Unlike some Michelin-starred restaurants I have visited, Atmosphères is refreshingly casual, surrounded by trees and meadows on a hillside above the lake. Pontet looks after the front of house, charming guests and serving drinks in a simple sundress and sandals, while out on the convivial terrace, it’s all about the sublime view over Bourget. And unlike the set menus at La Bateau Ivre,Perrillat-Mercerot throws new recipes together from what is available on any given day, so you never know what to expect. The tasting menu just reads ANTI-PASTI… POISSON DE LAC OU MER… LEGUME… VIANDE… FROMAGES… FRUITS… CHOCOLAT.
The mystery whets my appetite, but I don’t have to wait long to discover that the main ingredient at Atmosphères is creativity. The poisson, for example, turns out to be lavaret again, but here, the fish is almost unrecognizable: a square-cut fillet just a couple of millimeters thick, spread with a layer of sweet-pea puree and served up with a tiny mound of perfect petits pois, sprigs of lemon mint, and a poached quail’s egg. It’s fresh. It’s tasty. It’s (dare I say it?) genius. Even the salad is incredible: local vegetables and heritage tomatoes cooked to al dente perfection and served with tiny wild flowers and a chicken broth infused with lemon and anise. It tastes like summer in a bowl.
It’s then that I have a minor epiphany. The early evening light is soft and hazy, with wisps of cloud collecting in billows along the mountaintops. The lake below seems to change texture minute by minute, as eddies roughen its silken surface, as catamarans, dinghies, and pedalos carve wakes from one pontoon to another. A V of geese flaps by overhead. The setting sun turns the ridges pink. And suddenly, eating this amazing food is no longer enough—I want to see where it comes from, to trace it to its source. And that is how I end up on a boat at dawn with Olivier Parpillon and a crate of lavaret.
Until a few years ago, Parpillon worked in an office, but he gave it up for fishing, which he loves—spending 80 hours a week doing what his grandfather and father did before him. “Things haven’t changed in 100 years,” he tells me as he hauls in another catch, “except now the boats and nets are plastic.” As I sit soaking up the view over the brightening lake, it’s easy to appreciate his affinity for this lifestyle. Despite the hard work, there’s something very appealing about living in a way unchanged for generations.
Wine is another important element of the local cuisine, and it lures me to a vineyard near the village of Jongieux, high above Lac du Bourget. The Dupasquier family has been making wine here for five generations, or so I am told by Veronique, the pretty daughter of vintner Noël Dupasquier, when I rock up unannounced for a tasting. She takes my appearance in her stride, offering up “One, two, three, four … how many do you want?” wines for tasting, which she pours with a generous hand. In delightfully accented English, she walks me through the wines of the region, from the lemony Jacquere and the distinctive Altesse to the punchy, deep-red Mondeuse.
