Fresh lunch in Cassis

Jean-Marie proudly displays our soon-to-be lunch

CASSIS -- The eyes of Jean-Marie, the chatty owner/chef at Le Bonaparte Restaurant, light up when he learns of our choice to take the fresh fish for four - today a handsome-looking loup (sea bass) that dwarfed its smaller Mediterranean cousins on the fish of the day plate just presented to us. "I must get it right away," he says urgently, perhaps fearing the doomed fish would learn of its fate and attempt to flop its way through the narrow alleys and streets back into the port of Cassis.

We had read about Bonaparte from the trusty Routard (the Marseille edition that Elisabeth had picked up during yesterday's visit to France's second city). It warned of lousy service but excellent food. The recommendation on the food was seconded in a post by my favorite Provencal-blogger-who-also-follows-my-blog (a very competitive category), Sarah in Le Petit Village, so clearly the secret was out. A New York Times article from 1991 featuring Jean-Marie is proudly posted in all of its yellowing glory on the restaurant's wall, confirming the restaurant and the owner as bona fide famous. Jean-Marie humbly admitted he was ranked number one CityVox (kinda like the French version of Trip Advisor) but his joint was anything but touristique (in fact the Routard had suggested it was a favorite among locals, always a  good sign).

After a bit of a search to locate it -Le Bonaparte is off the more populated main walkway along the port and is inconspicous in its appearance and location - we easily found a table amongst a thin mid-week crowd.  The poisson du jour plate filled with silvery fish of various sizes and facial expressions was presented by one of Jean-Marie's guys, and despite yesterday's bouilabaisse gluttony, we chose the full-on fish treatment again (taking Hubert's advice to avoid the smaller, bonier rouget fish). Jean-Marie interrupted the lecture on French wines he was giving us to dash into the kitchen and secure the catch for us, returning in short order to display it himself.

A bottle of a local white wine that Jean-Marie recommended magically appeared, dispelling the Routard's claim of inadequate service - and quickly educating us that Cassis wines rivaled those of its more famous wine producing neighbor, Bandol. We later stopped at the Chatueu de Frontcreuse (another recommendation from Jean-Marie) on our way out of town where Toni grabbed a pair of local rose's.

The fresh came, neatly chopped and served simply in olive oil and butter, accompanied by a fresh veggy-laden ratatouille. Jean-Marie took special care to make sure Toni got one set of the coveted cheeks. Suffice to say we left Le Bonaparte tres satisfied from the fresh seafood lunch (which also included marinated mussels and local oysters), with even more confidence in the Routard (and a tip of the beret to Sarah - me thinks I need only follow in her virtual footsteps to enjoy the best that Provence has to offer). As promised, Jean-Marie was a gracious and entertaining host, and deserved of the high praise that has been reaped upon his establishment

Cassis: Reeking of charm

We thoroughly enjoyed the day trip to Cassis, a quaint little seaside hamlet about 30 clicks east of Marseille and only about 30 minutes and 5 euro's in tolls from our house. It's best known for its colanques, which are easily visited by any number of tour boats that chug in and out of the small harbour (or less easily on one of Isabel's hiking club tours). There also is a fine beach there, and a bit of shopping in the overpriced upscale boutiques, which kept the girls occupied for a while.

If you like scenic seaside villages dripping in local charm and flavor, Cassis is a definite must-see in this part of the world, an opinion shared by greater observers of France than I. With a final acknowledgment to my blogger buddy Sarah, who borrowed them first, consider the words of the great poet (better known now as the man was lent his name to the wind), Frederic Mistral:

"He who has seen Paris and hasn't seen Cassis can say I have seen nothing."