The time has come to leave the Dordogne after a lovely holiday, and head back to the UK.
We have certainly dined well during our stay, as should be clear from my last few posts. My favourite meal in France remains a very simple one, however – a summer spread of cheese, paté, hams and salad that we have enjoyed outside in the sun most evenings, as shown in my photos above and below.
We’ve enjoyed baguettes from the local boulangerie, baked fresh and collected every morning, and best eaten the same day. They have a crisp exterior, and soft, buttery textured inner that carries a real taste.
A visit to the fromagerie is always fun, as there are so many French cheeses to try. We’ve usually opted for a cheeseboard comprising a soft, a hard and a blue: in the one below the soft is a Vieux Pané, the hard cheese a Tomme de Montagne, and the blue a Basque Bleue.
Paté de fois gras goes well spread on a hunk of baguette, and local cured hams from the charcuterie have been tastily paired with chunks of ripe, golden melon from that marché in Bergerac.
Enjoyed with a glass of Bergerac Rouge, of course. While watching the sun set.
Time to say au revoir.
I’ve downloaded my listening for the journey back from Bergerac Airport. I’ve chosen a 2023 digital remaster of New Order’s Substance album, which is sounding even greater than ever. Here’s a track to show what I mean: Confusion ’87.
Of all the pastries we have enjoyed on our current holiday in France (and there have been a few 🙂 ), the one consistently rated the highest in our party has been the Baba au Rhum, or Rum Baba.
This eastern European delicacy was reinvented in Paris in the early 19th Century. The story goes that a cake that had become a little dry was enlivened by a little soaking in some rum.
Since then patisseries all over France have never looked back. Fast forward 200 years and this is the scene in our local boulangerie here in the Dordogne. Amidst a range of to-die-for pastries sits a line of Baba au Rhum.
As you can see, the Baba is served with its own pipette already inserted into the cake. The pipette is filled with rum, which is injected into the sponge before eating, by carefully squeezing the pipette with one’s fingers. It makes a dessert that is light, moist and boozy, topped off with a swirl of whipped cream. Mmm!
The Rum Baba has had some stiff competition from the patisseries we have frequented this week, see below.
Or maybe check out this selection..
Every one a piece of culinary artwork that it is very difficult to fault. In such company, it is saying a lot that the Baba au Rhum has been rated so highly by our group.
Formidable!
I can’t say whether the cake inspired LCD Soundsystem to record this track, but it’s a song I really like, so here it is: New Body Rhumba.
On holiday in France, and keen to experience some top regional cuisine, we book a table for 4 at Melange, a restaurant in our nearest village, Saussignac.
Like many rural villages we have seen in the Dordogne, it is small and sleepy. There is a lovely old church, a war memorial dressed for the D-Day commemorations, and a cobbled square. There is little traffic and few people to be seen out.
That changes, though, when the churchbells chime to say that midi – 12 noon – has struck, and this charming old building opens its doors.
Soon cars were arriving and all the tables on the terrace were filling up. Aren’t I glad that we booked!
Our 3 course menu du jour was delicious, and beautifully presented. The restaurant’s chef clearly has an artistic streak, judging by the stylish way the dressings and sauces are swept around the plate to get the mouth watering. Well, this country has quite some pedigree when it comes to art: Cezanne, Matisse, and Monet to name a few. Why shouldn’t that extend to culinary creation?
For my Entree, I chose the cod and yuzu croquette, which was served with baby gem lettuce and a sweetcorn and avocado salsa. That is red pepper aioli you can see in the photo below, swept across the dish in broad brush strokes, with carefully positioned blobs of yuzu dressing.
Yuzu is something I hadn’t come across before, and I do not even recall seeing it in any of our shops. Of Asian origin, and now grown in France, it is a citrus fruit that is kind of a cross between a lemon and a mandarin orange. It’s a natural for pairing with the fish in the croquette, therefore.
My Plat, or main course, was a fillet of sardine, served with rocket pesto, roasted cherry tomato, and chive and lemon gremolata. The fennel came en deux facons: firstly as a roasted bulb, and secondly as a puree that looks like it has been extravagantly combed across the plate with traditional Gallic flourish – see below.
The gremolata I hadn’t come across before, and I will definitely have a go at making this back in the ADK Kitchen. It is a garnish comprising seasonal European ingredients all minutely chopped: red onion, garlic, chives, citrus zest and herbs, blended with olive oil.
Dessert, shown below, was Tarte a l’abricot – apricot on a biscuit crumb base – with olive caramel wafers and a scoop of yoghurt ice cream.
The apricot had a real zing, and the yoghurt slightly less sweet than more traditional ice cream. The olive caramel wafers are made from pureed black olives and sugar, giving a sweet yet slightly bitter taste that I think goes well in a fruity sweet.
I rounded things off with a cappuccino that was served with a Canelé de Bordeaux, a small caramel pastry that is traditional in this region of France.
A thoroughly enjoyable couple of hours with great food, much inspiration for future cooking, and the company of family and friends. The price was reasonable also – my 3 course menu du jour was €24 (£20 or $25), which I considered fair value.
A glimpse into the unrushed life of a quiet village in the Dordogne that enjoys its food. As Dublin’s B*Witched put it, C’est La Vie !
One of the great joys of being a foodie on holiday in France is making a visit to the local market, or ‘marché’. So, while here in the Dordogne Valley, we set out for the local town of Bergerac on market day. Some of the fresh produce we bought inspired our evening meal back at the farmhouse. More of that in a moment.
It was a beautiful warm and sunny morning as we arrived. The market was already well under way, this array of soft fruit was glinting in the sun, and business was brisk.
The market isn’t just about stocking up with provisions for the week, however – there’s a real sense of market day being an opportunity for local people and traders to meet and catch up. In between happily chatting with customers, this chap sold us a bag of his healthy crop of radishes. Simply washed, topped and tailed, they made a light, peppery and crunchy snack alongside cold beers.
A long queue of discerning French shoppers waiting patiently to buy their food is usually a reliable sign of a good market stall. So it was with this charcuterie stand, where beef carpaccio was the ready prepared Plat du Jour. The charcuterie included local merguez sausages, which are long and thin with the texture of chorizo, and which went well later on our barbecue.
All the fruit and veg was seasonal, fresh and presented attractively. The range of tomatoes was something else, and they all looked luscious in the mid-morning sunshine.
Garlic is a staple in French cooking, and I treated myself to one of these wonderful looking purple bulbs to take home. Presentation-wise, I liked the juxtaposition of vivid colours alongside these wedges of butternut squash.
And so to that evening meal. I hadn’t come across white asparagus before, being more used to the green variety we have in the shops in the UK. It is popular in central Europe however, so I decided to try some.
It is essentially the same plant, but is grown underground, which stops it turning green. It has a slightly more intense taste, and requires a little more prep by peeling from the end of the spear tip to the base of the stalk. Like all asparagus, the woody bit at the base needs trimming off also.
I steamed the spears for 20 mins, then wrapped them in local prosciutto, and warmed them on a plate in the oven for 10 mins. They were then served with a knob of melting butter, a squeeze of fresh lemon and a few twists of black pepper.
The dish was enjoyed by our group, with a glass of chilled Bergerac Blanc on our terrace in the evening sun.
Voilà!
Time for some more French-inspired rock. This is The Stranglers with Goodbye Toulouse.
This week I am off on my travels again. We are holidaying with our very good friends in the Dordogne Valley in south-west France. Expect to be hearing over the next few posts, therefore, about some of the lovely food and drink that this region has to offer.
The base for our stay is a delightful, restored stone farmhouse in the countryside, just west of Bergerac. Built in the 19th century, it retains all its character and, I am pleased to say, now has some 21st century luxuries (like wifi, ensuites and a dishwasher) incorporated.
Discovering that we are situated along the Route des Vins, we set out to find our bearings on a tour that takes in one vineyard after another. The climate and soil conditions here are near-perfect for growing grape vines, making the Dordogne Valley one of France’s prolific wine-producing regions.
To learn a little more, we stop at one of the major vineyards along the route for a tour and some wine tasting. Chateau de Monbazillac is a microcosm of modern French history – a splendid, ornate chateau and estate that flourished in the 16th Century, before being brought down to earth by the revolting local peasants in the revolution of 1789. After some period of flux, it eventually found its feet again, being taken over by a wine producers’ co-operative that now markets its wine collectively under the Monbazillac name.
The Chateau is beautifully restored and maintained, with exhibitions on modern wine production, and glorious views out across the Dordogne Valley towards the town of Bergerac, taking in row after row of vines.
The choice of wines for our tasting took in a Bergerac blanc, a rosé, a fresh and fruity red and a deep red with the scent of oak barrels and a hint of saline on the throat. After some deliberation, our group opted to buy a bottle each of the two reds.
I can assure you these are being fully savoured on our terrace in the evening with a few platters of cheese, ham, pate and locally baked bread (I will go into further details in coming posts about that cheeseboard 🙂 )
After a relatively wet spring here, the weather is warming up, and we are looking forward to a relaxing few days of good food and wine with sunshine. Check back this weekend for a further report.
In the meantime, I shall leave you with a track that has a distinct French connection via the bassist, Jean Jacques Burnel. Here are The Stranglers with La Folie.
A Different Kitchen 