by Paige Donner
When you hear the word Dijon, it’s impossible not to think of the ad jingle, “Pass the Grey Poupon, please.” At least, if you’re about my age and grew up in the U.S.
The mustard campaign promoting Dijon mustard as a luxury item was as culturally pervasive as Marlon Brando’s declaration that, “We will serve no wine before its time.” At least for my generation, my American generation.
So a visit to the namesake city is, well, kind of thrilling. The half-timbered buildings that greet you as you walk from the train station through the town center’s pedestrian/shopping area declare, You’e in Burgundy, now. The wet, gray weather, so conducive to growing the vines for some of the world’s best wines also firmly puts you in your place and leaves little wonder as to why local dishes of escargots, pain d’epices (spice cake but…
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