I have a secret: everything delicious comes from Dijon.
Ok, more broadly, everything delicious comes from Bourgogne, the French region of which Dijon is the capital. Think about it. Where would we be without mustard, Grand Crus, bœuf bourguignon, escargots de Bourgogne, coq au vin, crème de Cassis…I could go on for hours.
As part of the Jon-and-Anne-take-France tour of 2015, of which I hope there are many more in years to follow, we ventured out of the city into Dijon, only an hour and a half away heading southeast. He wanted to see the countryside, which was nearly impossible because the days are now approximately 45 minutes long, and I wanted to eat mustard — a lot of it. That did not disappoint. (A true sign of aging is being in Beaune, the wine capital of Burgundy and arguably home to the world’s best wines, and being more excited about a mustard factory. Oh, how times have changed.)
Dijon fed us well, really well. We had escargot and bœuf bourguignon and a molten chocolate cake because diets don’t start for a week. We drank lots of Burgundy wine, tasted a Grand Cru (~fancy~), and guzzled as many kirs as possible. You know, to respect its homeland (before taking as much cassis and wine back to Paris as we could).
Dijon itself is a charming town, with speakers playing Christmas music along the streets and houses that look like they are frozen in the time of the medieval times video game I played in the 90s (yeah yeah, nerdy I know). The roofs are covered in colorful tile in various patterns, and the market — designed by Gustave Eiffel — boasts regional cheeses (Comté isn’t far) and pain d’épices (gingerbread), which we scooped up mostly as a vessel for foie gras on Christmas. Miam.
Our trip was short but
sweet savory, and we must return when the days are longer and the wind less biting. Until then, I have a few pots of mustard and a bottle of cassis to get me through. ♦