At The Famed Bordeaux Restaurant La Tupina, Nothing Ever Changes — Thankfully
The question isn't how La Tupina has changed; it never has. The question is how the world has changed since we last went to this Bordeaux institution. La Tupina — its name is also sometimes rendered as La Tupiña, which is the Bordelais dialect version — was founded 49 years ago by Jean-Pierre Xiradakis, a Frenchman with a Greek surname who aimed to bring the authentic cuisine of the southwestern French countryside into the city. Nowadays, La Tupina is the first stop for celebrities, politicians both aspiring (like Alain Juppé, ex-prime minister of France and now mayor of Bordeaux) and has-been (former French president Nicolas Sarkozy), and gourmands of all nationalities. Success has allowed Xiradakis to take over the narrow Rue Porte de la Monnaie, where La Tupina sits, to establish also a delicatessen, a Greek-inspired seafood bistro, and a boutique hotel. More power to him.
The centerpiece at La Tupina is still a massive hearth on which whole lambs are roasted, game birds are hung, beef turns on a spit, and other visual incarnations remind one that this is cuisine paysanne. Foie gras and medleys of local mushrooms appear in plates, compliments of the bounty that grows along the nearby Dordogne and Garonne rivers. Set within the catacomb of the neighborhood's old buildings, the restaurant's interior is a connected row of separate rooms, each with just a few seats. My advice is to sit outside. Not only does the un-air-conditioned interior get hot in the summer, but the patio seating, with its view of street life, is so much more of an experience.
Our party, being wine-oriented, started our recent meal at La Tupina with an apéritif of Lillet (a wine-based concoction flavored with citrus peels). Sipping it slowly passed the (brief) time it took for our appetizers to arrive. A salad included giant chunky tomatoes that offered up volumes of savory flavor. A medallion of foie gras, reflecting the proximity to the duck and goose farms of the Dordogne and Gascony, was served traditionally — pan-seared and accompanied by fruit (in this case peaches cooked in a syrup).
The dorade (sea bream), duck, and lamb made main courses a difficult choice. I fell back on the shoulder of lamb, roasted on the hearth, which is a perennial on the menu. The surface had a deep crispness and char that set off a contrast of flavors with the meat inside. A side of mogettes (traditional white beans) was included, and I augmented these with a side of pommes frites (French fries), as they are cooked here in delicious goose fat.
Another standard here is the macaronade, a traditional pasta dish that might be considered a distant cousin of fettuccine Alfredo. Both are pasta in a cream sauce, the Gascon version incorporating foie gras and bacon. Vegetarians will be pleased (and maybe surprised) to learn that La Tupina treats them as first-class customers too. There is a vegetarian version of macaronade that is highly enjoyable.
Desserts are first-class members of the meal in France. A tart topped with seasonal strawberries and raspberries and whipped cream and a bowl of fig ice cream both excelled.
At this point, some civilizations would be finished at the table. Thankfully, the French are not. A glass of Armagnac from just to the south, in Gascony, completed the evening and gave us energy for a walk back to our hotel, a solid mile through the historic heart of the Bordeaux.
Want to try some French cuisine for yourself, but don't know where to start? Check out our guide with 14 essential French foods.