The other day, my aunt asked me, “So you keep raving about how delicious everything is, but are there any bad meals?” Yes, of course there are. Though I generally travel with boatloads of research and a good sense of intuition, I do get stuck with bland, uninspired meals like everyone else. While in France, the quality of the food was (unsurprisingly) very good, but no country is fail-proof. Here is a glimpse into how our class of well-traveled and knowledgeable students critiques meals:

Meal #1: Paul Bocuse – Brasserie Le Nord, Lyon

“Paul Bocuse? The Paul Bocuse‽” When we heard that we would be dining at one of Paul Bocuse’s brasseries while on stage, the excitement exploded. After all, Paul Bocuse is one of the godfathers of French nouvelle cuisine, and is the namesake for the prestigious Bocuse d’Or prize, a cooking competition commonly referred to as the Olympics of the culinary world. Expectations were running quite high, as we wanted to see what the man hailed for changing the direction of French gastronomy could do in his restaurants.

Alas, Brasserie Le Nord left us feeling more than underwhelmed. Whether it was an off night, or Bocuse simply doesn’t spend enough time managing his less-prestigious properties, it was clear that little thought had gone into the composition and presentation of the dinner. We began with a classic French onion soup, thickly laden with cheese, sweet onions and bread. The rich soup was then followed by quenelle de brochet, a whipped fish, bread and egg mixture, poached in an oval shape and served with cream sauce. Other than a few spongy mushrooms, there was nary a sign of vegetables and nothing to balance the heavy cream. For dessert, there was (you guessed it) more cream, a slice of whipped cream and egg whites (?), studded with nuts and candied fruit. “It was all brown!” exclaimed one student. “This meal was made without love,” another person declared. Throughout the evening, our servers were mostly absent, did not interact with us and provided no explanations about what we were having that evening. We were left to guess and rely on our French-raised comrades to provide information. All in all, this meal exemplified the worst of French cuisine stereotypes; it was rich, heavy and the servers didn’t give us the time of day.
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