Seafood extravaganza in Lyon, France

Yes, Lyon is land-locked (except for its two rivers), but while we were there we had a seafood dinner that almost rivaled our bouillabaisse experience in Marseille.

We went to Chez Moss, a restaurant specializing in fish and fruits de mer, shellfish.  Since there were four of us, we decided to start with the Plateau Moss, a boat-shaped platter filled with crushed ice and topped with two kinds of oysters, shrimp, mussels, and some very French specimens that I wasn’t familiar with: coques, amandes, bulots, and bigorneaux.

I discovered that:

• Coques are small clams
• Amandes are larger clams, also known as “dog cockles”, with an almond flavor
• Bulots are sea snails, with large, lovely spiral shells
• Bigorneaux are periwinkles, tiny black snails the size of a fingertip

I absolutely loved the briny and delicate cocques, and ate piles of them.  I noticed the texture of the amandes – crunchy, like abalone – more than the flavor; not my favorite.

The shrimp were one of the biggest surprises – shouldn’t they be just the usual kind of seafood we eat in the US?  Somehow, no.  They were firm and sweet and saline, a sort of shrimpy revelation.

And speaking of surprises, the mayonnaise served in a little dish with the seafood was absolutely delicious.  I’m not a fan of the gloopy white stuff that appears on my sandwiches, but this glossy, translucent, flavorful mayo was a distant relative at best.

The bulots and bigorneaux were the most interesting.  They have waxy little “doors” as thin as fish scales that need to be pried off before they can be eaten – this was especially challenging with the diminutive bigorneaux, so we were provided with little pin-like utensils to use.

Somehow, even though I’ve never had an issue eating escargot, these stymied me at first.  I guess it’s because escargot are cooked, whereas these most definitely were not.  And they’re a bit mucilaginous, to be honest.

But after working up my courage, I tackled first a bigorneau, and then a bulot. Surprisingly good, once I got past the texture.

For dessert, my aunt had an île flottante, which looked just as it should – huge billows of meringue with crème anglaise and a scattering of almonds.  I went for the baba au rhum. It arrived with a small glass of rum to pour over, soaking into the cake and mixing with the whipped cream to make an altogether indulgent jumble of flavors and textures.

I may never eat another bulot, truth be told, but I’m very glad I had at least one in France!