The spirit of a bistro, the touch of a great table

Ever since that revealing discovery in January 2022, I have loved bringing those memories back to life and returning, time and again, to Bistrot Blaise. The pleasure is still exactly the same, calling back the memory of so many good, great moments around a table.

One step along this old street in Marche-en-Famenne is enough to bring that feeling of pure pleasure rushing back, especially when you catch sight of this discreet house with an almost familiar first name: Blaise.

The name comes from a grandmother who was a grocer and who, back in the day, also fed people with her heart. It already tells you something true and tender. Today, however, Blaise has above all become the home of François-Xavier Simon, a local boy who returned here after honing his experience in some great and prestigious kitchens. A house that has found its own rhythm, identity and way of doing things.

At Blaise, there is no unnecessary showmanship. François-Xavier Simon’s cooking is precise, French and contemporary, without ever trying to disguise itself. It moves forward with the confidence and convictions that come from a man’s doubts, his determination, his desire to do better every day and his talent.

It is driven by the produce, the cooking and combinations sometimes touched by influences from elsewhere. A spice, a note of acidity, a condiment, an unexpected aroma: just enough to shift your perspective without ever losing the thread.

My meal begins with freshness and iodine, as always, my obligatory starting point: Gillardeau oysters, grapes, radish and shallot. Then come chorizo croquettes and Cantabrian anchovies. The tone is set. And set firmly. You know exactly where you are.

Unexpectedly, fine slices of lightly warmed redfish in olive oil arrive, accompanied by pink radish and Venere rice. That delicate reading continues with enoki mushrooms, fresh herbs and a wonderfully deep amber mushroom broth.

The cooking then becomes more indulgent with a saupiquet of mussels, leeks cooked in beurre noisette, sautéed chanterelles and sobacharé, all carried by a creamy Noilly Prat jus and herb oil. A generous dish, worked through to the smallest detail, yet retaining real clarity.

Fish played an important part for me that day. Sole fillets with sorrel, roasted in foaming butter, come with a grey shrimp velouté. The Blaise Condiment brings together Camus artichoke, Red Meat radish and trout roe seasoned with chicory juice, lifted by a crumb made from yeast flakes.

Then comes red mullet, seared on the skin, with a tomato fondue enriched with sobrasada, courgettes with balsamic vinegar, roasted peppers, fried padrón peppers and caper leaves. A head-and-bone jus with tandoori and smoked curry brings depth and warmth to the dish, while roasted vermicelli, rocket, Cantabrian anchovies, pine nuts and Kalamata olives carry the composition further.

Dessert, where I once again become the willing victim, brings me back to something softer. Pistachio crémeux and lemon meringue, followed by red fruits, raspberries, blackberries and cherries in their juice, accompanied by a redcurrant coulis with kirsch. A fresh, indulgent yet light finale, perfectly in keeping with the rest of the meal.

From my very first visits, it has been the contrasts that have drawn me into these dishes: iodine answering smoke, acidity answering roundness, herbs answering spice. But above all, nothing here is gratuitous, and nothing comes along to hide the product.

And then there is the work with the sauces, which has grown in depth and character day after day, week after week, month after month.

In the dining room, Hanna gives Blaise an essential part of its soul. Sunny, laughing and attentive, she plays no role. She welcomes, exchanges, accompanies. With her, hospitality is not a performance, let alone a rehearsed routine. It is natural, alive and deeply sincere.

And then there is the cellar. It is growing too, becoming richer, deeper and more personal. Bottles that tell stories of discoveries, desires and encounters. A cellar evolving at the same pace as the house, with that same sense of coherence and freedom.

I get carried away. But ultimately, no more than I did on that very first day.

Like that gentle feeling you can experience when you fall for a place.
And return to it simply to feel it all over again.

LD · Eating · September 2026