There are many, many wonderful things about being with Raschinna. Beauty, brains, class, drive and an accent (St. Vincent in the Grenadines by way of Brooklyn) that I heard an admirer claim he could listen to forever! Hmmm —— . Raschinna is as a Certified Destination Specialist. That translates to travel. Her specialty is upscale travel – and that’s a wonderful thing.
A FAM trip is a professional educational excursion that is extended to travel agents by properties (hotels, resorts, restaurants) worldwide that are anxious to show their wares off. The purpose is to familiarize the agent with the site and the guest services available so that it can be recommended on a first hand basis. In other words they are trumpeting ‘these are the same accommodations, service and food that your high rolling, upscale clients can expect if they stay with us’. On one memorable trip to France in the fall of 2000 the FAM trip was all about wonderful first class accommodations, lovely views, beautiful weather, pleasant chunks of history and more than anything else – it is France, after all – food.
After a day in London Raschinna and I boarded a train for France. I remember a security guard allowing me travel through the Chunnel (the tunnel that stretches under the English Channel) with a pocket knife in my back pocket. (Pre 9/11 bliss, I assume.) On our first night in Paris we met the other ten couples that we would be hanging with for the duration of the trip. Even though half of us were travel agents and there was a lot of shop talk everybody was pretty cool. The competitiveness they work with didn’t seep down to spouses and significant others. We even managed to steer clear of politics – most of the time. The Gore vs. Bush spectacle (the general election version) was entering into its final stages so steering clear of that really wasn’t all that easy. Especially where the Parisians were concerned. If they noticed that you were American they would seek you out and chastise you for even considering voting Bush in. I guess we showed them. Ouch ——
Our first real meal in Paris was at Bernard Loiseau’s chez Tante Marguerite. Mr. Loiseau was at the time one of the top three chefs in France which makes him among the top ten in the world. I guess that means the man knows how to cook. In 2000 he had a three star restaurant in Paris, another three star chateau/restaurant in Burgundy and he was fast becoming a brand name in the international stage of fine cuisine. I remember well his broad smile and effusive manner. You could really feel that he loved what he was doing in his life. Lucky guy.
Our group was in a private dining room and what I remember most was how unfamiliar the food looked on the plate and how utterly delicious it was to consume. Luckily Raschinna kept me from licking the plate —- I was close, though. Our hostess, Madame Loiseau told us we were eating a “simple” French meal. If she says so.
The next day we toured Paris and did some lightweight sight seeing. We nibbled light hotel food that night. I believed that they were setting us up. The next day we boarded a train to Saulieu, a town in Burgundy, where we the guests at Mr. Loiseau’ Relais & Chateaux. Madame Loiseau and her famous husband had refurbished an old chateau, opened a hotel, installed a state of the art kitchen and dining area and let it rip.
Benard Loiseau’s Cote D’or proved to be a class act. The suites were wonderful, the chateau was beautiful, the Burgundy countryside was picturesque in a storybook sort of way. But the real star of this show was the food. Judging by the clientele in the dining room this place had an international customer base more than willing to shell out $800 (plus) on a meal for two. In our case this is where the serious consumption started.
Every day – for five days straight – started off with a hearty breakfast. I’m talking HEARTY here. Some sight seeing ensued and that was followed by another hearty meal. All of this was topped off in the evening by a seven course (that’s right, seven) gourmet meal from the “Grand Menu Degustation” in the formal dining room. Every meal was the full Monty – appetizers, soup, salad, the main course, a second main course, the cheese cart, desert, coffee, sherry, brandy, fine cigars. The works. And of course everything came with some of the finest wine available. The presentation of each dish was a work of art in itself. The whole dining experience was, for lack of a better term, beyond special. The Loiseaus put on quite a show.
Now bear in mind that these fine, three hour minimum meals were being served to working Americans who are lucky to eat one good meal a day. The food was outstanding. Every meal was better than the last. It sounds crazy but it is true. My taste buds and those of my fellow travelers were on some kind of unforgettable junket in which once they were awakened they would never be the same again. And I thought that I knew what good food and wine tasted like prior to the trip. You learn something new every day, right?
Incidentally, Raschinna is a vegetarian. The same meals that everyone else enjoyed were prepared for her in a vegetarian mode. She still talks about how good they were and enthusiastically recommends this property as a vacation destination.
But then on day four a curious thing happened. We collectively hit the wall. The unpassable wall of too much gourmet cuisine. If there is such a thing as way too much good food we had reached that point. I didn’t even know that there was such a thing as too much good food but, trust me, there is. I couldn’t believe it. I was in hog heaven. I am enjoying the best food in the world and then suddenly the very thought of eating any more became off putting. Amazing. Maybe it was the time frame. Maybe it was the frame of mind brought on by watching the Gore / Bush smackdown going into overtime on CNN International. Whatever it was it was real. And the odd thing was that we wouldn’t (or couldn’t) stop eating these wonderful meals even when we knew that we had had enough. Once we all showed up in the dining room for the next scheduled meal all of that political angst went right out of the window.
The seven course meals were proving to be overwhelming – too much of a good thing – so something simpler was requested. The menu was knocked down to five courses and it was still overwhelming. All of it was damn good – but still overwhelming. (A menu of one of the five course meals follows.)
The whole ‘hitting the wall’ thing became evident one day when the group went on a field trip to a French winery. This was one of those way cool 400-year-old places with the underground catacomb-like tunnels, torch light and wine stored in great wooden barrels. At the end of the tour plates full of hors d’oeuvres and wine were presented to us. These were the kind of little snacks that taste wonderful and are pleasing to the eye. These were appetizers that you can easily fill up on because they taste so damn good. If they were served at a Super Bowl party there could easily be a fight over who gets the last one. I remember everybody looking stupefied at these lovely looking and savory treats with a collective “Oh no – more food?” vibe.
The last two nights on this leg of the trip ended with people crawling out of the dining room, walking unsteadily up to their rooms and passing out – clothes on. We were happy, fat (I had a ten pound weight gain – she’s not telling), slightly drunk and it felt good.
Day seven had our group on another train – this time to Lyon for a two day stay at Maison Pic. Maison Pic is a newer Relais & Chateau establishment. The chef there, Anna Maria Pic – while not as famous as Benard Loiseau – was an up and comer and had something to prove. So she laid it on us too. The meals weren’t as grand as they were at Loiseau’s (four courses as opposed to seven) but they were of the same universe – unbelievably delicious food and first class service.
Two days later we parted ways with our travel group and flew to Baden-Baden, Germany. We stayed for another two nights at Brenner’s Park. This place is an old spa and hotel located in the Black Forest area. Old Nazis (okay – then eighty year old former German military men) still come there to hang out. Why not? They’ve got to have some place to hang. The accommodations were, as expected, first class. And, of course – wouldn’t you know it – they had a popular restaurant, a new chef and an invitation to dine on gourmet faire at their expense. We froze, made excuses and literally ran away from yet another gourmet meal. I think we were happy eating the apples in the room that night.
The final day of the trip – a beautiful, fall Sunday in Baden-Baden – Raschinna and I went for a walk through the town. Our goal was to find some kind of unpretentious eatery (a lunch counter or a Fatburgers would have worked fine) where we could eat something simple and filling. On that walk through town – narrow, cobbled stones Bavarian streets, quaint shops – we noticed that everyone look like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Interesting.
We stopped a small outdoor café. Everybody in town seemed to be on the streets that day. It was very cool and very laid back. At the café I decided to have something simple that I’ve had hundreds of times so I chose a club sandwich with fries. Plainer than that you can’t get, right? Actually, and amazingly, that club sandwich was the best club sandwich I ever had – before or since. I couldn’t tell you what made it so special but it was that. This time Raschinna let me lick the plate. That was nice.
It was a good trip. I’m still in touch with some of those guys.
The Grim Aftermath: In February 2002, Bernard Loiseau – our gracious, ebullient host and world-class chef – committed suicide. It seems like there was talk in the culinary rumor mill that his Paris restaurant was going to lose two ratings points from a 19 rating to a 17 rating (20 represents unachievable perfection.) This was something he couldn’t live with – so he shot himself with a new hunting rifle.
I’m not sure what the lost of those two numbers means but it was enough for him to end his life. Maybe it’s a French thing. Maybe it’s a food thing. Maybe he was as passionate about his art as Van Gogh was about his. Whatever – it is beyond me. He left behind a wife, two young children and a budding culinary / hospitality empire. The story of Loiseau’s rise and premature exit is documented in the biography “The Perfectionist: Life And Death In Haute Cuisine” by Rudolph Chelminski.
Incidentally, I believe that Bernard Loiseau was the model for one of the characters in Disney / Pixar’s hit animation movie “Ratatouille”. The character even looks like him. He was the dead chef that coached the cooking rat from the afterlife.
Madame Loiseau still runs his restaurant and chateau. Business is good.
