Hotel La Flambee, 2 Route de Chevigny, 21800 Sennecy Les Dijon

Well, at first I thought I was doomed to a night in Dijon after taking a colleague’s dossier to help him out during our busy November season.  Dijon, lying in the middle of Bourgogne, renown and beloved wine region of France and a wine-lovers and gourmand’s hub for all things glorious in French cuisine. Despite this I have somehow had a terrible dislike for Dijon these past years having passed through multiple times and been repeatedly disappointed.   I happened to be pleasantly surprised this evening and of course won over again by half-assed, snobbish French hospitality and full-assed awesome food and wine.

So here I am at the La Flambée, a hotel I booked on a whim on Logishotels.com this afternoon five minutes before I hit the road.  I was first surprised at the goofy architecture of the lodge; curved wood roofs, a detached restaurant, and wall paper covered in little ribbons and crimson drapes that made me feel I was about to go on stage at a cabaret at any moment.  Oh, and spiral staircases in a tower leading to my room. 

My waiter was a pear shaped, coke-bottled glasses wearing 60 year old professional with a wicked limp.  He corrected my pronunciation of my wine order straight off the bat, telling me it was not a “sick” wine but a Maladiere.  (“malade” means sick, and Maladiere is the appellation)  I am pretty sure he cut me off though before I got out the “-iere” part.  Pfff….anyway.   The battle was on to prove I wasn’t a total American douche nozzle.   I began to pick his brain on every aspect of the meal, restaurant history, and find out more about the wine appellations and grape sorts of my curious, blind wine order. 

My menu was restricted to the “Soiree Etape”, which means that the meal and my breakfast are part of the room price at 93 Euros.   So my options on starters were limited to 10 items, the plate to 5 options, and cheese or dessert. 

Entree: Œuf en meurette.

Plat: Bœuf Bourguignon a l’ancien.

Dessert : 3 cheese plate

Dessert 2 : whisky

I began per usual with a cold croly, Heineken.  Why Heineken in France?  Simply because I hate French beer and Heineken is damn good.   I ordered a half bottle of wine from the Bourgogne red list without consulting the sommelier because frankly I like surprises and in general most Burgundy reds in the Cote de Beaune or Cote de Nuit should just be trusted anyway.   The appellation was Santenay Maladiere 2007, 1^st Cru Controlee (Domaine Prieur-Brunet), from the Cote de Beaune.   The grape is Pinot Noir.   The wine was quite strong at 13.5 %, but not strong bodied.  Light colored wine, with very little fruity aromas or tannins.  Robust, but so dangerously drinkable.   This is typical of Cote de Beaune, whereas Cote de Nuit tend to have more tannins and fruity aromas. 

For my entree I chose Œuf en Meurette, a typical, warm burgundy entree consisting of 2 poached eggs over garlic toasted bread, floating over the meurette sauce.  Meurette sauce is the same sauce you get in Boeuf Bourguignon: red burgundy wine with white pearl onions, lardons,  shallots, and mixed spices.  The sauce was very rich as it should be, I didn’t need to add any salt, and it went perfectly with the beer and my first tasting of the Santenay Maladiere. 

The boeuf bourguignon was served with roasted eggplant and a side of pommes de terre au gratin dauphinois.  The beef was everything it should be, no knife necessary.   The potatoes were screaming butter on the first bite, but that all melted away into approval seconds later.  I never realized that roasted eggplant might have a bitter taste?  I wasn’t sure, but after several bites was convinced that it might be true.  The little pot of Dijon mustard and some salt masked this just fine.  My eggplant experience extends only to Baba Ghanoush where the garlic, salt, lemon, and tahini mask any bitterness. 
Excellent dish. 

For dessert I had a cheese plate to complement the last crumbs of bread and remaining red on the table.  1 slice of Brie, 1 slice of Camembert, 1 slice of Bourgogne cremeux (spicy and sharp) 

My digestive was a local “whisky” called Marc de Bourgogne, made with grapes and stems of grapes instead of grains.  It is distilled just as a whisky and stored in oak barrels.   Marc de “whatever” is common all over France, varying on the grape strains to give unique flavors.  Marc de Champagne, Marc de Jura, Cognac….same family.  The French like grapes and stay away from grain whiskeys. 

The restaurant was built in 1974, but burned down in 1978.  The owner rebuilt the entire building by hand using the Compagnons du tour de France.  This is a group of traveling craftsmen that go through apprenticeships and then master their craft while on their journeys.  The building was rebuilt by hand artisans in every aspect of old tradition.  My waiter showed me some structural aspects of the hall, noting that all the wood corners and contours were bent using steam methods, and all the nails were from wood.   I sat under a 3 tiered wrought-iron chandelier, with a wrought iron French rooster guarding over us perched on the main wood beam of the hall.

Food: ****
Service:****
Price: *****

You can't beat Soiree Etape in France, but they are really hit and miss.  This was a total hit, so for 1 night, dinner, and breakfast in a beautiful hotel, 93 euros is outstanding.  I highly recommend this place if ever in Dijon region. 

Le Clem, Brasserie, Courbevoie 92400

Greeted cordially by a 60-something, grinning, curdoreyed covered man, I was placed onto a table for two in the wee corner of The Clem next to the window.  Assuring me that he was not punishing me by this remote seating arrangement, but merely placing his customers by stringent logistical applications, he coyly winked and sat me at the table.  His wife rolled over in her I "heart" Le Clem apron and brought me the daily menu. 

Menu du Jour: entree + plat ou plat + dessert for 14 Euros
Menu traditionelle complete: entree + plat + dessert for 17 Euros.

Sally up Greggy, 3 euros more for a little extra for that growing spare tire...but of course.
The menu was a very standard, authentic French line-up, with a special focus on the Aveyron region and a house recommendation of charcuterie from the Aveyron.  I opted for the daily special (17 euros). 

Entree: Brick de Chevre
Plat: Rognons de Veau (veal liver in a mushroom, cream sauce) with boiled potato
Dessert: Banana Spleet (seriously spelled like this)

I began the starter with a demi Stella Artois and paved my way through the Brick.  On a bed of lettuce with a bit of dressing, the Brick was quite good.  I am not a huge Brick de Chevre eater, so I don't have much to judge it on, but the size was appropriate, the walnuts tasted fresh, the melty cheese delicious (as is all melted cheese), and it went well with the cold croly.  (beer)

The baby cow livers came pooring out with some steaming taters, and the blood from the liver began to coagulate into the creamy-porto mushroom sauce.  I'll be needing red wine for this.
1 Glass of Brouilly.   Not much more to say than excellent.  If you can get by textures, please try liver, because it is, frankly, fucking awesome.

The pride and joy of corderoy chef man was his Banana Spleet.  The staff warned me that it is not ice cream, but their house specialty; a banana puree with chocolate mousse and some chantilly.  Fine...I'll have it.
"I am the only man ever to do this creation!" said the conceded corderoy chef man.  At the first bite I was already obliged to entertain him, albeit it was only the chantilly part that made it into my mouth.  He looked over to me with a look in his eyes as to say, "See, I told you it was fuckin amazing."  Oh the cockiness shone off his bald head like chrome on a Cadillac.  "Dare I ask how you made such a creation my dear chef?" I asked, knowing very well the recipe.  "Don't ask, just recognize the fact that it is BRILLIANT!"  he jeered.
Being me, I just plain out started rolling off the recipe in front of him.  "Umm, let me guess, bananas in a blender with creme anglaise, chocolate mousse on top, with some raspberry colis, and whipped cream?" I retorted.  "Yes, that is it, but with some jelly! " he replied.  "How often do you make that...once a week or just when you have extra bananas lying around?" I asked.  "Yes, something like this." replied cordy the chef.

I paid my tab, complimented the cross-eyed, I "heart" Le Clem lady on her fantastic set of IKEA water glasses, slammed an espresso au comptoir and headed back to the flat.

Food: **
Service: ***
Price: ***

Warm reception, open kitchen with active noise, large coffee bar, nice table settings, very clean, and extremely friendly and kind service.  Always smiling and that is important.
25.40 Euros meal, demi beer, 1 glass wine, and 1 espresso.  Expensive for lunch, but I ate more than one normally would for a french lunch with 2 adult beverages.   Normally one would spend 17 Euros here for lunch which is correct for Paris.