No one should leave this wonderful town without stopping in at Maison Empereur. The oldest hardware store in France is still run by the Empereur family who pride themselves on the breadth of their offerings. In addition to an astonishing array of cookware, ceramics, linens and hardware necessities, they have a small upstairs museum which includes this traveling salesman’s case from Japy, a company that existed from 1777 to 1979.
Just down the street you’ll also want to visit L’Epicerie Ideal, a remarkably well-stocked store/restaurant where you can buy, among other things, these excellent and hard to find pinenuts
When you’re ready for another side of Marseille, you can’t do better than Le Petit Nice, the three-star establishment run by third generation chef, Gerald Passedat. Leaving one friend said, “That was the best meal of my life,” and I couldn’t disagree.
Sun-drenched, with its face to the sea, the restaurant is a southern dream, white curtains blowing in the breeze as the intoxicating scent of the ocean floods the air. It is easy to surrender to the mood: the food is gorgeous, delicious, lovingly served. A few highlights in a meal of many small astonishing flavors.
Marseille on a plate: tomatoes, olives, fragrant herbs.
Eating your vegetables has never seemed more appealing: artichokes, beets, radishes and carrots snuggled beneath a clear gelatin coat.
The blue soup? Fish broth. The dumpling? Chard.
After a deliriously delicious parade of openers (there were a LOT more), this first course which Passedat calls Southern Fish in White Caravan: sliced bottarga and caviar embracing thin sheets of fish.
A “garden of fish” in herbs with a seashell jelly; each tiny distinct bite packed an extraordinary punch.
A Passedat classic. I have never had a more eloquent argument for fish than this Loup Lucie Passedat, named for the chef’s grandmother (an opera singer who was the muse of Louis Lumiere).
One huge carabinero snatched from the fire at the perfect moment. Somewhere between raw and cooked, the texture is both tender and firm. Like no shrimp you’ve encountered before, this is lightly kissed with fenugreek and served on fennel.
Nougat - the star of a lengthy dessert parade.
Waking from this reverie, I knew I could not possibly eat dinner.
I was wrong.
Our final meal in Marseille was at the new Bouillon, a tiny bistro run by 27 year old chef, butcher and meat specialist Auregan Dean. The small, focused menu is a carnivore’s dream offering simple, superb food. I will let it speak for itself.
The sausage of the moment.
Head cheese.
Ravioli filled with clams and mussels and topped with cheese in an intense fish soup.
Pavlova: meringue, cream, figs and mint.
These two excellent and very different restaurants offer two ways to experience this very considerable town. I cannot wait to go back.
Coming soon: notes from Nice, Menton and Paris.
Dear Ruth - Thank you for another wonderful article. I have read all of your books and especially enjoyed your tenure at Gourmet Magazine. I have numerous bound copies, binders and stacks of Gourmet that I cannot seem to get rid of, being now even more precious due to its demise. In the 60s Gourmet offered a lifetime subscription for, I believe, $60! I grabbed it and when it was shut down it was automatically replaced by BA which, IMHO, has gone from just annoying to annoying and pathetic. Anyway, yesterday I ran across the 2009 Thanksgiving copy of Gourmet and what a wonderful edition - was this the last copy? You made Gourmet a true piece of culinary literature and I so miss it! Sorry for getting a bit off subject, but finding this magazine prompted me to want to thank you again for your contribution to literature and cuisine. Merci bien!
I was last in marseilles mire than 20 years ago (pre 9/11 by my reckoning) in late june when an astonishing garlic fair (foire à l’ail) took place for the feast of St-Jean. A dozen or so garlic farmers presented their offerings fresh from the fields and in many guises. I wonder if it still happens.