Route de Vin Alsace, France

Hotel de Remparts is a nice, modern, and very quiet hotel in a quiet location in a quiet village. Part of the medieval town walls were used for one side of the hotel, hence the name.

Remparts is a European version of a Holiday Inn, and if that is your standard for travel, you will love it. When in Europe, I prefer quaint old hotels, preferable something built about 600 years ago, and leave 20th-century modern to stays to Las Vegas visits. But should I need a sound night’s sleep in Alsace, I make a beeline for the slick, comfortable quiet of Remparts.

Arbre Vert hotel and restaurant is a classic example of the middle range of small (22 rooms) family run French hotels. The hotel has been a family business at the same location for four generations, since 1800. There are hotels like this all over France, and if you want to ‘go native’, these are the places to do it. But Arbre Vert is a standout for this type of hotel. What sets Arbre Vert apart from the rest is it’s location in a quiet side street directly across from the town square in very quiet little village that is the most attractive little village in France.

It’s an old building, and an old hotel, although regularly renovated. Rooms sizes tend toward typical European smallness, sometimes the floors creaked, but the bed was comfy and nothing was amiss. We liked it, but we liked the Remparts, just a couple blocks away a tiny little better for the views from the rooms and the dark wood decor. However, Remparts is a bit out of the old town. It’s a short drive or just a few blocks walk, but Arbre Vert is right in the old town center, and there is a lot to be said for staying there which makes it easy to take a stroll through town,
which we do before diner, after diner, before breakfast, and after breakfast. Kayserberg is one of the great places to amble through, and it is small, so the walk is refreshing. It won’t wear you out.

It was easy to find parking just across the street. The town square, across the street from the hotel, also seems to double as the town’s main parking lot. As there is a restaurant in the hotel, a deal is offered on room and diner (half pension).

Entering Kayserberg from the general direction of Colmar, follow the main street, Rue General de Gaulle, around a sharp bend, cross the river, and the town square is on the right in a couple blocks. The main street forms one side of the square. For the Arbre Vert, take the first right hand  turn marking the sides of the square perpendicular to the main street. Or, if you drive around all four sides of the square, you will come to it.

We stopped at Au Lion d’Or for lunch one day, and the place was packed, without a seat or empty table in sight. No problem. Arms waved, the staff huddled, waiters bustled about, and two spaces and chairs appeared at a table where we joined some Frenchmen, a couple from Denmark, and a Brit for lunch.

We’ve taken 31 European vacations, including driving about 32,000 miles around France. Since France has more than a lifetime’s worth of good places to eat, we make it a practice to try new places-with a few exceptions, like restaurants we liked so much that we want to go there again. Au Lion d’Or is one of just four restaurants in France that we re-visit (the nearby Rendez Voss de Chasse is another).

Au Lion d’Or is not a super elegant place nor is the food refined to the ultimate degree, but it only costs half to a third as much as the places that do have those things, so that makes it’s rustic and charming dining room, with perfectly prepared simple meals, a great place to eat.

The famed Michelin Guide has two restaurant rating systems, the well known stars and a secondary category of crossed silverware. Au Lion d’Or is a perfect example of an XX restaurant, although I think it merits a red XXXX. There is no better way to dive into the culture of French dining than eating the smoked salmon appetizer at Au Lion d’Or. Au Lion d’Or occupies the place in French culture that Denny’s does in the U.S.A. A moment’s reflection upon starting dinner with Denny’s dreary iceberg lettuce salad or Au Lion d’Or’s perfect plate of thin-sliced salmon, onion, lemon, and capers is a lifelong lesson of why the French know how to eat and Americans don’t.

The Ancel family has operated the restaurant since 1724.

Although the Michelin Red Guide says we have eaten in better restaurants, this is our favorite haut cuisine restaurant in France. The decor is old school, rich, and elegant. Tapestries depicting hunting scenes decorate the walls (the name translates as ‘meeting for the hunt’). Table cloths and napkins of white linen set off the dark wood furniture, and, of course, the waiters wear tuxes.

On our first visit, we indulged in the five-course menu. Everything was superb. On the second visit, I discovered one of my all time favorite dishes on the carte*, and have ordered it on every subsequent visit. This dish alone would make Rendez Vous de la Chasse my favorite restaurant– Medallions d’Agnue, thin slices of boneless lamb chop, perfectly cooked and displayed around the plate like the opening petals of flower with an incredible sauce in the middle of the lamb slices, and accompanied by perfectly cooked green beans (important aside, you have no idea how good green beans can be until you eat them in a great restaurant in France. This experience created one of our standard European souvenirs--taking home packages of French green bean seeds for our American garden).

Contrary to what many guide books say, a multi-course meal from the menu is not the least expensive way to eat. The proportions of each course are much smaller than the amount served if you ordered each course a la carte*. Filling up a la carte costs less. When we order a la carte*, we are usually satisfied with ordering only an entrée. Ordering an entrée at Rendez Vous de la Chasse produced a meal starting with a superb small appetizer. The purpose of this little delight is to keep you from getting bored while waiting for your main course, the same role in the meal as is played by the salad and bread basket in American restaurants. By the way, if you order a salad in a  French restaurant, it will be served at the end of the meal, not as the first course.

Small boiled potatoes, bread, and green beans accompanied the lamb. Appetizer, meat, sauce, green beans, potatoes, and bread– plenty of food, and all from ordering one entrée a la carte.*

We wanted to try the desert specialty, "Le Coupe Alsacian." I ordered our two entrées and two Coupes. The waiter stopped writing our order, put down his pencil, looked up and said, "No. Not two. It is too large. One is enough for two or three people. I shall put down one." One was served. He was right. When was the last time a waiter in an American restaurant refused to let you spend $35?

* "a la carte" means making choices ‘from (a) the (le) menu (carte)’ as opposed to ordering a fixed price multi-course meal listed on the "menu".

Clos St Vincent is a haute cuisine restaurant a little way out of Ribeauville up on a hill overlooking the Rhine valley, surrounded by vineyards. Thanks to the location, good weather, and the high quality food, this was one of the most delightful lunches we have had anywhere. Since it was nice weather, sat outside on the terrace, well shaded by trees interplanted with flowers and with good views of the mountains, ancient Ribeauville below, and the Rhine valley.

Although we sat outside, none of the elegance of a fine restaurant was lost. Tables were set with white linen, fine china, crystal goblets, and fancy silverware. Being lunch al fresco, the waiters wore white jackets and ties, rather than their more formal evening uniform of tuxedos. Being a one star Michelin restaurant, the food and service was superb, and expensive. The lunch menu was engraved. Everything considered, it was easily worth the high prices to enjoy what must be as close to a perfect lunch as possible.

There is also an attractive indoor dining room.

There is no point discussing exactly what we had, for the Clos St Vincent does not offer a standing menu. It changes daily, I assume because, like many great restaurants, what is served each day depends on what the chef finds good and fresh at the local market early in the morning. What is important is that everything we had was top quality, as was the service, in the fully formal French way, which is often misunderstood by Americans, so I explained it in a review
(experiences) on French waiters.

Clos St Vincent is also an attractive hotel, but we didn’t stay there. Clos St Vincent illustrates an important difference between French (European) and American cultures. In the USA, hotel restaurants tend to be overpriced compared to the free standing competition, and often of lesser quality. Not so in Europe, where restaurants in hotels in small towns are usually the best places to eat and prices are the same as at independent restaurants. Travelers in western Europe should never hesitate to eat at a hotel restaurant, except in big cities where some expensive hotels tend toward the American practice, but still, the closest to an American hamburger we ever had in Europe was at the Holiday Inn Luxembourg, but it was not cheap.

The bottom line is that, if that you are prepared to spend a lot for a superior lunch in a grand setting served by a perfect wait staff, it would be hard to beat Clos St Vincent (but the Chevre d’Or in Eze is its peer, see review). We have only been there once, but if in the neighborhood at meal time, we would not hesitate to go again.

Chambard serves up expensive, but very fine food in an elegant, attractive small dinning room. Chambard illustrates an important difference between French (European) and American cultures.

In the U.S.A., hotel restaurants tend to be overpriced when compared to the free standing competition and often of a lesser quality. Not so in Europe, where restaurants in hotels in small towns are usually the best places to eat and prices are the same as at independent restaurants. We ate at the restaurant and can’t fault it in any way. The only problem is that it is close to two of our favorite places to eat in the world, Au Lion d’Or and Le Rendez Voss de Chasse, another fine example of why you should eat at hotel restaurants in France.

Courte Paille is not your usual French restaurant. It is a French fast-food chain, and it occupies an important place in our travels in France. After a week or so of eating fine French food, we get a craving for a good basic hamburger, or at least for some plain American food. That’s when we head for Courte Paille, where they serve spit-roasted chicken cooked over a wood fire. The "chef" takes a just-cooked bird, whacks off a couple pieces for your plate, and adds some green beans and a glass of vin de maison blanc - it is the best fast- food meal there is. It’s terrific. It’s French. It’s American, but it will remind you of just how much better the French do things when it comes to food.

Topping it off, a visit to Courte Paille fixes the desire to eat some basic American food, for what is more American than barbequed chicken, and barbequed chicken is what Courte Paille is all about. After a lunch or diner at Courte Paille, we are ready for another week of heady Michelin-starred meals.

Courte Pailles is a much better break from the local cuisine than McDonald’s, which are also all over Europe because, for some reason I do not know, European burgers are not the same as a real American burger (except at the Luxembourg airport Holiday Inn), but Courte Paille is real American food. Just don’t tell the French.

Unusual for restaurants in France, Courte Paille is chain. Look for them in the same places you look for the fast-food line up in the USA - at the edge of town on the main road into town or near major urban area expressway entrances.

We have never been able to find a list of where they are located, but they seem to be about as common as Wendy’s in the USA. There seems to be a tendency for them to be in the vicinity of Novotels (a French hotel chain), but I wouldn’t yet bet on that. We spot them by their distinctive shape - they look like a yurt - a white or light tan, round, free-standing building surrounded by parking with a dark brown conical roof.

Since we don’t know where they are, but we do know we will want to eat there sooner or later, we are always on the lookout for a Courte Paille when driving around France, and we keep finding them.

Lunch time in France presents a bit of a dilemma. For the natives, lunch is a major meal. Stopping for lunch at a restaurant means a 1-2 hour interruption in sightseeing, but there are ways to reduce the time needed to eat lunch.

Restaurant are packed, especially from 12 to 1:30. Go for lunch at 1:30. By then, the big crowd is near the end of lunch, and since most places close at 2pm, service is prompt. The quickest thing to order for lunch is either an omlette or a Croque Monsieur, an open faced hot ham and (melted) cheese sandwich that is one of the glories of French food. Or, if losing daylight time to eating is of no concern, live it up, and have a typical big French meal for lunch. We usually opt for the shorter lunch or a picnic, unless we find ourselves at someplace special for lunch (like Clos St Vincent, see review).

Relais de Routiers-- truck stops– serve very good food at bargain prices.

Forget fast food, except for Courte Paille(see review). This is France, where eating is always pleasure if you avoid McDonald’s and its ilk.

A picnic is fast and, if the weather is good, delightful way to have lunch in France. There are three ways to make yourself a great picnic lunch: 1) Go downtown in the villages and get some bread, cheese, smoked meat, and a pastry or four (we especially like ham or smoked salmon) at the appropriate shops. Make a sandwich. Why this selection of foods? Because nothing needs refrigeration (be careful of what pastry you buy. Some need refrigeration). You go shopping, and toss it in the car until you are ready for lunch with no worries about salmonella. If shopping the villages, be sure to take siesta time into account, or all the shops will be closed. Big box stores (see the next lunch option) do not close for siesta. 2) Do the same at the Walmart like places on the outskirts of the larger towns and cities. Look for a big box store with a big parking lot. There is a good grocery store inside. 3) To really live it up, we shop for our picnic lunch at a pastry shop.

Then stop somewhere appealing for lunch– a city park, an ancient monument, or a field in the countryside.

If you are driving, a big bonus of not stopping for lunch during the heart of the lunch hour, noon to 1:30pm, is that traffic all but disappears form the highways. We figure that we can travel as far over the lunch hour as during the rest of the day. Plan accordingly.

Be very careful not to overindulge if you have wine at lunch. DUI penalties are severe in Europe. Sometimes we will split a half bottle of wine at lunch, but usually we stick with Evian.

The Route de Vin Alsace runs south from Marlenheim to Thann, neither of which is worth much time. We almost always start in Molsheim.

The route runs along the jagged line where the Vosges Mountains meet the Rhine River Plain. The foothills of the mountains are covered in vineyards, and the road passes through a number of charming old Alsatian villages characterized by pastel half-timbered houses. This is the combination, half-timbered houses with vineyards on the hill for the background, that gives the region its great charm. I have listed the towns along the road in the order in which we like them, not as the occur on the route.

Originally a Roman outpost, old Kayserberg (pop. 2,800), blessedly free of hordes of visitors, is a medieval gem set at the edge of the Rhine Plain at the mouth of a small river valley. Vineyards climb the steep hills, and the ruins of the old fort stand watch above the town. The old, impressive houses run along the main street and the streets bordering it from the point where they start as you come into town to the house where Albert Schweitzer was born.

The sights of Obernai(pop 9,900) lie within the well-preserved old-town walls and center on the spectacular Market Square, lined with great half-timbered mansion bedecked with flower boxes filled with geraniums. Consult the Internet and the French Tourist Office to try to arrive on market day.

The charms of tiny Dambach-la-Ville are easy to miss, but stop at the town square (identifiable as the widest point on the road through town) and look around. Note how the town name reflects the political history of the area: first part of France, then German, then French, etc., etc.

Like Kayserberg, Ribeauville(pop.4,800) is jammed into a narrow river valley. The top sight is the mile-long ancient main street, Le Grand Rue. Don’t drive through; get out and walk. The side streets branching off the main drag are also worth exploring. The old chateau (open), 11 to 16th centuries, stands watch above the town.

Riquewihr (pop 1,100) is the largest, best-known, and overall best-preserved of the old Alsatian towns. Once inside the well-preserved old city walls, you find yourself in a nearly perfectly preserved 16th-century town. The compact, about 500x330m, old town is easy to explore, and there is no street not worth the walk. So, since Riquewihr is the largest, best known, and best preserved of the villages, why do I put it in fifth place? Partly because it is an obvious tourist town. This goes beyond the crowds of visitors. When you go into a restaurant, you are obviously the intended lintel. In Kayserberg, by contrast, when we go into a restaurant, we are outsiders intruding into a local culture, which is much more interesting.

There are several pleasant but not outstanding towns between Dambach la Ville and Kayserberg.

The special character of the towns of the Route de Vin, and what makes this one of the most charming regions in Europe, is the 15th century architectural style of half-timbered construction. Since the Ancient Greeks, western architecture has been dominated by the Classical Style, characterized by pillars, framed windows, and, above all, a symmetric facade. From time to time, building styles have rebelled against the Classical standard(Cubism, modern). The first rebellion to survive in any numbers came in 1400-1600, the half-timbered building.

Characteristics of half-timbered construction: First and foremost, the faced is not symmetrical. A Classical style building has equal numbers of windows, columns, and secondary entrances equally spaced on both sides of the main entrance. Not so in Half-timbered construction. Buildings are ‘lopsided’ by design. Some builders carried this to the point of constructing rooms with no square corners and floors that are not flat, but roll like the deck of a ship at sea (we once stayed in pub hotel like this in England, and it was rare treat as hotels go).

Second, Classical buildings support the roof the way the ancient Greeks did– the walls are like fort walls– solid stone with windows. Half-timbered buildings used a frame of heavy wood beams to support the roof, and left the outside of the beams exposed. The gaps between the beams are filled in with non-weight bearing bricks which were then covered with 2 to 3 inches of plaster. The plaster and exposed wood was then painted. The wood is almost always painted black or brown, but there are town styles of painting the plaster– black and white buildings ( the colors are self-explanatory) found mostly in England, and a variety of pastel hues, as in Alsace.

You may decide you feel differently, but I find a street of half-timbered houses forms the most aesthetically pleasing urban scape there is. If there is a God, then, by God, this is the way God meant towns and cities to look.

Forget all the nasty thing you have heard about French waiters. They are the best in the world, once you understand how a properly run French restaurant operates.

French waiters are often and undeservedly maligned by Americans because Americans do not know how to eat in France. It’s their country. It’s their ball game, and if you want to play the game, learn the rules. Once you get it, you will appreciate that French service is the best in the world. To start, consider some adventures we have had with French waiters.

1) We went to a two-star Michelin restaurant (no reservation, no problem) having already decided to order the house specialty recommended in the Red Guide, a desert, "Le Coupe Alsacian." I ordered our two entrées and two Coupes. The waiter stopped writing, closed his order book, looked at us and "No." He continued, "Not two. It is too large. One is enough for two or three people. I shall put down one." It came. We ate. He was right.

When was the last time a waiter in an American restaurant refused to let you spend $35?

2) We stopped at a small hotel/restaurant in the south of France (no reservations, no problem). I left my menu translator book in the room when we went to diner. There was one item on the menu that stumped me. I asked the waiter to explain. He offered several explanations in French and in English, but still we were puzzled. "One moment," said he and he disappeared into the kitchen, returning with the chef in tow. More bilingual conversation, but still we were puzzled.

"One moment", said the chef. He disappeared, returning with the dishwasher. "He is from Spain," said the chef, "Perhaps you speak Espangole?" My wife does a bit, so we had a conversation in French, Spanish, English, and a bit of Italian from somewhere, trying to translate the mysterious dish into something two Americans understood. No luck.

"One moment," I said. I went back to our room for the translator book, took it to the table, handed it
to the waiter who studied the book. "Ah hah," said he, handed me the book, pointing to the mysterious words — Roast Guinea Fowl. After all that, I ordered it, and it was terrific.

We spent more than a half hour deciphering three words. The customer wanted to know, and the staff were determined it would happen.

3) We stayed one night at small hotel/restaurant in the middle of a vineyard in Provence (no reservations, no problem). We ordered the prix-fixe meal with that great ice cream concoction, the Coupe Denmark, for desert. At the end the waiter inquired, "Did Monsieur and Madame enjoy their meal?" I replied, "That was the best desert I ever ate."
The waiter asked, "Would Monsieur like another?" Monsieur would. After three deserts, Monsieur was full, and called diner to a halt. No extra charge. Two free superb deserts, because Monsieur showed enthusiasm for the food.

4) Most great French dishes include a sauce, some of which is invariably left on the plate when the food is gone. The French use a piece of bread to mop up and eat the remaining sauce. I finished a beautifully sauced dish, called the waiter, and asked for spoon, which was promptly deliver by an obviously puzzled waiter who lingered by the table to see what the American was going to do with a spoon when diner was over. I used the spoon to drink the sauce left over on the plate like soup. Said the waiter, "Monsieur, in France, we use a piece of bread for that." Said I, "I know. Too many calories." The waiter cracked up, shared it with the rest of the staff, and all bid us a cheerful farewell
when we left.

5) I don’t like to let my wine glass get completely empty. With some still in the glass, I picked up the $125 bottle to pour a refill. The sommelier almost ran over three waiters rushing to the table to pour it himself. He also noted where the level of the wine was in my glass, and never let it drop below that for the rest of the meal.

From the number of American tourists traveling around Europe on bus tours and by train, it seems that a lot of Americans, the most car crazy culture on Earth, are reluctant to drive in Europe. This was brought home to me on one of our trips to Rothenburg o.d.T. Having driven into the old town before, we knew better than to do it again, so we joined a flock of tour busses parked just outside the old city gate. Walking down the main drag, I fell into a conversation with another American visitor, who, not recognizing us from his tour bus group, asked, "What tour are you on?" When I said, "None. We’re driving.", he launched into a bunch of questions about what it was like, driving in Europe. It was clear that he would rather be driving than in a bus, but the unknowns were too much. So, here are the basics on driving yourself in Europe.

There are only five things that are essential to know for a successful driving trip in Europe:

1) Learn the highway signs. This turns out to be pretty easy because Europe uses the international road sign system that is language free. Road signs are all symbolic, and very logically laid out. AAA has a three-page brochure that covers it all.

2) European drivers follow much closer than Americans are used to. They are not tailgating. This is how they drive because it is necessary to start close to pass on Europe’s roads, where opportunities to pass are limited.

3) Avoid driving in big cities. If you want to "do" Paris, London, Rome, Munich, Vienna, Venice, Amsterdam, etc., take the train. Car travel is for the countryside and the smaller places. Years ago, we sent out one Sunday morning to drive across London. Being Sunday, streets were deserted. It took seven hours. That’s when I became convinced that it is crazy to drive in the big cities. Today it is worse. There is so much more traffic that London now charges $24 a day to drive into town to try to ration traffic.

4) On expressways, keep right except to pass. If you don’t, you will die, especially in Germany.

5) Do not drink and drive. Not even a little bit. Since there is a bar within one block of wherever you are everywhere in Europe, this is no problem.

That’s it. You are now ready to drive all over Europe, but there are also some things that are useful, but not essential to know:

A good map really helps. Get a map with a scale of 1:750,000 or 1:500,000. The detailed Michelin maps are the best. Bartholomew also makes a superb tourist map, which is included in Baedeker Guides. The Michelin Red Guide includes a lot of town maps.

The car rental company will tell you to use premium gas. Forget it. Use regular (benzine).

Car rental prices vary a lot from airport to airport, in part due to tax differences. Luxemburg is the cheapest. Paris and Switzerland are really expensive. Frankfurt isn’t too bad.

Toll roads are fast and very expensive. We prefer the non-expressway roads because that’s where you find the things to see. Some countries, Switzerland and Austria come to mind, do not have toll booths on their toll roads. Instead, you have to buy a special sticker for you windshield to pay the toll. These are good for one year and are very expensive. Check with the tourist info office or the tourist website before you go to see if there is a limited period permit for tourists.

Distances and speed are given in kilometers. Kilometers easily translate into miles by multiplying kilometers by 0.6. If you can’t do that in your head, shame on you. That’s what comes from sleeping through math class.

When it comes to guide books for a European road trip, Michelin Green Guides are close to indispensable.
 
Unfortunately, more and more towns are replacing the Blue Disk with parking meters, but there are still some who use the Blue Disk. A parking zone sign with a central blue circle (see a guide to International Road Signs) indicates Blue Disk parking. It works like this. You have a blue clock face that rotates on a piece of cardboard. When you park, set the clock to the time you park.  The street sign will tell you how long you get to park for free. If a cop comes by, he checks your disk time and compares the time that has passed since you parked to what is allowed. If you go over the limit, you get a ticket. Don’t cheat. There is a big fine if the cop sees that you set a time that hasn’t arrived yet. If your rental car does not come with a Blue Disk, go to a bank or tobacco shop or newsstand and ask for one. Usually they are free.

Two of the international Road signs are "Priority Road" and "Non-priority Road." A priority road always has the right of way at an intersection. The non-priority road may not have a stop sign, but stop you must, even if the "non-priority road" sign was 10 miles back. Once signed as such, a priority road or a non-priority road remains as such until the opposite sign cancels it.

Rent the smallest car possible. Roads are narrow with lots of curves and parking spaces are minuscule. I don’t mean to brag, but I got a spontaneous round of applause from the entire crowd having lunch at a lakeside sidewalk café in Switzerland for the parking job I executed between three motorcycles and truck. My point is that I have had a lot of experience driving in Europe, I we never rent a car any bigger than the second to smallest category, which is generally more comfortable than the smallest.

If you do not know how to drive straight shift, be sure you specify an automatic transmission when renting a car. Automatics bump the price up by quite a bit. If visiting the UK, where the driver sits on the left, a straight shift is a real challenge since you have to shift with your left hand.

Although the important traffic control signs are the same everywhere in Europe, there are  variations in directional signs, the signs that tell you were you going or where intersecting roads are going. Signs on German freeways are a model for the world. Take note of the first intersection you come to, because all the rest will be laid out just like it. On side roads, some countries denote the direction to a town by placing a little sign with the town’s name beside the
road where you are to go. Thus, if there is a rectangular sign to St Clos is on your right, either just before or just across the road intersecting from the right, it means, turn right. In other countries, the sign for St Clos might be on the opposite side of the road, with an arrow cut on the right hand end of the sign, which means turn right for St Clos, even though the sign is on the left. Pay attention to the position and shape of signs, and you will soon get the hang of it.