Marseille

Vanille Noire: Back in Black

When we first arrived in Marseille, we heard rumblings about a most intriguing ice cream flavor. A “black vanilla” whose color and savory taste was rumored to come from squid ink, fitting for the city’s Mediterranean perch. In a city where exaggeration is the norm, we had to go check it out for ourselves. A long line snaked from Vanille Noire, the name of both the ice cream shop and famous flavor. The vendor handed us our scoop, so black it looked like a photo negative of a vanilla cone. Our first lick was rich Madagascar vanilla. A few seconds later, the sweet became salty like the seaside air. We were hooked – regardless of what it was made of.

Marseille

Hatsatoun: All You Need is Lavash

Lavash is so integral to Armenian life that UNESCO placed it on the list of Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2014. Armenians roll the thin flatbread into wraps or dunk it in dips like smoky eggplant moutabal. Instead of throwing rice at weddings, they drape the supple flatbread over newlyweds’ shoulders for good luck. More than mere food, UNESCO champions lavash for its collective baking process that strengthens community and family ties. This is exactly what a new Armenian boulangerie is doing in Marseille.

Marseille

Cha’Houla: Comoros in a Bowl

We’ve never seen a place like Eater Food Club. Advertised as a food court in the non-touristy Saint-Pierre neighborhood, we expected a shopping center or one of the more modern food halls that are all the rage. Instead, we found a non-descript corridor that seemed more corporate than culinary. Yet in lieu of office doors, the hallway is lined with counters at open kitchens. Despite this unique layout, Eater Food Club slings standard food-court fare like burgers, bao, and pizza. Among these, Cha’houla stands out for its Comorian food. At Cha’houla, you’ll find comforting Comorian dishes like madaba – stewed manioc leaves – and n’tibe beef stew. “My greatest pride is sharing my culture,” beams the young owner, Fayad Hassani. Marseille has more Comorians than the island nation’s capital, Moroni, yet their cuisine is relatively unknown here due to very few Comorian restaurants.

Marseille

Recipe: Yabrak, Stuffed Romaine Leaves For a Tunisian Passover in Marseille

On March 27 of this year, Monique and Josef, the Moroccan-born couple that own Patisserie Avyel, plan to roast a turmeric-coated lamb shoulder above a bed of onions. My friend Judith, whose family hails from Algeria’s Tlemcen region, will blend almonds and raisins into mlosia, a thick jam. And, in my apartment, I will simmer matzo balls in chicken broth as my Lithuanian ancestors once did. All of us Marseillais will be cooking these foods for Passover, the Jewish holiday that commemorates the exodus of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery. While Jewish celebrations and cooking are as intertwined as the braided challah bread we eat on Shabbat – “all of our fêtes pass through the kitchen,” quips Frédérique, a Marseillaise with Tunisian roots.

Marseille

Libala/Kin: Where France Meets Congo

When it comes to cultural identity, France carries the flag for universalism. This ideal aims to unite French citizens regardless of their ancestral roots, country of origin, or religion. You are French first, not a hyphen that encompasses multiple identities (i.e. Franco-Algerian.) In Marseille – a city which proudly differs from the rest of France – universalism isn’t universally practiced, since many Marseillais embrace their blend of cultural heritage. Franco-Congolese chef Hugues Mbenda does this skillfully at his delicious duo of restaurants, Kin and Libala. Both are housed in one location in the city center, a two-for-one-special born from a collaboration with Hugues’s partner, Mathilde Godart. By day, Libala serves up lip-smacking street food while Kin parades gastronomic plates at nightfall. Both mix Mediterranean and Congolese ingredients.

Marseille

Chez Ferrato: Corsican Comfort

Jean-Pierre Ferrato has vin coursing through his veins. Since as young as he can remember, he spent time at Chez Ferrato, his grandfather’s wholesale-retail wine shop. Grandpa Ferrato would siphon French and Algerian table wine from giant wooden barrels into glass bottles, then bring them to restaurants and individuals on his delivery tricycle. Customers would return the bottles, les consignes, for Ferrato to wash, dry, then reuse again. The process was a ton of work – “It was eco-friendly before the word even existed,” winks Jean-Pierre. The ever-smiling Marseillais is still satisfying locals’ thirst for wine eight decades after his grandfather launched his shop in 1940, making his own vintage by upping the wine quality and swapping the barrels for tables topped with Corsican dishes.

Marseille

Station Uvale du Palais: Last Juice Bar Standing

When the Phocaeans founded Marseille in 6th century B.C., these ancient Greek explorers launched France’s long history with wine production and consumption. In the 1930s, southern France became famous for another kind of grape juice. In the southwestern town of Moissac, home of the Chasselas grape, Dr. Armand Rouanet touted the amazing health benefits of grape-seeds at his uvarium. At this first-of-its-kind center for grape-based therapies (uva is the Latin root for grape), people would consume a grape-only diet (2-6 pounds a day) to heal everything from cellulite to constipation. Ironically, this grape cleanse was ideal for detoxifying the liver, the organ most damaged by wine. This temple of grape glorification was such a success that dozens of stations uvales sprouted across the south of France to peddle the just-pressed grape juice alongside other fresh-squeezed fruit.