l legumes á la sauge.
Braised bull in a bed of sautéed vegetables flavored with sage.

Les Desserts:
Parfait glace miel de lavande et marmalade de cerises au sirop.
Lavender ice with honey marmalade in a cherry glaze.

Le baba au rhum généreux.
Rum cake in raspberry syrup.

Have you ever eagerly awaited something that did not turn out how you expected? Of course you have – but have you done so in an expensive French restaurant? It’s always fun to garner new experiences and have a story, even if the story wasn’t at all what you’d hoped.

Our meal began with the arrival of chilled cauliflower and caviar soup garnished with fresh chives. Mama could have died. It was exactly the fishy taste that makes her face contort into the funniest of grimaces.

After eating enough to seem appreciative of the on-the-house special, we awaited our appetizers. So excited that we’d decided to splurge and each get a three course meal, we couldn’t wait to try the exquisite fare that we’d imagined was a 95€ French fine-dining experience.

As we waited, we amused ourselves by watching the waiter deliver soup to the surrounding tables; as people took their first bite, we stared with humor, hoping to catch their expressions as the fish egg burst in their mouths. Somehow, the French and Italians seated next to us seemed to like it fine, one table going on to order a whole large bowl full of the concoction!

With flourish, the effervescent waiter delivered our plates, and what a pretty decorative masterpiece they were. The expressions on our faces as we delicately cut and placed the food on our tongues were priceless. Both the rabbit and the skate were raw! The icy temperature of the rabbit, coupled with the dark liver crumbles on top transformed my features.

“Don’t eat it if you’re going to puke!! Here, let’s swap.” Mama said generously. “ You might want to just eat the leeks off the top of the fish,” she continued, as she passed me her plate of the biggest circular sushi I’d ever seen.

The fish was palatable…I only gagged twice. The only redeemable qualities in the two icy appetizers were the mixed greens served on the side. Our waiter seemed a bit deflated when he retrieved our plates, which resembled the dissected dinner of a picky ten-year-old.

Wary and beginning to make a joke of our 95€ dining experience, Mama and I continued to watch our neighbors dine, awaiting the minute grimace or serious working of throat muscles. Our entrées, while not bad, were not as delicious as the restaurant reviews had led us to believe. The lamb was tough and had quite a bit of fat surrounding it. The bull and sage vegetables were quite good, although the bull was not tender either. Neither entrée represented the work of a renowned chef or fine dining restaurant. Hoping that our desserts would keep us from stopping by a gyro shop on the way out of town, we surrendered our entrée plates to the restaurant owner, dressed in jeans and a button-up top with bright red glasses.

“Well, it sure is rummy!” I said, and as my eyes squenched up, the Italian beside me began to chuckle. My rum cake was doused in rum – so pungent and squishy that it must have soaked in ¾ cup of rum. “Ew! I hate squishy desserts,” Mama commented. “Don’t eat that – just share mine!”

Mama’s lavender ice with honey marmalade in a cherry glaze was delicious – light with hints of honey, lavender, and orange, in a sweet raspberry-cherry sauce. With a texture like ice cream, each bite seemed to melt on our tongues. I couldn’t countenance eating all of Mama’s dessert, so since I’m partial to squishy desserts, I finished the rum cake, which didn’t make me breathe fire as much if I made sure to get fruit sauce on the cake.

Mama took my keys as I laughed and weaved out of the restaurant. A waste of 95€, Le Fournil was quite a memorable experience, but doesn’t compare to our delicious traipse through France at restaurants were our bill totaled 45€. Lesson learned: Fancy French food and Provincial French country food are not the same! Maybe we should have taken the store owner's advice and gone out for French pizza?

** Post Script: Once burned, twice shy, so they say. Mama and I did not visit another French restaurant during this trip. Instead, we frequented local markets, buying fresh French cheeses, breads, and pastries, and picnicked in the squares.