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.

Le République may be one of the most beautiful restaurants in Marseille. A historic space that once housed Café Parisen (from 1905, with its boulodrome for games of pétanque on the lower floor), it has been elegantly renovated and was reopened at the beginning of 2022 as a restaurant gastronomique solidaire—a gourmet “solidarity restaurant” and unique community project that embraces both guests and workers. But, without reading about it, diners would never guess this. Instead, they would take a table in the luminous space (1200 square meters!) with minimalist aesthetics, lofty ceilings, cornices, and great, dried flower-and-leaf chandeliers. There, they would discover Michelin-star chef Sébastien Richard and his team’s delightful creations, refined and simple, kindly served. Unknowingly, these guests participate directly in Le République social project.

Regain is housed behind the marigold shutter doors of one of Marseille’s trois fenêtres (meaning “three windows,” the city’s typical brownstone). From the street, one can spy the full tables of the shady urban garden far on the other side. It is hard to believe that this Rue Saint-Pierre restaurant opened just six months ago, given its current hot-spot status among Marseille gourmands. From the unusual descriptions of chef Sarah Chougnet-Studel’s creations, it’s hard to imagine what the taste and experience of any dish will be. But Regain’s many repeat diners trust in Sarah’s intriguing French-Asian amalgams: order anything on the menu and it will prove to be both intriguing and delicious.

“Those who don’t know Etienne, don’t know Marseille,” insists a French weekly in a piece about the cult pizzeria. They were raving about both place, Chez Etienne, and person, the enigmatic Etienne Cassaro, who transformed the worker’s canteen his Sicilian dad opened in 1943 into a local institution that endures today. Though Etienne’s light went out in 2017, his son, Pascal, continues to carry the family torch – alongside a long-standing staff who have been there for decades. Aptly located in the equally mythical Le Panier quartier, Chez Etienne is home-style cooking served in a homey setting. Inside a convivial room divided by stone archways, the tables are packed with regulars, tourists and politicians from nearby city hall (including Mayor Gaudin) who tuck their ties in their shirt to keep them from getting splattered with pizza grease.

Mention “Les Baumettes” to a Marseillais and many immediately think of the prison that shares the name. Since the 1940s, this peripheral neighborhood has housed the city’s biggest penitentiary, where Marseille’s most notorious gangsters and French Connection collaborators did time. The prison is also infamous for France’s last execution by guillotine – shockingly recent, in 1977. For hikers and rock-climbers, on the other hand, Les Baumettes (whose name means “little grotto” in Occitan) is a gateway to the limestone fjords in the Calanques National Park. For Marseillais in the know, that entrance hides a unique place that is at once an eatery, escape and a voyage back in time.

Since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, the value of shopping local has grown more and more apparent, especially in France. The country that coined the term hypermarché (big-box store) has returned to its roots. As of January 2021, 75% of consumers put “regional products” at the top of their shopping priority list, according to a report by France 3 news. Another study by AlixPartners confirmed that “friendliness is the foundation for retailers.” Serving up these two artifacts revived form another era is a new épicerie in the heart of Marseille. Fernand et Lily combines regional goods and old-fashioned conviviality. Owner Julien Baudoin has passionately and personally selected each of the shop’s products – including Marseille-made microbrews, Provençal nougat and raw cow’s milk cheese from the Hautes-Alpes.

Walking inside the bright Café (R)égal, the familiar ingredients of a sustainable restaurant can be seen. Here, a chalkboard lists the local farmers from which foodstuffs are sourced. Each table is topped with cloth napkins instead of disposable paper. A poster on the wall shows the happy chickens that benefit from the kitchen’s compost. All these elements minimize Café (R)égal’s impact on the environment. What makes them unique, is how this conscientious café is also making an impact on people’s lives. Café (R)égal is a restaurant d’insertion, meaning it offers work training to people with disabilities. These apprenticeships provide a much-needed springboard into the workforce and something even more essential: a place where folks of all backgrounds are on the same footing.

For all its culinary riches, Marseille is not a mecca of cheese. France’s famous fromage regions are found where the cows roam – like Normandy and the Auvergne. Marseille’s warm weather doesn’t quite whet one’s appetite for filling cheese, nor is it well-suited for the cooler temperatures that cheese-making requires. The biggest claim to Marseille cheese fame is the region’s lone AOC, the ultra-fresh chèvre, Brousse du Rove. Now, a new urban dairy is adding to that reputation. Located a few blocks up from the Vieux-Port, the Laiterie Marseillaise brings the craft of cheesemaking into the heart of France’s second-largest city. Normally, a fromagerie (cheese shop) buys its wares from a fromager (cheese maker.) Here, they are one in the same.

In France, the poissoneries (fish markets) are often decorated in a palette of blue to evoke the sea while boucheries and charcuteries are blood red. Rouge, the color of meat, pops up on tile walls, around deli counters and on awnings above shop windows so that customers can spot their meat purveyors from afar. That was the case at Maison Payany, an artisan charcutier in Marseille’s 6th arrondissement, until its new owner gave it a fresh coat of pink. Marie Caffarel took over Maison Payany in the spring of 2019. Despite the unorthodox paint job, in many ways she has upheld the traditions of this neighborhood institution, which prior to her arrival had been run by three generations of Payany men since 1932.

Editor’s note: Here at Culinary Backstreets, we eagerly await the coming of spring each year, not just for the nicer weather but also because some of our favorite foods and dishes are at their best – or indeed, are only available – for a short period during this season. This post from Marseille is the first installment of “Spring (Food) Break 2021,” a weeklong celebration of our favorite springtime eats. In France, cheese is served as a main course in the winter. We melt raclette over potatoes and dunk hunks of baguette into oozy baked Mont D’Or, the warm, alpine cheeses keeping us toasty on cold nights. But once the temperature starts to rise, and we shed our winter layers, our hunger for these hearty cheeses wanes. We crave something tangier. Something brighter and lighter. We want brousse du Rove.

With Marseille restaurants shuttered in the Covid era, many have transitioned to offering more takeout-friendly fare: namely, sandwiches. The hip bistro Cedrat’s 15-euro “hot fish” features a house-made fish sausage, poutargue (dried red mullet eggs) and seaweed. Michelin-starred fine-dining chef Alexandre Mazzia cures his own pastrami for a decadent, €21 croque-monsieur. Yet while high-end hoagies make fine once-in-a-while treats, we remain loyal to the old-school sandwich stand Chez Fanny. Located a few blocks up the hill from the Vieux-Port, this corner stand serves up fantastic sandwiches at phenomenal prices. The menu includes classics (think merguez-frites) and signature sammies that make the most of the region’s bounty.

In Marcel Pagnol’s iconic 1930s Marseille trilogy, dockworkers sip pastis at Bar de la Marine, a Vieux-Port bar that still stands today. Later in the century, pastis is as prominent a character as its star, Detective Fabio Montale, in Jean-Claude Izzo’s 90s Marseille noir crime novels. The city’s quintessential quaff is as popular as ever in present day Marseille. At lunchtime and apéro hour, locals clink glasses filled with the opaque green elixir on sun-soaked terraces. A group of tracksuit-clad fans shares a bottle of Ricard on the Velodrome steps before an OM game. “It is a drink meant for sharing,” says Guillaume Strebler of local Distellerie de la Plaine.

Though France shares a border with Belgium and sits across the English Channel from the UK, the country doesn’t have as big a beer culture as its neighbors. The French consume less than half of the European average of seventy liters per person. The trends have been shifting over the past few years, however, spurned by the deluge of microbrews in the United States and elsewhere. From 246 microbrasseries in 2016, France now has a whopping 1653 since the start of 2020. Marseille’s first microbrasserie, La Plaine, set sail in 2013 (the industrial La Cagole – whose bottles sport the city’s clichéd bimbo – doesn’t count). La Minotte followed in 2015. Then, in April 2018, we got our first bona fide brewpub: Zoumaï.

With the heat wave pushing the thermometer past the 90s, Marseillais are hitting the city’s beaches and cafés, where they cool off with limonade (sparkling lemonade), citron pressé (a glass of fresh-squeezed lemon in which you add water to your liking) or citronnade. The latter is lemonade in French, but in Marseille, it often means the bracing, whole-lemon beverage sipped across the Maghreb. Normally, we go to Chez Yassine for our citronnade. When the snack bar was closed for Eid al-Adha (the “Festival of Sacrifice,” one of Islam’s two main festivals), we ended up at Saf-Saf, another Tunisian spot down the street. It was listed on the menu as fait maison (homemade) citronnade, so we were surprised when the waiter brought over a sleek bottle.

If you ask a Marseillais where to cavort on the coast, most will respond, without hesitation, “the Calanques”: turquoise coves tucked between towering limestone cliffs that can only be reached by foot, boat or paddle. Spanning Marseille and Cassis, this national park gets all the glory – and tourist campaigns – for its jaw-dropping grandeur. But, north of the city, you’ll find more intimate calanques that also merit a visit: the Côte Bleue. Unlike the barely inhabited Calanques National Park, the “Blue Coast” is dotted with fishing villages anchored in blue coves, each one appearing to have been carved into the limestone hills. Some of the secluded ports are connected by hiking trails that weave between beach pines and the Mediterranean.