Located across from the fronton (the traditional court for playing pelota, present in nearly every Basque town or village), this humble little restaurant has continued to over perform through visits spanning many years.  At lunch, there is a daily chef’s menu with 2 choices each for entree, plat and dessert, is a steal at 26 euros. On a recent visit, the starters were a delicious leeks vinaigrette, the vinaigrette more like an herby sauce gribiche with chunks of hard cooked eggs, and an escabèche of aubergines, thick slices of eggplant first fried, then left to come to room temperature in a slightly sweet combination of vinegar, olive oil and diced tomatoes, finished with a crumble of feta cheese. For plat, I had a lovely trout filet, perfectly cooked and served with braised lettuces and a rich shellfish broth, Sheila had paleron of beef, slow cooked, shredded and served liquor redolent of red wine,  with chickpeas and courgettes. For dessert, on offer was either local sheep’s milk cheese or a panna cotta scented with fig leaves, served with red cherries macerated with basque sour cherry liqueur.

Evenings, the ambiance is much more bar than resto, with a menu composed of raciones, or small plates.  We especially enjoyed a plate of green beans dressed with a tahini vinaigrette, a perfect tortilla espagnol and a very generous bocadillo stuffed with grilled chicken and caramelized onions. On Thursdays, the bar features pintxos, with your choice  from the bar display offered free with each glass purchased. This weekly special is a promotion arranged by the city of Ciboure and is available in most of the nearby bars.  Ambiance assurée!

For wine, Maitenia features an impressive list, especially deep in  Basque wines from both sides of the Pyrenees and leaning heavily toward organic, natural or  biodynamic.  This is no surprise, as the same team owns an excellent cave a vin across from the Halles of St-Jean-de-Luz called Canon.

Maitenia
Address:  8 Pl. du Fronton, 64500 Ciboure
Tel:  (011 33) 05 24 33 45 68
Reservations: advised, especially for lunch in the summer.  Not available for evenings.

The asparagus is simply blanched and shocked in cold water to keep its crunch and brilliant green color.  The goat cheese, coated with ash and aged for 3 weeks, is from les Chèvres de Brassenx, a tiny producer in the hills just outside Orthez. For the vinaigrette, I chose a simple mix of shallots, red wine vinegar and olive oil. The final garnish of chive blossoms and chopped parsley.  Open a full bodied bottle of white wine, add a crispy baguette and enjoy!

Preserved grape leaves are a standard ingredient in many Mediterranean cuisines.  Greek dolmathes, those tasty little bundles of rice, herbs and spices wrapped in grape leaves, are perhaps the recipe best known to Americans.  But they are also great for wrapping meat and fish for grilling or for wrapping goat cheeses during aging. A warm, wet spring here has meant that our grapes have gone crazy, sending out tons of  vines and leaves that needed to be trimmed back to favor the development of grapes.  Fortunately, preserving grape leaves is quick and easy.  I easily fit 80 leaves in one liter jar, which should be plenty for this summer’s cooking.
By the way, I always assumed that the lemony flavor of dolmathes came from lemon juice added to the filling. But while working this recipe, I tried one of the fresh grape leaves and found it to have a distinctly lemony flavor all its own.  I cant wait to wrap up a nice piece of merlu or cod for the barbecue this summer!

Ah, spring! That most ephemeral and fleeting of seasons. Especially with the changing climate, it can often seem like we pass from winter directly to summer. All the more reason to scoop up spring veggies while they last.  Nettles, peas, asparagus, radishes, favas, strawberries!  Eat them in season, then say goodby until next year.

According to Wikipedia, vermouth is defined as “an Italian aromatized, fortified wine, flavored with various botanicals (roots, barks, flowers, seeds, herbs, and spices) and sometimes colored, produced mainly in Italy, France and Spain. The modern versions of the beverage were first produced in the mid- to late 18th century in Turin, Italy”. Fair enough.

I have been a fan of sweet vermouth as an aperitif for as long as I can remember.  Even before I saw Bill Murray order this apéro in “Groundhog Day”, I had somewhere  along the line picked up an appreciation of the the sweet/bitter combination that vermouth provides, as well as what seemed to me to be the sophistication of this unusual drink.  Ordering a sweet vermouth, on the rocks with a twist of orange, somehow seemed to me very inside baseball, something you had to know what you were doing to pull off. Plus I just love the taste. My first experience with vermouth was, of course, Martini Rossi, the world’s most popular brand of vermouth.  But during recent travels, I have learned that vermouth culture is alive and well, and there is even a growing artisan vermouth culture in France, Spain and Italy.  I have tried a number of different vermouths lately and was pleasantly surprised by the wide variation in flavor profiles and weights.  Vermouths can vary from spicy to herbaceous to flavors of citrus, with a entire palette of flavors in between. They are  more or less sweet, more or less bitter, some benefit from a splash of soda water, some are perfect on their own.

Italy is  undoubtedly the point of origin of vermouth, and specifically the northern town of Torino.  Torino is the home of above mentioned Martini, as well as smaller producers like Punt e Mes, Carpano Antica Formula and many more. The elegant piazzas of Torino, lined with cafes with there white jacketed servers, seem especially appropriate for vermouth. Of the vermouths I tried in Torino, my favorite was del Professore, at once bursting with the flavor of herbs and bitter with citrus, light enough to drink straight but mouthfilling and round. Cin Cin!

We enjoyed apéros on the Piazza del Gesu Nuovo in Napoli, where the tradition of bars serving snacks with your drinks is still very much alive. The vermouth here is Martini Rosso, which I think is a pretty acceptable starting point for learning about vermouth. Competently made, with notes of herbs and spices, neither too heavy nor too sweet. And yes, that is a Campari Spritz in the other glass, completely unavoidable in Italy and most of western Europe these days.

We were in Spain last year, in the area around Segovia, where we discovered a well developed vermouth culture. In addition to the Italian classics, I enjoyed a local artisan vermouth called Dindimut. Much lighter that Italian counterparts with a flavor profile more toward citrus fruits than herbs, with a lively bitterness almost reminiscent of Campari, I found it to be uniquely refreshing in hot weather.

Vermouth culture exists also in France, with some very good French-made vermouths, although, these days, it seems to me that vermouth is used more as a mixer than an actual apéro on its own. Still, if you order a “Martini Rouge” pretty much anywhere in France, the waiter is pretty sure to know what you want. I think that Vermouth Dolin, made in Chambéry, France since 1821, is quite good.  I use their dry white vermouth in cooking – my late father-in-law swore by a marinade of white vermouth, black pepper and garlic for grilling a steak, and he grilled a mighty fine steak! Dolin also makes sweet vermouths in red, white and rosé versions that stand on their own as apéros. Note that the Dolin web site says that the origins of

of vermouth lie in the Alps, where the the wild herbs that give it it’s particular character grow.  A nice image to contemplate as you savor a glass of vermouth!

                                                                     Abri Soba, Paris 10eme

I recently received this question from a reader named Brian:

“Our son and his girlfriend will be in Paris for 3 nights this spring. They both enjoy great, shareable meals at memorable restaurants with good cocktails, and breakfast places with great coffee. Any recommendations for a couple in their 20’s?”

First off, thanks for this question and for following my blog, Brian.  Glad to hear that you still enjoy Le Pichet. If anyone else has questions I can answer, please feel free to leave them as a comment on one of my posts, I will get back to you as soon as practical.

What in the world do people in their 20’s want these days?  That is a question that strays into thoughts about mortality and aging in this world.  Deep sigh…  Food, cooking and dining are all so wrapped up in trend and fashion that recommending a restaurant to a 20 year old is sort of like talking about music that I loved in my youth to a nephew or niece.  They just give you a slightly sad look. I eat out in Paris as often I can and try to keep up on restaurant news and reviews. But, at the risk of sounding old, many of the rave reviews I have read recently concern restaurants that I find completely unappealing.  Such is life.
At the same time, making restaurant recommendations is always tricky, as what a person enjoys in a dining experience is so, well, personal.  Everyone has different expectations.  However, since you asked, I will do my best to hazard a few suggestions.

Source:  A good place to start would be the French TV show called “Très Très Bon”, which is all about what’s new in the Paris culinary scene.  It features not only restaurants but street food, coffee roasters, micro breweries and distilleries, wine bars, cocktail bars, caves, boulangeries and patisseries, pretty much anything that involves eating and drinking. The attitude leans decidedly young but even I find  many of  the places featured interesting. We watch on a channel called Paris Premier but it has a very good website, with a food map, clips from the show and even an app.

Arrondissement:  In recent visits to Paris, I have really enjoyed spending time in the 10th arrondissement, which has an energy that reminds me of Belleville 20 years ago. Formerly avoided as that kinda ugly area that surrounds most train stations (the 10th is home to both the Gare de Nord and the Gare de l’est), the 10th is now loaded with bars, cafes, restaurants, organic stores, wine bars, coffee roasters, street food places, it even is home to le Passage Brady, a kind of mini Indian district.  It still feels a bit scruffy, which helps to keep out the chain stores that are the surest sign of gentrification.

Abri Soba:  One of the restaurants we really enjoyed in the 10th, this tiny place is run by a chef who’s first restaurant had one Michelin star. He closed that place to focus on more traditional Japanese food, notably handmade soba noodles.  But there is also an interesting selection of izikaya-style dishes and sashimi.  No reservations, arrive 10 minutes before opening or figure at least a 30 minute wait.

Try a bouillon: I think that it is fair to say that one of the most recognizable trends in Paris dining in the last 5 years is the revival of the Bouillon,  working class restaurants, many of which date fromthe early 1900s, and are sort of a cross between a brasserie and a cafeteria.  The combo of well prepared traditional food served without fuss and prices that are borderline philanthropic, have been rediscovered by euro-conscious Parisians who still want to dine well. Think œufs mayo, leeks vinaigrette, veal blanquette, gratin of macaroni…almost like eating in a  museum of French culinary arts! My favorite bouillon is Bouillon Racines, but to be fair, it is significantly more expensive than the classics of the genre like Bouillon Chartier or newcomers like Bouillon Pigalle. Warning, many traditional bouillons dont take reservations, and, once you make it to the front of the queue, you are often sat at a table with other guests. But then, that is part of the fun.

Classy cocktails: I am not a cocktail person, so I dont have a favorite cocktail bar in Paris. However, almost every high end restaurant in Paris (and many that are less high end)  now  has a fairly well developed cocktail program. And since formal dining is an essential part of the Paris culinary experience, why not blow the budget  at least once?  One of my favorite splurges is Restaurant Prunier.  The room is an art deco dream classified historical landmark, the chef is one of the icons of modern French culinary arts, the food is impeccably prepared and seafood focused and, as high end Paris dining goes, it is not insanely expensive.  Get dressed up and dine like an aristo!

Coffee and breakfast:  Coffee is not one of the things that the French do extremely well. In fact, most of the French people I know will say that there is better coffee in Italy than in France. I had the best coffee I have ever tasted in Vienna.  That having been said, boutique coffee roasters are an up and coming thing is Paris.  Check out “Tres Tres Bon” above for recommendations. As to a breakfast with good coffee, I can recommend  l’Atelier des Sœurs on the lovely little place Franz Lizst in the 10th.  Or, try L’Endoit in the Batignolles neighborhood in the 17th. I love their soft boiled eggs with toast soldiers. However, I am not sure that I would make a trip to try either of these places, as there are likely good options close to where you are staying. Ask someone at your hotel what their favorite place is for breakfast. Or, if not in a hotel, ask the bartender at a bar near where you are staying. A good friend says that bartenders and hairdressers always know the best places.

All that is to say, we had a cold snap that hit a lot of the plants in our yard pretty hard.  Our calla lilies, for example, which had stayed green into early winter, pretty much lay down and gave up the ghost.  Weeds, it seems, are made of sterner stuff.  As I discovered when, after the freeze, I began to notice young dandelion and wild watercress leaves all over the yard.  Great news for tasty salads and for winter vitamins.

One of the attractions of these bitter greens is that they add a lively punch of flavor to otherwise pretty tame hothouse-grown winter lettuces. That having been said, their bitterness  demands to be taken into account when planning your salad. Two options: # 1 pair them with slightly sweet elements (don’t overdo it!) like winter pears, apples or pomegranate seeds to offset the bitterness, or add a bit of sweetness to your vinaigrette with a spoonful of honey or reduced apple cider. Or #2 pair with strong flavors that stand up to the bitterness, like bleu cheese, bacon or citrus.

Note also that most winter greens, including endives, watercress and dandelion greens, are a bit toothier than other lettuces, so will stand up to a warm element without wilting.  For example, toss dandelion greens with warm lentils or a warm bacon vinaigrette. Yum!

Our Holidays here in Orthez are generally pretty quiet;  we usually avoid the crazy holiday travel rush by staying home and most all of our new friends here in France are off celebrating with their families.  But then, quiet Holidays is a tradition with us since the days when I worked in restaurants and Sheila worked in retail fashion.  December was always one of the busiest periods of the years for us both, and any time off is spent just plain relaxing, so elaborate Holiday fetes were never really in the offing.

That being said, one can still put together something delicious and festive.  This year, I kept it easy.  On New Year’s Eve, we took the train to Biarritz to enjoy the festive ambiance of the quarter around its old covered Halles.  Tons of people shopping or craning their necks to check out the lovely things to eat and cook, or enjoying a pinxto and a glass of wine in one of the markets many stalls. Among the fish stalls, the vendors set up tables so that clients can enjoy freshly shucked oysters from Arcachon and a glass of bracing white Cotes-de-Gascogne wine. Outside the Halles, restaurants and bars set up stalls serving all sorts of good things to eat and drink, and bandas (a sort of ambulatory brass and drum band playing tradition music) circulate through the streets, playing for tips and drinks. We made sure to get back on the train for home before the nighttime craziness started…leave that for the young!

Our favorite stall in the Halles to Biarritz is  Maison Chailla, which offers everything from wonderfully aged cheeses, to charcuterie from the Basque countries, to more luxurious items like caviar from the rivers of Aquitaine. Here, we purchased smoked trout from the famous river-fed farms at Banka in the high Pyrenees above Irouleguy. Its a true délice, more delicate than smoked salmon but just as rich and intense.

For my money, the best way to serve smoked trout is the most simple:  with toasted bread, and sides of creme fraîche, capers and chopped green onions.  Open a bottle of champagne and go at it (yes, that is Billecart Salmon rosé you see in the picture…Réveillon only comes once each year).

After smoked trout, we had my foie gras terrine “mi-cuit”, which is whole fattened duck liver, marinated overnight with a splash of port and spices, cooked to very low internal temperature, then pressed overnight again in the fridge.  The low cooking temperature means that less of the fat is cooked out and therefore the liver maintains its silken texture.  The success of this type of terrine is almost wholly dependent on the quality of the foie gras, so I took no chances and ordered weeks in advance from Maison Paris, a small scale producer located in the town of Pomerez in Les Landes, the heart of the southwest’s foie gras region and about 15 minutes north of Orthez. Foie gras has been hard to come by (and expensive when found) the last few years, due to the bird flu epidemic that swept the region and seriously damaged both artisan and larger farms. The good news is that near universal vaccination of ducks has meant more foie gras and of better quality, and less pricey!  Add toasted brioche and maybe a spoonful of fig jam and the terrine is ready. We enjoyed it with a bottle of Jurançon from Domaine Castera.

Here in France, I was late recieving news of Armandino Batali’s passing on November 28, 2025. It was not until a Seattle friend sent me Le Pichet’s Instagram post about it that I had the news. A very sad day and I am so glad that Michael and  Marcel took the time to point out his importance to Seattle and what a kind, gentle man he was.
I first met Armandino when I was the chef at Campagne, where he and his wife would come to dine. He was always very kind and encouraging to me, which made a big difference to someone in his first chef position. When Salumi opened, Sheila and I would often snag one of the 2-3 tables and sit for several hours trying whatever Armandino and his crew were cooking that day. Often, at the end of the meal, Armandino and his sidekick, Bill Gould, would pull up a chair and a glass, just to talk about food and eating and life. He was such a sweet man and always interested in young talent and ideas. Later, lunches at Salumi became a sort of  restaurant staff rendez-vous, with friends like Matt Dillon, Daisley Gordon of Campagne, and David Butler of Le Caviste joining in.
Armandino and I formed a bit of a bond, as it turned out that we had a lot in common. We were both former Boeing engineers who had given it up for the kitchen.  We both had lived in Federal Way, in fact his sons played for the same Boys Club soccer team as I had. Anyway, he eventually made me an offer: if I would teach him how to make French pâtés, he would teach me about Italian sausages. Of course I agreed, and we worked together for 5-6 days during the time between when I left Campagne and when I opened Le Pichet.  It was a treat to spend time learning from him but also just to hear him talk about his experiences. We made my recipes for country pâté and chicken liver terrine, and I got to see his whole process for cured and fresh sausages. I think I even spent a day making gnocchi with the woman who made them every Friday (his sister?).  I never had the chance to apply at Le Pichet most of what I learned, as we never had the space for a curing facility. But our version of Saucisson Lyonnais is a direct descendant from his recipe for Salumi Cotto. Still, I felt very lucky to have had the experience. I think his biggest impact on me was to witness his genius for making guests feel welcome, to give the impression that one was dining around the kitchen table in his home (the fact that he would often open a 1.5 l bottle of inexpensive Montepulciano only increased the impression!).
I last saw Armandino shortly before we left Seattle to live in France, when I was a volunteer in the St James Cathedral Garden on Madison street Armandino was working as a sort of part-time guiding light for the cathedral soup kitchen, and he would stop to talk for a few minutes when I would bring a basket of fresh veggies from the garden. Even though he seemed a bit frail, he was still doing what he loved, giving of himself by cooking with love.

One of the joys of living in France is that you are never more than a train ride away from Paris. From our TGV station in Orthez, you can leave in the morning and be in Paris in time for a lunch reservation. A few weeks ago, we took advantage of the great French train system (and our Cartes Senior Advantage, which give fat discounts for voyagers over 60…not everything about getting old sucks!) to spend a couple nights in Paris with the goal of seeing a couple interesting museum exhibitions and, of course, dining.

Before lunch one day, we stopped for an apéro at Bistrot Vivienne in the Galerie Vivienne, one of the storied passages that dot central Paris. The fantastic Belle Époque ambiance is included with he cost of the drinks, as are the olives. This galerie is also home to one my favorite Paris bookshops, Librairie Jousseaume, which has been in this location since 1826. Jousseaume specializes in rare and antique books, so I rarely find anything in my price range. But the shop is such a voyage back in time that I like to brows and maybe take home a few old postcards or a bookmark.