Eating your way to the altar: a food and wine guide to marrying in Lyon

Why the menu comes first here

Most destinations sell a view. Lyon sells a meal. Chefs here talk about stock and butter with the seriousness other cities reserve for architecture, and guests who arrive expecting a pleasant dinner usually leave describing it course by course. That is why we often start planning a Lyon wedding with the menu and build everything else around it.

The city sits at a crossroads of great larders. Bresse lies to the north east, Charolais cattle graze to the north west, the Alps send down lake fish and mountain cheese, and the Rhône valley supplies fruit, olives and some of the best Syrah in the world. A caterer here does not have to import anything to impress.

It also changes how a guest list experiences the day. In a beach destination, people drift between the sea and the bar. In Lyon, they sit down together, pass bread, argue happily about which wine is better, and the meal itself becomes the shared memory. Planning with that in mind shapes the timings, the seating plan and even the choice of venue.

Starting with the cocktail hour

Lyonnais aperitifs are generous and informal. Think of warm gougères, slices of rosette sausage, little pots of cervelle de canut (a fresh cheese whipped with shallots and chives, despite the alarming name meaning silk worker's brain) and pike quenelles served in miniature with a spoon of Nantua sauce.

For drinks, a Crémant de Bourgogne or a Bugey Cerdon, a lightly sparkling pink wine from the foothills of the Jura, keeps the mood bright without exhausting anyone before dinner. A station shucking oysters is a little extravagant but always popular, and a chilled Beaujolais blanc pairs well with them.

Keep the aperitif to around ninety minutes. Lyonnais hosts like to feed people properly before dinner, but a cocktail hour that drags on dulls appetites for the main event. Six or seven bites per guest, served by roaming waiters rather than at a buffet, keeps everyone moving between the terrace and the photographer without anyone going hungry.

The main course question

If one dish says Lyon, it is volaille de Bresse, the blue footed chicken with its own appellation. Roasted whole and carved at the table, or poached with morels and cream, it feels festive without being fussy. Beef from the Charolais is the alternative for couples who want red meat, and an Alpine féra or char is a delicate option for a lighter summer menu.

Ask your caterer about serving family style for at least one course. Platters passed down long tables encourage conversation, and they suit the convivial spirit of the bouchon better than plated dishes sent out in silence.

Vegetarian guests need not feel like an afterthought. Spring brings white asparagus from the Drôme and morels from the hills, summer delivers Rhône valley tomatoes and peaches, and autumn has pumpkins, chestnuts and wild mushrooms. A good Lyon chef will treat a meat free plate with exactly the same care as the chicken.

Wines worth pouring

Beaujolais has shaken off its reputation for young, sweetish nouveau. The ten crus, from Fleurie to Morgon and Moulin-à-Vent, make serious, perfumed reds that work beautifully with poultry and are kind to a budget. A sommelier can serve them lightly chilled on a warm evening.

For a grander bottle, look south to Côte-Rôtie and Condrieu, both barely forty minutes away. A magnum of Côte-Rôtie with the main course feels like a celebration in itself. Keep a Saint-Joseph or Crozes-Hermitage in reserve for the larger tables; they share the same peppery Syrah character at a gentler price.

Rather than one wine per course, consider a small flight at each table so guests can compare two crus side by side. It gives the more curious drinkers something to discuss and costs very little extra. A local sommelier can also lead a short tasting during the cocktail hour, which works well for guests who have travelled from beer drinking countries.

Cheese, dessert and the cake

Do not skip the cheese. Saint-Marcellin, soft and runny, arrives in its little terracotta dish, and the Halles Paul Bocuse are home to some of the best affineurs in France. A board with Comté, Beaufort and a blue from Bresse makes a wonderful course before dessert.

Instead of a tiered cake, many Lyon couples choose a croquembouche or a tower of tarte aux pralines, the bright pink tart made with sugar coated almonds. Bugnes, light fried pastry dusted with sugar, are a cheerful late night snack when the dancing slows down.

Bookending the weekend

A welcome dinner in a traditional bouchon sets the tone. Choose one with a private room, book a set menu of salade lyonnaise, andouillette for the brave and île flottante, and let the wine flow in the classic pot, a thick bottomed glass bottle holding 46 centilitres.

The morning after, take guests to the Halles for coffee, oysters and pastries, or host a brunch on a péniche moored on the Saône. Both are easy on sore heads and give people one last taste of the city before trains and flights.

Families with children appreciate a gentler alternative. A picnic in the Parc de la Tête d'Or, with its rose garden, lake and free zoo, keeps little ones entertained while adults linger over cold rosé, saucisson and fresh baguettes collected that morning from a neighbourhood boulangerie.

Practical notes from the kitchen

Good caterers book up a year ahead for September, so secure yours early. Ask about dietary needs at the start: Lyonnais cooking leans heavily on butter, pork and offal, but the best kitchens now produce refined vegetarian menus built on the same market produce.

Finally, allow time. A proper Lyon dinner runs three hours or more, and that is part of the pleasure. Plan speeches between courses, keep the dance floor for later, and let the table be where the evening happens.