On a business trip to Marseilles I was introduced to the authentic seafood dish

The place to sample authentic bouillabaisse is Marseilles. I accompanied my husband and his French colleague to the reportedly best restaurant for it - Chez Michel.

Brigitte Bardot had already been, many years before, judging by the large photograph of her, in all her youthful glory, with a much younger Michel (the menu proclaimed  in English "three generations of Michael at your service").

At first glance I was rather disappointed in the décor. Reminiscent of an East End pie-mash parlour, it was marble surfaces all the way, not a damask tablecloth in sight. On the largest and dampest of these slabs lay the vast collection of creatures to be consumed. Some seemed to be  feebly flapping. Averting my eyes, I noted that we three were evidently expected to make great in-roads into all this sea food. The place was empty. But - hey - it was only seven thirty, foolishly early for dinner by French standards. Three waiters were assigned to us and the PERFORMANCE began ...

No-one had thought to warn me of the ceremony involved in bouillabaissery. For a start I had to make complicated choices. First, with or without lobster? Greedily deciding in favour I then had to approve of the poor creature produced from a basket and held expertly by  Michel (Papa), his (the lobster's) massive claws snappng open and shut ineffectually, his tail curling and uncurling.

Next we were shown a selection of unfamiliar fish,  dead this time but not long dead, their eyes still bright and reproachful, their rainbow scales flashing in the harsh, uncompromising light of a serious restaurant where the food must bear close scrutiny.

The protein having been whipped away, the  choice of wine accepted without so much as a shudder from the sommelier even though we had decided on red, and unchilled at that, we had to choose our amuse-gueles. Just a few prawns, we muttered amongst ourselves, to leave lots of room for the Main Event. I had not reckoned on the fact  seafood in Marseilles is upgraded in every category so that the crevettes here looked like crayfish anywhere else - and there were a half dozen each to get through whilst we sipped our apéritifs.

But to move on quickly to Act Two. A couple of plates were slid in front of each of us. I had not realised that the "soup" would arrive in a separate tureen. Once more our chosen fish were thrust under our noses on a large platter, not shiny now but still attractively striped, spotted and variagated. The waiter then snatched back the platter and demonstrated his particular skill on a side table, decapitating and filleting at top speed but with such neatness that not a morsel of succulent flesh was wasted. Enjoyying the fact that I was a "first-timer" , he elaborately explained the Method: into my soup bowl he ladled pinky-orange stock and three tiny crispy croutons; he provided me with two small pots of thick sauce - the famous rouille to spread on the half-soaked croutons - the aioli to dot on each selected morsel of fish from my other plate, to be then "dunked" in the soup before eating. The tureen was kept piping hot on a table heater and our bowls replenished from time to time by these, the most attentive of serveurs. Each fish had its own subtle flavour and I am ashamed to say I could not do justice to my portion of the feast ... too late, having disposed of it, claw-meat and all, I realised that the lobster was de trop.

I'm a Fish'n chips fan myself - the mushy peas garnish more than anything so, though I would not have missed this experience and cannot praise too highly the tastes, the textures, the presentation - this much acclaimed bouillabaisse business has remained a one-off. But if you should ever find yourself on the C^ote d'Azur, do go to Michel's Place but ask your h^otel to book for you - it had filled to the point of turning away tear-stained would be customers by the time we reached Act Three - Dessert - a vodka drenched sorbet to compensate for the beluga caviare  had reluctantly decided to forego at the Entre-act.

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