My whole existence craves to sit at some fancy table, fancily dressed, to enjoy fancy dishes -- for which I wouldn't mind breaking my carefully stashed piggy bank.

But the question is where to go.

That pizzeria on the bleak highway? That murky Chinese luncheonette? Or that French country-cuisine place?

After giving it some thought, I end up staying home and wait for my wild fit to be cleansed by the abstemious country air.

A harsh reality of village life is that there aren't many possibilities to eat out.

I know only too well that this land I find myself in contains a veritable gold mine of excellent restaurants.

But my fate is to contemplate fine chefs' haute cuisine only on the TV screen -- with my mouth wide open.

So, although I wanted to talk about nice French restaurants in this column, sorry, with my resources I can't go far.

But it's of no importance, as I know that people in Japan are much better informed than me anyway, thanks to sometimes overly meticulous TV programs and magazines. When it comes to French cooking and restaurants, even my second brother, who runs a little restaurant in Akita Prefecture and has traveled in Europe only once, beats me hands down.

Beside, I'm a bit too slack to usher others to nifty dining tables. To prove it, I've never made a restaurant list (like certain people do) nor headed first to some trendy cafe.

Even in a big city like Paris, guiding friends from Japan to a restaurant was a sweaty task. Once I was blessed by the arrival of one friend who knew an awful lot about Parisian restaurants -- from the special dishes, the names of chefs, former chefs and tutors of chefs to the exact street numbers -- even though it was her first visit to France. She was Jeanne d'Arc to me.

But as an exception, at the end of this first year of my stories, I'd like to present a certain restaurant that even renowned Japanese gourmets might not know about. In France it's one of the big names that everybody has heard of, even if they've had the good fortune never to have eaten there.

The famous Restos du Coeur (literally meaning Restaurants of the Heart) have about 2,000 outreaches all over France and 20 years' tradition.

Their specialty: anti-poverty campaigning.

Restos du Coeur were founded in the mid-'80s by a comedian named Coluche with the aim of distributing 2,000 to 3,000 meals daily to people of meager means.

Since then, the Restos have continued giving their full support to society. Today they distribute gratis colis alimentaires (food packages) to about 650,000 people, whose monthly income is less than about 425 euros ($570).

The package is meant to help disadvantaged families make full and well-balanced meals at home. For babies and their often single mothers, there are Restos Bebes du Coeur, too.

I often curse the dearth of restaurants in my village -- but it has a Restos center that receives about 130 families in the neighborhood from December through March. Sometimes voluntary workers stand at supermarkets, asking shoppers for small food contributions, as the humanitarian association depends on donations.

In contrast to my inclination toward fancy places, in the cold season my heart warms to the sight of a camion du coeur (a Restos' mobile food stall) distributing hot soup and meals in the streets -- much more than it does at the thought of some glitzy French chateau restaurant in Japan.

I'd welcome any comments or opinions, in Japanese or English, about my column. You can write or fax me at The Weekly, or e-mail me at jtweekly@japantimes.co.jp

The Japan Times Weekly: March 19, 2005
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