A dinner in Médoc begins with the journey of two friends, a priest and a civil servant, heading to Médoc where a lavish meal is to be held in their honor. In Bérénice de Lignac's little paradise, the feast quickly spiced up by candid exchanges, resonates with the long monologues of the royalist ultramontane abbot Champion, the sharp-witted republican François Richier, and the visionary restaurateur Antoine Trouche. A southern pharmacist accompanied by a gloomy-looking notary assistant keeps score. The ladies observe, and Jérôme, the husband, is bored. None of the characters are entirely real or completely imaginary. If these people did not exist, everything suggests that others have worn their finery. September 1849. It's the end of the grape harvest in Médoc. A storm is looming. It's as if all of France had momentarily loosened its collar to better consult itself and diagnose itself because, ultimately, in Médoc as in the entire nation and throughout Europe, at the turn of the century, it is high time to reconsider happiness.