The Burgundy table, dish by dish

Burgundy’s cooking is built on three things it has always had: wine, mustard and very good beef. The dishes are old, unfussy, and served in the same order in every village restaurant.

Gougères

Choux pastry with cheese folded in, baked into small puffs, eaten warm. They arrive with the aperitif, before you have ordered anything.

In a cellar tasting they are not a snack but a tool — the fat cushions the acidity of young white wine and stops the first mouthful from stripping your palate.

Jambon persillé

Ham set in parsley jelly, served cold in a thick slice. Traditionally an Easter dish, now on the menu all year.

It looks alarming and tastes clean and sharp. Drink Aligoté with it, which is what the region does.

Œufs en meurette

Poached eggs in a red wine sauce with bacon, mushrooms and small onions, on fried bread. The sauce is a red wine reduction, so the dish is dark purple and entirely unphotogenic.

It is the best thing on most Burgundy menus. A village red — Savigny, Marsannay — is the right partner.

Bœuf bourguignon

Beef braised slowly in red wine, with the same garnish of bacon, mushroom and onion. Charolais cattle graze an hour west of the vineyards, which is why the dish exists here.

Any restaurant serving it in under three hours of cooking is not serving it properly. Good versions are almost black and fall apart under a spoon.

Époisses

A washed-rind cow’s milk cheese from the village of the same name, matured with marc de Bourgogne. It is pungent to the point of comedy and sold in a small wooden box for good reason.

Eat it with a spoon when it is properly ripe. Drink white with it, not red — the tannin and the ammonia fight.

Mustard

Dijon mustard is a preparation method, not a protected origin: it can legally be made anywhere. Very little of the seed is grown in Burgundy now, though some producers have brought local cultivation back and say so on the jar.

Look for moutarde de Bourgogne, which is protected and does require local seed and local wine.

Where to eat it

The formula that works: a village restaurant with a handwritten menu of four starters and four mains, full of people speaking French at lunchtime. Lunch is the serious meal. Book for one o’clock, not eight.