Cuisine bourgignonne

Beaune, March 12, 2012—

THE PLACE TO EAT, we were told, was Ma Cuisine, written up in the New York Times, open only four days a week, and requiring a reservation. And we'd got into town late, through a terrific traffic jam, and hardly anything else was open. Well, our hotel restaurant, of course, and it would do in a pinch, but the menu looked a little formulaic, and almost certainly sous-vide, vacuum-packed. So we walked around to Ma Cuisine.

Didn't look promising: the joint was packed. Fourteen Americans were sitting in the middle of the place, each with a half-dozen glasses at his elbow, and every other table was full too. The woman in charge rushed over to us: vous avez réservée? Well, no, we hadn't. Désolée, nous sommes complet…

Absolutely absolutely full? I asked. Absolutely absolutely absolutely? Ah oui, je regret…

So we turned to leave, and at that moment one of the fourteen came charging up to us: Who else would I expect to run into, what a surprise, how nice to see you… it was our friend Bruce N., there with a group of wine customers from all over the US. We said hello and shook hands and explained how we happened to be there and turned once again to leave, and Madame came back to us and said she couldn't possibly have a table before nine-fifteen, and I said Are you absolutely sure you can seat us then, Oh yes, but not before then, Fine, I said, we'll be here.

An hour and a half later, nine-twenty, the place was still jammed, but there was an empty table for us on the mezzanine, where two other parties of four were working their way through bottles and carafes. The menu was on a blackboard: we split a fine mixed lettuce salad which we dressed ourselves at the table with delicious Provençal oil and salt, eschewing vinegar out of respect for the wines I'd requested.

Lindsey went on to a broiled half chicken, from Bresse of couse; I had duck breast, mulet from the Landes, of couse, perfectly roasted, judiciously salted, and lightly robed with a reduction. This was bistro cooking at its finest.

Bruce brought us a glass of Yquem '85 and introduced us to a friend sktting at the adjacent table. This was overheard by a woman at the other table, who subsequently introduced herself: a Baltimore restaurateur touring France with her partner, chef, and pastry chef; and when they finally got to their desserts, more glasses of Sauternes appeared at our table as well.

We declined dessert, though, taking only a little cheese: a nice nutty Comté, a perfect Brillat-Savarin, an absolutely delicious Epoisses,and two others whose names, announced in a thickish Burgundy accent, escaped me.

St. Véran '09, Château de Beauregard, and Fixin '08, "En Combe Rey," Domaine Alain Jeanne, in half bottles; Château d'Yquem '85; Château de Fargues '89

•Ma Cuisine, Passage Sainte-Hélène, Beaune; 03 80 22 30 22