La Girole, Grenoble

La Girole, 15 Rue du Docteur Mazet, 38000 Grenoble

Dinner for two: 140 euros

Had Mr F not lived there as a child, it is likely I would never have thought to visit Grenoble. It is a long way away, more than six hours from London by train and an hour from Lyon by road. It is a small town, whose few well regarded restaurants are outshone by the gastronomic institutions just down the road in Lyon. However, all parts of France, even its most remote corners, have their own culinary highlights. Located on the edge of the Alps, Grenoble and its environs are bastions of mountain cooking, home of the gratin dauphinoise and an unusual dish of chicken and crayfish. Best of all, there are stunning mountain vistas and challenging walks to stir the appetite for all that cheese.

Having shown me round the old town and his old haunts, Mr F organised a moderately difficult hike to show off the Alpine countryside. Our challenge: to climb the Moucherotte, a small (by French standards) mountain on the outskirts of Grenoble. A climb punctuated with wonderful views and an improvised lunch of ham, cheese and bread was the perfect preparation for a serious French meal - a multi-course affair with a delightfully retro feel.

We chose La Girole, a small restaurant recommended by the Gault Millau. I was tempted to try the Auberge Napoleon, known for its most famous guest and (more recently) for its young female head chef. However, the slightly steep prices and critical reviews on French review sites led me to choose something else. 

With its exposed brickwork and charming staff, La Girole is both elegant and friendly, a combination of virtues that is often hard to achieve. Whilst it is clearly a place for hushed conversation and smart clothing, it is also warm and friendly, without any of the stuffiness of many top-end restaurants. The wine list is also worthy of note, particularly a bottle of 2006 Gigondas for the bargain price of 31 euros. 

We opted for the four course menu, with that virtuous sense gluttony exercise outdoors often inspires. Foie gras and autumn fruits was delicious but perhaps a little less innovative than the other dishes. The scallop with pumpkin was better: sweet squash and the richness of seafood worked well together. It reminded me of the sort of thing we dined out on in the nineties, with elegant mousses and swirls of sauce decorating the plate. 

I won on the fish course as well. Mr F's bass with apple and beans was an unusual combination, but my strange fish pancake dotted with clams and mussels was the stronger dish: the fish perfectly cooked and the pancake subtly flavoured of the sea. The meat course was perhaps a little less successful, my suckling pig could have done with some crispy skin and Mr F's beef could have been a little more tender. However, all the flavours worked well together, particularly the pickled mushrooms that added piquancy to the red wine sauce with Mr F's dish.

The cheese was an unadventurous selection (roquefort, époisses etc) but they were all delicious. Mr F's sablé with hazelnut ice cream was excellent, a beautiful combination of sweet, nutty and slightly salty flavours. They were a good end to a successful meal, which demonstrated a well-balanced combination of classic technique and innovation throughout. 

We enjoyed our meal in Grenoble. However, the weirdest thing happened to me whilst we were there. Even though the scallops, suckling pig and steak were excellent, they couldn't compare to the cheese sandwich scoffed in view of Mont Blanc. But what could?