Jeanne & The Taste of the Ephemeral: A Sunday in Antibes

Some places feel welcoming even before you enter. Their energy matches yours, and their history seems to connect with your own story. Jeanne, tucked away in the narrow alleys of Antibes, is one of those places. Elsa and Marine Gauthier opened this unique natural wine bistro on the French Riviera, and it immediately caught my attention.

Maybe it was because my fellow Greek, the famous author Nikos Kazantzakis, once lived here and wrote his autobiography here. Or maybe it was because I know the real meaning of Antibes: Antipolis, the ancient Greek city that stood across from the shore.

The idea was simple: a Pop-Up dinner. Companions assembled for a one-of-a-kind Sunday. There was no plan or pressure, just a wish to share a meal. It all came together naturally and sincerely, as the best moments do.

For me, this felt natural. Every summer in Samos, I do the same at my home’s Kitchen Lab. I take a break from making recipes and menus for my restaurants to welcome curious strangers. We meet, taste the flavours of Samos, and by the end, we feel like family, brought together by food and genuine feelings.

Carrots

The Market Run: A Treasure Hunt

That morning, instead of heading to the kitchen, we meandered among the stalls of local producers. In Provence, visiting the market is a tradition. You don’t bring a shopping list—you let your senses guide you.

We let the ingredients lead the way. Pumpkins freshly pulled from the soil, carrots full of sweetness, eggs from chickens that see the sun. The only "luggage" I carried from Greece was the white truffles from Pavlina ("Troufaplus")—I had just caught her before she packaged them for the Italian market, the best Bottarga in the world from my dear friend Trikalinos, and, of course, my wines. I brought the Amphora and Vulcanus to share the taste of the Samos Muscat juice, as well as the Fokiano and Augustus, a small, aromatic piece of my homeland, tucked in our pockets, ready to wed the French terroir.

The Ancient Stove: Cooking with Memory

When we got back to Jeanne, we faced a challenge. There were no modern tools or an electric kitchen—just an old cast-iron stove.

Cooking with fire indoors feels almost magical. Time appears to decelerate. Instead of setting a thermostat, you listen to the wood crackle and pay attention to the heat. During those hours, the kitchen was full of smoky smells, roasted vegetables, and smiles. The best part was being together and making something for people you care about.

The Feast: A Menu of the Moment

The dishes arrived at the table, unpretentious, as befits a bistro that honours the raw material.

• BeetBeetroots, Trikalinos botarga, and almonds brought earth and sea together. The beetroots were roasted in the embers, served with Greek Trikalinos botarga and crunchy almonds. The mix of sweet and salty flavours called for a bold wine. We paired it with Fokiano, aged three years in the barrel, whose complex, earthy taste matched the roasted roots. Eggs / Pastourma / Olives / Spinach A memory of Eastern mornings. Soft-boiled eggs, the intensity of pastourma, and the richness of Kalamata olives. Comfort food, but with character. The Pairing: Amphora. Produced from Muscat à Petits Grains with 30 days of skin contact, using only the free-run juice. The tannins of the clay pot cut through the richness of the egg yolk.

• The main dish was chicken, pumpkin, and white truffle. The free-range chicken was served with pumpkin so soft it melted in your mouth, topped with white truffle to balance the sweetness and add earthy depth. We paired it with Vulcanus, a blend aged in both barrel and amphora for 7 days. Its strong character matched the bold flavour of the truffle.

• Chocolate ganache with olive oil was our simple but mysterious dessert. When both ingredients are top quality, nothing more is needed. We paired it with Augustus, a rare Avgoustiatis wine made by carbonic maceration. Its fresh red fruit flavours refreshed the palate.

The Taste that Remains

People often ask, "what is the taste of the ephemeral?" It tastes like that Sunday—a meal made, enjoyed, and gone, leaving only sweet recollections and a few red wine stains on the tablecloth.

This is, in the end, the essence of gastronomy, and in the end, this is what gastronomy—and life—is all about. Use what’s in season, cook with what you have, and share it with people who make everything better. At Jeanne, we discovered a feeling of family. That recipe works anywhere, from Antibes to Samos.