L'Auberge du Moulin
Where Corinne and Martine Make Gordon Ramsay Irrelevant
In an era where "farm-to-table" usually means someone named Chad bought microgreens from a guy with a van, I found heaven in a French farmhouse run by Corinne and Martine, two women who've mastered the art of making Gordon Ramsay irrelevant. You know those cooking shows where chefs scream about perfection? This is what they're screaming about, except here it's achieved in perfect, peaceful silence.
Imagine your most talented grandmother, now double it, add a platane tree that's seen more seasons than most of us have had hot dinners, and red checkered tablecloths that make you want to renounce your entire life and move to the French countryside. This isn't cottagecore – it's the real deal, complete with a fountain that sounds like it's laughing at every overpriced urban restaurant you've ever visited.
Here's the thing: there's no menu. None. Zero. Nada. You eat what Corinne and Martine are cooking that day, which depends on what their garden decided to grow and what looked good at the market. It's like having your meal chosen by two French food whisperers. The main course? Often poultry, and always perfect. We're talking birds that had better lives than most Silicon Valley executives.
Our feast included with gougères that would make Escoffier rise from his grave – golden, airy cheese puffs that somehow manage to be both ethereally light and richly decadent. They arrived alongside a rosé that reminded me why people write poetry about fermented grape juice. Then came a terrine followed by a perfectly roasted bird served with apples that have clearly been studying the art of flavor absorption at a graduate level.
The showstopper? A soufflé creation floating in a sunset-colored sauce, decorated with delicate borage flowers, because apparently, even the garnishes here have a PhD in being fancy. It's the kind of dish that makes you question everything you thought you knew about cooking.
Let's talk about the setting, because holy countryside. In summer, you're dining under a canopy of grape vines, with flowers exploding from every balcony like nature's own fireworks show. In winter, you're watching snow fall through giant windows while being warmed by both the fireplace and the knowledge that you're eating better than 99% of the planet.
The food coma that followed was inevitable and glorious. If you're wondering about the proper post-lunch protocol here, it involves stumbling to your car, reclining the seat back like a seasoned pro, and letting the combination of countryside air and world-class cooking work its natural sedative magic (the spot is F*Yeah certified as well). Or, just trust me, those deckchairs in the garden aren't just for show – they're a necessary medical device after a meal of this caliber.
F*Yeah Certified 👍
P.S. Reserve ahead. Corinne and Martine don't play the last-minute game, and everything's fresh as morning dew. Also, wine is included, and their cellar has options that'll make you speak French fluently after two glasses.
Address: La Plaine, 05230 Montgardin, That France We 🖤
Hours: Lunchtime, closed on Mondays
Reservations required at least 24 hours in advance. +33 4 92 50 32 98 or auberge.dumoulin@orange.fr
Pro tip: Let go of any dietary restrictions or control issues at the door. This is their show, and trust me, you want front row seats.