For a dish that was once an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink invention of fishermen’s wives, bouillabaisse has come a long way — if you venture to Marseille, its birthplace, to find the best you’re more likely to be trolling the city’s Michelin-starred eateries than any waterfront shacks.

After reading two New York Times articles praising L’Epuisette (one by R.W. Apple), I knew it was where I wanted to go on our day trip from Provence. As we drove into the city, the weather was brisk and bright, and everything looked beautiful to me: the cranes and freighters in the enormous harbor (industrial chic!), the classical buildings of the Vieux Port, the people with African and Arab skin tones … even an audaciously giant, colorful Coke ad.

We parked on the Corniche du President John Fitzgerald Kennedy (that must be a mouthful for the locals), across the water from the island Chateau d’If, featured in “The Count of Monte Cristo,” by Alexandre Dumas (the elder), novelist and grand gourmet. The location was a double thrill for my dad, who as a boy had relished Dumas’ adventures as well as the fact that the 19th century Frenchman was a writer of color (his grandmother was a former slave in Haiti).

The restaurant sits on the water, on a rocky outcrop below the level of the road. Fishing boats bob in the cove beside it — according to the articles I’d read, one or two belong to the restaurant itself, ensuring a fresh catch. Despite the rustic, unassuming exterior, inside it’s all clean modern elegance and exquisite courtesy. As the hostess led the way through the white-clothed tables with smartly clad diners (French business types, it seemed), my heart beat fast as we approached a corner table with windows on both sides, facing the chateau. I could hardly believe it when she indicated that it was ours. I selfishly claimed one of the seats facing the view of the rippling blue water, so I guess it served me right that the hard, bright sunlight started giving me a headache after 20 minutes.

I had read good things about the restaurant’s other dishes, but since we all wanted to try the bouillabaisse, that’s what we all got. We tried ordering some starters for diversity, but our waiter advised against it. Of course he would benefit if we went ahead and ordered them, he said with a Gallic shrug and a charming smile, but it would really be too much food. Because although bouillabaisse is more than the sum of its parts, it is very much about the appreciation of each of its parts.

First, the broth, thick as gruel — but a hot, flavorful gruel. Instead of the ethereal quality that I expect in fish dishes, this was an earthy soup that pulled no punches. Woven among the flavors of the sea was something hauntingly familiar that made me suspect a touch of curry powder, but as I quizzed our waiter, it turned out to be paprika. (I guess that would explain the burnt orange color too.) The broth is traditionally served with pieces of toast that you slather with rouille (we got aioli as well, in top photo) and set afloat in the soup so they soften and meld with it.

Then, out comes the fish:

plus more broth:

The fish was perfectly cooked, of course, although my mother complained the bouillabaisse wasn’t hot enough. But she’s Korean and isn’t satisfied unless her soup comes to the table still bubbling — in which case the fish would have definitely been overdone.

The desserts we ordered were good, but I preferred the petite glasses of chocolate mousse and macarons that they threw in at the end for free.

Unfortunately, our lovely afternoon had an ugly ending, as we returned to the car:

Note to the French government: Those bright red license plates you have for rental cars are not a good idea.

L’Epuisette
Vallon des Auffes
13007 MARSEILLE
Tél : 04 91 52 17 82
Fax : 04 91 59 18 80