pink grapefuit sorbet, panna cotta, peaches

During my trip to the Côte d’Azur with Matt and Adam, after the second or third day, we realized that we hadn’t eaten in any restaurants. With the fresh ingredients available, we were preparing our own meals (pretty well, I might add), and we didn’t feel the need to hand over the cooking duties to a third-party. It was a bit of heaven being in part of the country where garden-fresh vegetables are abundant, and we found ourselves gorging on local specialties that we made ourselves, like aïoli and socca, and not craving any meat or cheese.

But one restaurant did catch my eye, which many consider the best restaurant on the Côte d’Azur, and that’s Mirazur, located in Menton, a small town that meets the radiantly blue Mediterranean and is literally walking distance to Italy. When I wrote to Rosa Jackson, who teaches regional cooking classes in nearby Nice, about the restaurant, she wrote me right back; “… if you go, you should arrange in advance to visit their vegetable garden, it’s amazing!”

prickly pears tomato jelly, saffron, herbs

Since I love gardens, and seeing where food is grown, I contacted the restaurant to see if we could go through the gardens before lunch, and soon thereafter, got a response letting me know that we were welcome to take a walk through the potager, the French word for ‘vegetable garden’, before lunch. So we arrived a few hours before our reservation with sturdy shoes and jeans, with a change of clothing, so we could be respectable when we finally pulled up to our table in the casually chic dining room of Mirazur.

Mirazur garden

Walking up the steep hill where the gardens are stacked, I stopped for a moment to look behind me and my breath was taken a bit away by the expansive view of the Mediterranean we were facing. The deep-blue water was lulling away, a few small boats leisurely drifted by, and a lone swimmer courageously was working his or her way through the docile currents. Then halfway up the hill we met up with Magali, who helps run the organic garden for the restaurant.


For those who think organic is high-fallutin’ or for upscale folks, this multi-level garden was a tangle of weeds, dried up branches, and plenty of broken rocks and dirt. It’s not a garden to look at, but one that actually works. And every section features a different kind of fruit or vegetable bursting through the sandy soil.

Swiss chard japapeño

Because it was early September, it was somewhat late for stone fruits and the famous Menton lemons (which merit their own annual parade) wouldn’t be ripe until at least January. But there were many colorful stalks of blettes, or Swiss chard, poking from the ground. Nearby were rows of peppers and when I asked what that lone bright red pepper was, she replied, “It’s a jalapeño!”

I’ve not seen a jalapeño pepper in France before, which is why I devote one-sixth of my refrigerator to a big jar of homemade pickled ones. Magali told us they grew them because the French don’t like heat, and jalapeños are relatively mild. Although she personally confessed, “Me? I love heat!”, perhaps because she is from Marseilles.

devil's claw

The most unusual thing we saw was Devil’s Claw, which she said was related to the fig plant, but also added that it was carnivorous. (So I stood back.) They don’t grow them to use in the restaurant, but perhaps they’re used to scare away the locals.

For example—Exhibit A:

There are over forty kinds of tomatoes grown in the garden, but her favorite was the Cœur de Bœ, which are also grown in greenhouses in France and Belgium, and she made a face (the same one I do) when she thinks of them, as they taste like nothing. A real Cœur de Bœ resembles its namesake ‘beef heart’, and has the wonderfully meaty, juicy, summery taste of a home-grown tomato.

tomato weird vegetable

There were a few oddities in the garden (and no, I’m not talking about me, or Matt, or Adam). The spiky little creatures she handed us were filled with square black seeds. But what shocked us more than those wacky semis were the cyclanthera, a pellet-like cucumber originating in Central and South America where Mauro Colagreco, the chef at the restaurant, is from.

tiny cucumber

When we popped the little green capsules into our mouths, we were each astonished by the explosion of cucumber flavor in that tiny pellet. She said, “Yes, they are amazing”, and told us of a cook in the restaurant that did les petits farcis, the stuffed vegetables that are a specialty of the region.

carrot seeds

As I walked around the brush and tangle of plants, I had to watch where you were going so you didn’t step on any semis, or newly-seeded areas. But it was hard with such a spectacular view!

Mirazur garden

We finally wound our way back down the steep hill, toward the restaurant, stopping at a basil patch filled not just with colorful varieties of basil, but a whole range of flavors as well. Liquorice was the most surprising, but the cinnamon basil we all agreed was our hands-down favorite.

touring the garden 3 avocados

Other interesting herbs were tiny, clover-like sprigs of oiselle (sorrel), short leaves of cress that had a fiery bite, and wispy roquette that was chewy, deep-green, and had an aftertaste that knocked away any remaining flavor of the previous bite of peppery cress.

cosmic carrots sorrel

At the top of the hill, set against the background of the blue Mediterranean, was the colorful foliage of amaranth. She said that out of all the plants, she was relieved that amaranth was the only one that was resistant to genetic modification.


And although I was only familiar with using the pretty leaves in salads and Asian dishes, she plucked off a few of the sprigs, rubbed them briskly between her hands, which released a scattering of pin-prick sized black seeds.

amaranth seeds

I tasted a few, which were crunchy and a bit nutty, similar to poppy seeds, but with a slightly more elusive flavor. And she said that Mauro, the chef, likes to use them in dishes because he is interested in the “…element of surprise”, which she followed up by saying, “…because you never know what Mauro is going to make.”

Although we didn’t want to leave the lovely garden, with this spectacular view, we had a reservation for lunch and carefully navigated the crumbly concrete steps back to the car, where we made our quick change into presentable diners.

Menton, garden view

True to form, there isn’t a menu at Mirazur. At lunchtime, there’s three options: two of the menus are smaller, available during specific days of the week and cost €29-€33, and there are two more expansive menus, including the carte blanche for €110 which was ten different dishes. Since we hadn’t blown our dining-out budget, we decided on the splurge and after asking us if we had any allergies to anything, since the menu is indeed a ‘blank slate’, we sat back and let the server bring out plate of plate of dishes inspired by the potager we’d just descended from.

Champagne cocktail with lemon verbena vegetable tartare in black rice cracker

The apéritif maison was a flûte of Champagne ganished and infused with lemon verbena leaves with a cube of unrefined sugar sizzling in the bottom of each glass. I generally skip the apéro in upscale restaurants mostly because I prefer Champagne unadulterated (and because a round of them can increase the check substantially), and while this one was fine, I’ll stick to popping open a fresh bottle rather than the nearly €50 these three set us back.

The lovely little accompaniment that arrived a moment later was a glass of sea foam which had a tangy-creamy consistency and flavor, but the waiter assured us there was pas de crème in the little glass. What was even nicer was the vegetable tartare of finely diced carrots in a airy, brittle shell made of black rice flour which came out just afterward.

fish with white peaches

A fish course came next; very thinly sliced with a few arcs of white peaches. The fish was strong, fresh, and oily, similar to mackerel, and although if someone told me they were pairing fruit with fish, I might have scoff. But the contrast between the sweet and salty paid off.

tomato jelly, saffron, herbs, roquette Mirazur bean salad

A martini glass was partially filled with tomato jelly served up with tiny little leaves from the garden topped with a slick of saffron liquid, most likely from the Provençal saffron cultivated nearby, and various petals and miniature herb leaves.

A bean salad landed with squarish leaves of sorrel strewn about with a few chunks of fresh apricots tossed in. Since we all love beans, we were all very happy to be eating this dish. In fact, if they just brought me a big plate of this for lunch (although not for €110), I would’ve been happy.

bean salad Mirazur Bread

I was in love with the look of the house-made bread, which I noticed behind the glass window behind the host’s desk, when we first stepped in to the restaurant, where you can see the kitchen at work. The petal-like breads were pull apart loaves with the soft consistency of stretchy, all-American biscuits, but infused with ginger and a soupçon of hardly perceptible garlic. A puddle of local olive oil was poured for dipping in a low dish alongside.

cod & sea lettuce

Being a few hundred meters from the Mediterranean, I liked how Chef Colagreco, naturally, used a lot of things from the sea (because I’ve been surprised before, like when people say they serve “local, seasonal food”…then they have blackberries on the dessert menu in New York, in December), such as the transluscent green sea lettuce in this cod ceviche, along with the finest little cubes of chile peppers I’d ever seen. Almost as small as the amaranth seeds, each one had four perfect ninety degree angles and I could imagine someone in the kitchen standing there for quite a while with a miniature protractor to get them all just right.

squash, miso broth, parmesan, shiso

We enjoyed our meal, but some of the flavors weren’t as lively as I like. I think back to Alec Lobrano, a local food writer and friend who has lived in Paris for nearly twenty five years, and says that Americans are used to “fireworks” when we eat. And the longer I live in France, the more I agree: flavors here are not so all over the map—you don’t get highs and lows in each mouthful, and things like flaky salt, hot chiles, spices, fresh ginger, and untamed citrus are generally used with more restraint than I’m used to.

It’s not a complaint, but a cultural difference. So whenever I eat something, I often want it to “pop” in my mouth, and in my brain. And if it doesn’t, I don’t always feel satisfied. Part of it also comes from maybe working in professional kitchens for thirty five years and tasting a lot of food, hence the preference for dynamic dishes that make an impression. So I’m always looking for things with bold, big flavors.

Mirazur view

But then I speared a roasted wild mushroom that was snug up against a mound of quinoa, and popped it in my mouth, and it was the most delicious mushroom I’ve ever tasted. So there.

mushroom, quinoa, sea foam

Atop was a soft strip of lardo (cured pork fat) and two kinds of foam alongside. Foam has gotten a bad rap in the past few years, but I don’t eat in fancy restaurants enough to get sick of it, so I can’t comment. But like anything, even if it’s a cliché (like panna cotta, verrines, tiramisù, and crème brûlée), if done or used correctly, detractors can quit their bitching because that’s what it was intended for. And here the frothy sauces were light and airy, and didn’t detract from the earthy flavor of the mushrooms and seeds, like a reduction or heavier sauce would have.

spoons swirl bread

After spending the week eating our way through Provence and across the Côte d’Azur, Adam mentioned that he was missing meat. I hadn’t really thought about it since the vegetables and local flavors are so satisfying (including the grande aioli we’d made the night before, with lots of fresh and parcooked vegetables). But it was true; I didn’t miss meat at all.

That is, until we finished off the plate of carrots, carrot puree, fennel, and swordfish, and they set down before us a neat rectangle of pork shoulder, with its skin all slick and crispy.

swordfish, carrot, squash pork

Surrounding the pork were dabs of a relatively tame garlic cream, slivered olives, and thin French-cut pieces of green onion. I remember explaining to Romain that in America, we call things cut on the bias “French cut” and he just looked at me like…well, let’s just say I get that look a lot. Any guesses out there on that one? (Or what it just an affectation by the frozen food industry to get us to eat their frozen green beans?)

pork, olives, green onion, garlic cream, potatoes,

After our empty pork plates were taken away, we began the dessert courses, staring with a thin cylinder of caramelized tuile batter filled with, yup…you guessed it, cilantro cream. Propping it up was a oval of creamy yogurt ice cream in a pool of quivery pear jelly and little bitty cubes of pears. (They probably gave the person who cubed the chiles earlier a break and let them work on something a little more manageable.) I loved the pear jelly and the tasty bits of pears tumbling over it, and surprisingly, the cilantro cream was a brilliant idea. It wasn’t savonneuse or too-savory, but instead was just leafy enough to give the cream a curiously herbal twist. I liked it.

cilantro cream, yogurt ice cream, pear jelly

Next up was another oval, a frosty quenelle of pink grapefruit sorbet with slivers and slices of peaches and nectarines strewn about. The sorbet was excellent, but stone fruit season was a few weeks behind us and the fruit was a bit to firm and no longer juicy, as stone fruits tends to be when the season is just about over. A few bites and it just make you realize that it’s time to say goodbye to them until next year and that it’s apples and pears you should be focusing on and using.

pink grapefruit sorbet with stone fruits lemon macaron, marshmallow, tuiles

After coffee, they extended our four hour lunch for a few extra (long) minutes, and we were ready to go. But we’d seen the other, long-departed tables, enjoying their mignardises, and we wanted ours, too.

At long last, ours came out with bright lemon macarons, tender marshmallows, and gracefully curved tuiles, which were soft and flexible and didn’t snap to attention when you broke them. Which made me think they’d been taken out of their air-tight containers and plated up, but overlooked by the busy staff. In the humid air of the Côte d’Azur, you really need to pay extra attention to these details, and it was curious that this final one got overlooked.

Our day ended with a ride back through the winding hills toward Nice, once again making a few wrong turns along the way. It’s easy to see why Mirazur was recommended to me by various friends in the region. And although one remarked that the prices were getting up there, our meal with one bottle of a Corsican white wine (€65) and everything else, worked out to €150 per person (which includes tax and service).

For a lavish meal like this, enjoyed with an expansive view of the Mediterranean, we agreed it was a fine way to spend a sunny afternoon and eat Michelin-starred cuisine. For those not wanting a ten-course repast, shorter menus are available. Which I might try next time and would give us a while to relax on the beach. Or make up for the time getting lost, en route home.

30, avenue Aristide Briand
Tél: 04 92 41 86 86
Menton, France


There’s an international organization called Wwoof, which matches people who want to work on organic farms in France (and elsewhere) with folks from all over the world, who want to come and work on an organic farm. I’ve visited a few here in France and it looks like an interesting opportunity for those willing to trade a few hours of physical labor for the experience.

At the small farm that raises the produce for Mirazur, I met several of the young workers, or Wwoofers as they’re called, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, ripping up plants and seeding the ground for the next crop. Each farm is different, and there’s a list on their website to choose from, but anyone is welcome to participate in the program where meals and lodging are provided in exchange for work. You can find more information on their bilingual website: Wwoof France

Related Posts and Links

Doing an Internship in France

Nice and the Côte d’Azur

The Chef and His Secret Garden (Chez Pim)

Les Tomates

A Taste of the Earth at Mirazur (Time)

Les Crayères

Great Dining Deals in Paris

Mirazur Restaurant (An American in London)


French Tomato Tart Recipe

(Photo of me with my devil’s claws moustache by Matt Armendariz)

Never miss a post!


  • September 10, 2010 3:25pm

    Oh, wow. That all truly looks so summery (spring-y?) and gorgeous. Makes me delighted to think that it’ll be summer here in Australia soon and I can indulge in some fresh fruit and veg, albeit not so prettily plated!

  • September 10, 2010 3:54pm

    Sounds like a beautiful afternoon! I love the idea of the cilantro cream, makes me want to experiment with a cilantro ice cream….
    Looks like a really nice garden too! Funny that you mention Woofers, as I was visiting a friend’s goat farm yesterday here in Canada and they have Woofers from all over the world working with them all the time. There were two there yesterday, one from Germany and one from Ontario. Sounds like a really cool program!

  • September 10, 2010 4:18pm

    What do you mean: “I prefer Champagne unadulterated”?? When you came over for dinner, you practically BEGGED me to plop a sour cherry into your glass of Prosecco.

    But in all seriousness, these pictures are beautiful. I want to go to there.

  • Suzy (foodie in Berlin)
    September 10, 2010 4:32pm

    I really enjoy your post, somehow you manage to make a blow by blow recount of a meal wholly absorbing and I always learn something! Which my inner nerd really enjoys. Today I learned that those after dessert desserts have another name besides petite fours and that woofing thing sounds very interesting!

  • Susan
    September 10, 2010 4:40pm

    The entire afternoon there sounds heavenly to me. What a view from that garden! I must have some of the French sensibility about flavor in many summery preparations. I like to taste the flavors of the ingredients in a more delicately contrived state letting each ingredient enhance the other without necessarily using a fat, sauce or seasoning to do bring it together. I guess it’s a summer thing!

  • September 10, 2010 4:40pm

    Great photos, looks like a wonderful place. (And love the mustache!)

  • September 10, 2010 4:57pm

    it had to be a great time!

    have a nice time!

  • September 10, 2010 5:18pm

    Mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu – I don’t know if I’m more jealous about the divine 10-course meal or the romp through the garden. Magnifique!

  • Lynn in Tucson
    September 10, 2010 5:18pm

    “It wasn’t savonneuse…”

    J’espere que non!

  • Patsy
    September 10, 2010 6:18pm

    David, where did the swirl bread come from?

  • September 10, 2010 6:28pm
    David Lebovitz

    Patsy: They make all the breads, including the swirl bread, in the restaurant–except one, which is a rustic hearth bread.

    Adam: Champagne ain’t prosecco. (Which I like, too. Although sans the cherries, please!) If we go to Mirazur, I’ll teach you about the real thing..

    Kristin: I’ve actually thought about doing it myself. I was talking to some of them once, though, and they said that some farms (and farmers) were better than others. Still, it’s a great idea and an interesting program.

  • September 10, 2010 6:30pm

    Ce pain est magnifique.

  • September 10, 2010 7:57pm

    I’m almost at a loss for words after reading this. When I die and go to heaven, will it be the Côte d’Azur?

    Bravo on the photographs!


  • September 11, 2010 12:32am

    Menton is my usually place to stay while holidaying in Provence (however every year I think we should try something different finally) and I have to admit Mirazur is definitely on my list of restaurants to visit. I think it’s worth to plan a trip to the south just to dine there!

    Very nice photos!

  • Deborah31311
    September 11, 2010 6:57am

    You look ever so dashing with a moustache. Ooh la la!

  • Sasha
    September 11, 2010 7:00am

    I had never heard of a mild jalapeño until I came to the U.S. Before that, all of them were freaking hot. Have you heard of the “modified” jalapeño? It’s an interesting story: http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2009/may/13/mild-and-marvelous-mild-jalape241o-turns-pepper/

    The bread shaped like a flower looks so good.

  • BarbF
    September 11, 2010 11:07am

    Try as I might, I just do not get the foam thing. I can’t help thinking it looks like someone spit on my food. I’d prefer a nice infused oil or squirt of some lovely sauce. So unappetizing!

  • September 11, 2010 11:11am

    I don’t normally like foody type restaurants, but your description and beautiful photos made this one come alive (and I read to the end). Living in Provence, I am often disappointed by restaurants, and whether an experience chef or not, feel the food is always better at home or someone else’s home. The produce, if you stick to small ‘producteurs’ is second to none. I hope you visit Arles on your way back, it has a great market, as well as the nearby medieval town of Tarascon where we live (just don’t go to any of the restaurants!)

  • September 11, 2010 11:13am

    You should do restaurant reviews more often. You are good at it!

  • ron shapley
    September 11, 2010 11:42am

    Beautiful photography Dave from a beautiful place, but right now I’m craving a burrito.. Know what I mean ??

  • September 11, 2010 1:37pm

    An amazing meal. In Menton of all places.
    During my summer in San Remo we stopped there often.

    When it gets cold and snowy outside (half the year in Calgary), I visit this website for images of Menton:


  • Giovanna
    September 11, 2010 3:06pm

    I’d realy like to try those green and withe foams. How can I prepare those???

  • September 11, 2010 3:27pm
    David Lebovitz

    angelainprovence: Yes, I agree that most of the best cooking is in someone’s home, especially with all the nice ingredients one can get in Provence at the markets. But this kind of food is reason to go out to eat, since few would tackle this kind of meal on their own, I’d imagine!

    Giovanna: There’s plenty of recipes and tutorials online for making foams. I think you’ll need to get a siphon, to whip it up.

    Sasha: It’s funny because I don’t consider jalapeños ‘mild’, but I guess compared to other chili peppers, they are.

  • missjane
    September 11, 2010 5:07pm

    Fascinating and beautiful post. I enjoyed (vicariously only, alas) your visit and 4 hour (!) lunch at Mirazur. Loved the messy garden and the artistic plates of food. Amongst all the nouveau/trendy foods, I was most intrigued by the blossom bread–what a lovely idea. I am guessing that there is some kind of pan for these?

  • September 11, 2010 9:23pm

    You had me at “walk through their potager.”
    Beautiful, brilliant. Thank you for sharing it.
    (And who knew that Devil’s Claws – a plant I remember well from my Oklahoma childhood – grow in Provence? What a small, strange world!)

  • September 11, 2010 11:46pm

    I know I would enjoy any lunch with such a spectacular view. Such a treat to get the tour of the gardens also.

  • September 12, 2010 5:21am

    how does one not fall in love with France? the food is so artful – almost too good to eat albeit i’m sure you had no problems.

  • September 12, 2010 9:22am

    I’m really intrigued by the wonderful pull-apart bread. It reminds me of a coeur de boeuf tomato–and there is nothing I love more than a coeur de boeuf straight from the garden with a little reduced balsamic vinegar!

    I find your view of how in the US, flavors need to “pop”, very interesting. I feel like in France, it’s a lot about how flavors meld together and complement each other. One flavor helps enhance the beauty of another food, and vice versa.

    Sounds like a wonderful, sunny afternoon!

  • September 12, 2010 4:24pm

    Well….the location absolutely incredible and the food looks good and i bet taste better, i really wish to be there on day for my holiday.


  • September 12, 2010 5:00pm

    The ultimate food experience, realized.

    Time spent in a garden followed immediately by amazing food and luscious views make this commenter breaking out in sweats in the middle of the night.

  • Andrea
    September 12, 2010 10:51pm

    Brilliant post – the photos alone make me want to hop on easyjet straight away.

    If you’re still down there you might like to pay a visit to fromagerie ‘Ceneri’ at rue Menadier in Cannes – their brie truffe is to die for.

    Have a great time!

  • Gavrielle
    September 13, 2010 5:26am

    Mmm, transcendently delicious photos. Someone stuffs those adorable miniature cucumbers? What do they use, tweezers and a microscope?

    I really wish foams would go out of fashion. They always remind me of a dying snail.

  • Jennifer
    September 14, 2010 3:57am

    “French-cut” — the explanation I have heard before is that it is derivative of the term “julienned.” That term got changed to “french-cut” – which in turn is how we ended up with “French fries” which are julienned potatoes.

  • Kristine in Santa Barbara
    September 14, 2010 6:19am

    Thank you so much for the wonderful writing and photos. It was an unusual experience for me to read about a food/dining experience, in France(!) and not be envious. I was just so glad you did all the eating for me! It looked like a lot time in the chair. And one giant cheque. I was extremely envious, though, of the company you kept and your garden tour and hostess.

    I loved your comment about “untamed citrus.” My man grew up in No. Europe and often says things like he doesn’t like citrus. So not true. He loves lemon and orange flavors in marmalades and liquors and desserts and Asian food….just not in that zest-loving way we Americans do. Every muffin or sauce with an especially bold citrus flavor makes him say he doesn’t like citrus. :) Definitely cultural.

    Thanks for slogging away in So. France while the rest of us were away at Burning Man. Your diligence is appreciated.

  • wren
    September 14, 2010 7:40pm

    That bread is so beautiful! I can’t imagine it having a biscuit-like texture with it rise and the smooth sides in the picture. Do you think they would pass on the recipe to you? And also, it doesn’ t really look like a bread you make in a pan, more one that would be scored, no? Thank you for the wonderful photographs!

  • dottie
    September 15, 2010 9:39am

    These longer multi course meals always make my butt fall asleep. Am I the only one? The last time I was at Providence in LA, I was worried I wouldn’t make it back to the car.

  • September 20, 2010 12:53am

    I think Salvador Dali would have been jealous of that magnificent moustache.

  • September 20, 2010 3:42am

    That just looks like such a wonderful trip. I’m a homebody, but your posts often make me want to start a travel fund.

  • September 20, 2010 6:32pm

    Mauro thanks you a lot for such a nice reportage on Mirazur restaurant and garden !
    It is probably one of the nicest we have ever had.

    Awaiting the pleasure to receive you again at Mirazur

  • September 24, 2010 7:22pm

    These photos are beautiful. I just found your blog and the I love the detail and description of everything. I felt like I was having lunch with all of you. The plates are beautiful. I love European dining that it is a long experience and it’s an event. I just wish I was there to sample it with all of you. Looking forward to reading your blog. Ann