A new restaurant discovery in Carcassonne

    Back sometime in December. Rainy, slate-grey skies, bitingly cold...why would I take my camera on a day-trip toCarcassonne when the plans were just to have lunch, shop and drop a friend off at the airport?
    We did squeeze in some browsing later that afternoon, trawling Sephora and Monoprix and dismayed to find that Maisons du Monde had closed. (Not that I ever seriously wanted a chest-of-drawers emblazoned with Marilyn Monroe but it was nice to know where to find one if I did.)
    Lunch first. The Carcassonne you think of when you hear the name is the ancient walled Cité. It may be riddled with tourists most of the time, but it's surprisingly full of decent, affordable places to eat. Unless you're in the market for plastic swords and helmets, you're better off shopping in the lower town, sometimes called the "new" town because it only dates back to the 13th century.
    Place Carnot is its centre. A square that's just the right convivial size, it was currently being made ready for Christmas festivities with chalets and an ice rink.

    Fake icicles hung around the fountain in the middle (this shot was obviously taken earlier in the year).
    At some time or another, we've eaten our way through most of the cafés and restaurants around it but this was our first venture into Le Saint Roch. What sucked us in was the menu posted outside.
    It was a chilly day so we were ready for the full three courses. My entrée was a miniature paella pan--about the size of a tea-plate--holding an egg "Catalan style" on a base of cooked tomato, peppers and onion. Two orders of gesiers salad, prepared a little differently "very, very tasty," (I'm transcribing as he speaks). Samosa filled with spice-inflected tuna (and that side salad) were described as "the best samosas in France." Not sure if that's damning with faint praise though for someone who just arrived from Asia.
     On to the mains. I'm obsessed with seiches at the moment. Two fat ones, perfectly cooked a la plancha, came with roasted potatoes and a scoop of sweet potato purée. Those who had ordered the steak and duck confit got the same veg. A commendable pear-and-chocolate crumble to finish with rather too much whipped cream drizzled with chocolate sauce at its side.
     Three course lunch menu, 14.50 euros. Details: Restaurant Le Saint Roch, 15 place Carnot, Carcassonne, 04-68-71-62-43
  

Another restaurant find in Foix,

     The Pyrenees glistened as though their peaks and slopes had been dipped in sugar, and a herd of cows ambled in leisurely fashion ahead of us on the main road as a friend and I headed for Foix in search of mince-pies. The quest was---dreadful pun alert--dried-fruitless (they won't be around for another ten days). Never mind. We did have time for a stationery trawl at Majuscule. Better still, we came on another discovery for the restaurant list, this one focussing on tapas. 

     Even though we're within an olive's throw of the Spanish border, surprisingly few tapas bars have set up shop locally. La Bodequita (25, rue des Marchands) only opened a couple of months ago. What caught our eye initially was the table outside set with a cheery yellow-and-white gingham cloth, with a crate of kakis--bright orange persimmons--set on it, free for the taking.

    

     

    Inside, a large blackboard spelled out so many choices that I envied the party sitting under it who could order with abandon.

      Albondigas, little cod cakes, escalivada-- Catalan grilled vegetables--I wanted the lot. Can you make out the prices? Apart from push-the-boat-out prawns à la plancha at 8.50, most hover around the 4 euro mark....

     While we debated, the server brought us a plate of pan con tomate on the house. Simple as anything, it's foundation is bread rubbed with garlic and tomato.

    Any time I can get my hands on patatas bravas...These were blisteringly hot, with a spicy kick to their sauce.

    Calamar rings almost as big as bracelets, the batter light, the dish straight from the fryer. Our server was surprised we could only handle two tapas between us--most people order four, she said. I will too, next time because everything that was being carted out to neighbouring tables looked awfully good.
  

     So did the plats du jour: salmon with mustard and fried potatoes, and a lasagne of pumpkin and blue cheese with a salad, 8.50 euros including a glass of wine and a coffee.
    Nice people, nice atmosphere. I can't remember the hours it's open--most lunchtimes and some evenings--but here's the phone number if you're in the 'hood and want to call and find out: 05-61-01-83-65.

Two New Restaurants in Mirepoix

    Apart from vide greniers, there's not much to do in the way of shopping in our part of France on Sundays. Granted, you can pick up your crusty bread, tarte au citron, roast chicken or newspaper--and even a handful of supermarkets throw open their doors--but, soon after noon, everything shuts tight. Simple reason. Sunday lunch is one of the, if not the, most important meal of the week. Boulangerie and patisserie queues are common, everyone departing with baguettes under their arm or swinging a small square tarte-holding box from the hand. The butcher is usually sold out of rotisserie chicken by noon. Then, silence falls as families gather at maman or grandmaman's house and everyone sits down around the table.

     Last Sunday, we thought we'd go out to lunch. Not a full-on three courses because temperatures have been in the mid to high thirties all this week. All we wanted was something light in the shade of a parasol at one of the new-ish restaurants we wanted to try in Mirepoix. 

         

 Vegetarian Indian food. We didn't eat here as, coincidentally, we'd had a curry dinner just a couple of nights previously. What we did have, which was utterly delicious, was chilled ginger-and-lemon juice.

La Niña is the only place I know that serves duck fajitas!

The yellow-ish cast to these food photos comes from the parasol.  Excellent pizzas here with a crust as thin as a supermodel. Tomatoes, aubergines, asparagus, peppers and just enough cheese. Delish.

     

    

                            
     One of the salades composées on the menu. This one was loaded with chunks of Roquefort and walnuts. Too hot for wine so we drank eau de robinet (tap water).

Two favourite restaurants in one day.

   At the beginning, a fortnight in Paris sounded like a lavish amount of time. Now, as we get ready to take the train south, we think it's not enough.
   Not that it was a "tick off the boxes" sort of thing, but we woke up yesterday to realize that, shock horror, we hadn't yet been to two of the restaurants we always eat at.
   I only took a few photos at both (and most of them were really bad for whatever reason--er, maybe the red wine) but I've posted about them before if you're curious. First, we had lunch at Le Reminet on the left bank, just across the Seine from the rear end of Notre Dame, up a little side street. Their three-course menu has crept up to...all of 14.50 euros since we were here in June. It's got to be one of the biggest bargains in Paris.

    Three courses, two choices in each. We both picked lentils with marinated salmon to start. The salmon is cru--raw--and its rich, fleshy texture works well with the mineral notes in the lentils, the sharpness of the vinaigrette and the pungency of the salad greens. A keeper. Peter had braised lamb with white beans to follow. I went for the daurade (bream), a good-sized fillet, perfectly cooked with a little timbale of buttery carrots and courgettes on the side. Cheese to finish, or fromage blanc with fruits rouges--black currants, blackberries and raspberries (should have been "fruits noirs").
    All sneaking looks at each other in the gilt-framed mirrors, Parisians crammed the tiny room, making the most of their two-hour lunch "hour," all of us having a marvellous time as we watched the umbrella-bearing less fortunate race by outside. When we left, the rain had stopped so we walked and walked, to start to build up the appetite we'd need for dinner.
    Robert et Louise is another one that's always on the list.

You go there for the steak, a great raw primal bloody hunk pulled out of the cooler just across from your table, flung on to the grill over the open wood fire and served, in my case, saignant. With it comes roasted potatoes and salad. With it you drink red wine. A bottle of Chateau Lastours Gaillac this time (and the last time we were there). Got seats at the communal table too!

Dinner at BAM

    Set down a tiny side street between Rue de Rivoli and the Seine, BAM stands for "bar à manger"-- "a bar that you eat at" would be the literal translation, although this is about as far from "bar" food as you can get. Dinner here a couple of nights back was one of the most intriguing and imaginative meals we've had in Paris at this price level. BAM can definitely hold its head up and boast that it's a "proper" restaurant. http://www.bar-a-manger.fr

    Diners can't. Hold their heads up, I mean. We turned down the offer of the table right under the bar (where those two chaps are sitting), climbed the narrow, steep, spiral stairs to the mezzanine and found ourselves a better table. To call the ceiling "low"....let's just say that anyone approaching six feet has to assume a Quasimodo-like crouch to avoid smashing their head.
   The service was super-friendly but scattered. Our two menus somehow ended up as a shared entrée and plat (but separate desserts!!)  with the rectagonal platters positioned so we could each start at one end and meet in the middle. We didn't leave hungry either.

   

    "Cube de queue de boeuf confite, pissenlit, carottes croquantes, vinaigrette carotte," it says on the menu. You could cut those cubes of confited oxtail with a fork and the Jackson Pollock-esque splashes of carrot vinaigrette had just the right kick. Another entrée I'd like to play around with at home is the soupe glacée de petits pois à la menthe, sorbet pamplemousse rose, mikado à la coppa. Fresh peas, mint, grapefruit and something bacon-y? Sounds okay by me.

   "Magret de canard au piment d’espelette, aubergines rôties à l’ail & basilic, oignons rouges confits au porto"
   We eat so much duck at home that I rarely order it when we're outside the deep south. But this dish sounded startlingly different--in a good way. I couldn't really taste the espelette pepper on the grilled duck but there was enough going on on anyway in hte flavour department. Halved eggplants roasted so long that they'd collapsed on themselves, glorious red onions sweet from their bath of port and the surprise of a basil leaf of garnish. Might try this one at home too.

    Dessert porn. Think of the traditional banoffee pie. Now destructure it and arrange all the elements separately.

  Roasted figs, cream, etc. etc. A half-litre of a sturdy Rioja. Coffees. Out, smiling, into the night.

Dinner at the Chateau.

    Our wedding anniversary a few weeks ago was a June day as gloriously sunny as it was the day we were married. A fine excuse to go out to dinner.
    The Abbaye-Chateau in Camon is only about 10 minutes away but, although we'd met the owners (and I'd written a story about them) we'd never eaten there. Now was as good a time as any to do it. 
    Camon is a storybook village, set in a green bowl of countryside and ancient beyond belief with some of its original stone walls still intact., quite literally "one of the most beautiful villages in France."
     You can read all about the Abbaye-Chateau at  http://www.chateaudecamon.com

The stunning entrance hall is tiled in every shade of russet, rust and tawny brown.

    Dinner is un menu--no decisions, and personally, I love it when I have to do is sit there and be brought plate after plate of delicious things.
     We began with drinks on the terrace, a special cocktail. Guess the mystery ingredient and the drink's on the house, owner Peter Lawton told us. I did actually guess it but then thought "nah..."
     Into the main courtyard for dinner where tables were set up on the edge of a lawn. Somewhere buried in the clutter on my desk is the menu....aaah, found it.

The first course--a light but substantial salad of quail, peeled white grapes and walnuts.

Gazpacho and a croute spread with tapenade.

I wanted to show you the table which manages, like the abbey itself, to be a comfortable blend of casual and formal. Isn't that simple wreath of ivy round the candle holder an effective idea?

Filet de rascasse, salicorne et sauce poivron rouge. I could easily have eaten two of these. I forgot to photograph the next course: lamb, with creamed spinach, ratte potatoes, and a caper and shallot sauce. Chef Tom Sleigh works with what he finds locally and in season. His style is unfussy (it's that same mix of casual and formal). He simply picks the best ingredients he can and lets them do the talking. 

Three desserts. A tarte au citron, pear poached in red wine and pear ice cream. 

Time to go home.

Oh well, at least I can read about them on-line...

   Reading Restaurant magazine's just-released list of the World's 50 Best Restaurants  at www.theworlds50best.com /, I'm happy to see that three of the top ten are considerably less than a day's drive away.

   At Number Two: El Celler de Can Roca is under three hours down the road in Girona.  Swiped from their web site, this shot is part of the visual history of the cuisine. Xai amb pa amb tomaquet translates as "lamb with tomato bread,"  a variation on a rustic Catalan dish of toasted bread, tomatoes, garlic, salt and olive oil. It's eaten at breakfast and as a snack but I've never ever seen it look this elegant. www.cellercanroca.com
   Number Three on the "best" list, Mugaritz http://www.mugaritz.com/ is near San Sebastien. Very modern Basque cuisine with lots of reviews on-line. Also near San Sebastien is Arzak which holds the Number Eight position. http://www.arzak.info 
   Even less than a day after the news came out, I probably don't have a hope of making a reservation at any one of them any time in the next six months.

Steak frites and gésiers.

   Not together I should add. Beef and duck gizzards really don't seem happy partners. The steak I ate at a little bistro in hte Marais called Robert et Louise (which mon mari insists on referring to as "Thelma and Louise"). We reserved, as you should, because this place is hugely popular. I think they do two sittings, one at 7 p.m. and the one we were given at 9 p.m.

    The welcome and the room are both cosy, thanks to the owner who "tutoyer"s everyone in sight, and who seated us at a communal table with a couple of Australians, three gorgeous-looking French guys and three Sicilians,. As well as a strong sense of bonhomie, the room also glows from the blazing log fire at the end of the restaurant. I had steak--saignant, Peter had lamb chops, served on round, much-used wooden boards (like bread boards. Both came with a huge bowl of roasted potatoes, crunchy outside, soft inside, and a big bowl of glistening salad. A bottle of red, bread, conversation, what more do you need?
     http://robertetlouise.com/ is where to go for a look at the menu and wine list. By the way, if you're wondering why some prices are crossed out and reduced, that's because, some time ago, the French government reduced the TVA from 19.6 to 5.5 percent for restaurants. That way, restaurateurs could either afford to hire more staff, or to reduce menu prices, and thereby attract customers. Good idea or what?

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    A couple of days later, we went back to Le Reminet, the restaurant we'd had such good meals at back in the summer. Again, we reserved. Oddly, because this place is literally a hop, skip and a jump from Notre Dame (but hidden on a side street), it's not overrun by out-of-towners but seems to be a favourite spot for Parisiens who know a deal when they see it (the weekday three-course lunchtime menu is 14 euros).
   I liked my starter a lot. A whole tomato, hollowed out, cooked till warm and soft but not squashy, stuffed with confited gésiers, magret (duck breast) and mushrooms. Peter had a sardine terrine, which I tasted and liked because it wasn't too "fishy" and had a definite peppery backnote. Both came with salads of small, perfectly formed greens. Mains were salmon for me, and a beef daube for 'im. Dessert was a standout: financiers (little, very obviously freshly-baked cakes) topped with a chocolate mousse so rich it was like eating a chocolate truffle.

   No food pix but a couple of shots to show you where Le Reminet is in relation to Notre Dame (the chalkboards are the common element).

A Tale of Two Taxes

   The recession has hit the entire western world. One result of everyone watching their cents, pennies and euros more carefully has been a serious impact on the restaurant industry. Gordon Ramsay must be swearing even more than usual at what's happened to his empire. 

   Here's how two countries are handling the situation.

   July 1, 2009. the French government slashed the TVA--taxe sur la valeur ajoutée--for bars and restaurants to encourage us to eat out just as much, or more, than we're doing now and to create jobs for chefs, waiters and all the other folks in the industry. Formerly 19.6 percent, the tax has been slashed to 5.5 percent. A sign I spotted outside a bistro in Mirepoix on Monday spells out the effect this has on your wallet. Not a vast amount, granted, but arguably enough to swing the decision from "let's go home and make a salad" to "why don't we stay here and have lunch."

  Meanwhile, back in our former home, British Columbia, Canada, the government just announced a new "harmonized sales tax" (actually that "h" stands for "higher") that either means diners will pay more or already hard-hit restaurants will earn less. The new tax takes effect1 July, 2010,  exactly one year after the French one came into effect. What delicious irony. 

Paris--Day 7: A Memorable Lunch

Guy Savoy is one of France's best-known chefs. Three stars and all that. The tasting menu at his eponymous restaurant was well beyond our budget but we did get a taste of the freshness and inventiveness of his cuisine at Les Bouquinistes, his comparatively bargain bistro. 

   On the left bank, towards the west of Ile de la Cité, it's a sunny, vivid room that, at lunch-time, thrums with action. We were glad we'd reserved when we saw more than a few people turned away. 

   Almost everyone seemed to be going for the menu du marché which changes daily with a couple of choices for each course. We both went for the duck en brochette, grilled, slightly pink in the middle and faultlessly tender. With it came a salad that I suspect more than one person there will attempt to copy at home. Haricots verts with thin slivers of poached fresh apricot with a sharp-ish, shallot-dense vinaigrette. 

   We picked the same main too: a slice of grilled salmon trout speared on a length of lemongrass and set on a slice of confited potato. Various interesting items around it included halved caperberries.

   Dessert was obscenely good. Peter had a chocolate marquise with coffee ice cream. Mine was a three-parter: a cone of deeply flavoured lavender ice cream garnished with the darkest lavender I've ever seen. Alongside that was a whole poached peach and in a white bowl was a small perfect, and hot, peach soufflé. A glass of wine, plus, as is usual in France, tax and tip, were included in  the 29 euro per person tab. 

A Simple Left Bank Supper

As in any city, a personal recommendation is the best way to find those off-beat places popular with locals that guide books don't always list. Friday night was bitingly cold, the wind really whipping along the quais. When we finally arrived at Le Fourmi Ailée--the winged ant--(which someone we'd met had told us about) it looked enticingly warm, golden and inviting. This former Latin Quarter bookstore still has books as its main decoration. 

The plat du jour, roast chicken with linguine, sounded just the thing for a bitter night--and was--especially with a bottle of sturdy Languedoc wine. I can never resist lemon tarte. This version was new to me, a bed of puréed prunes spread on the pastry before the citric filling went on. A fresh take on a classic with its sweet-sharp flavours.

Recommended. If you're off to Paris any time soon. The address is 6, rue de Fourre. 

France's Oldest Restaurant

At night, we can look out from the window of the apartment and across the Seine to the Tour d'Argent. That's it on the top floor of the building to the left, and it's the oldest restaurant in Paris.

But even though lunch was just within the bounds of financial possiblity, the jacket-and-tie dress code was a bit off-putting. Besides, we've done a great deal of duck already over the past few months and that's the speciality here, albeit squashed in a very posh duck press. The bloody juices squeeze out make the sauce. 

So the nearest we got to the "Tour" was this shot from the apartment and a look at the very glamorous web site.

www.tourdargent.com

Rainy Day Cassoulet in Carcassonne

Wearing warm sweaters, jackets and resolute expressions, we headed for Carcassonne. Normally it's under an hour's drive but today we swerved and braked hard when we came on a vast vide grenier in Montréal. Too chilly to do this one serious justice but we did come away with an impressive pair of fire irons for five euros. 

By the time we had parked the car, crossed the moat, and were in the cité (the famous walled part of Carcassonne), it was lunch time. Too cold to eat under the plane trees unfortunately but just right for a three-course Sunday lunch at La Maison de Blanquette. 

This is an off-shoot of the original "Maison" in Limoux and, as there, it's a strong supporter of the Sieur d'Arques winery. You get a glass of blanquette while you mull over what you're going to eat and a half-bottle of wine per person included in an already reasonable 14 euro tab. Two went for goat's cheese salad, two for toast spread with a garlic-and-anchovy purée. Three cassoulets, two steak frites. Iles flottantes and clafoutis to finish before we rumbled off, warm and fed to roam around the city.

God, it must have been bleak work patrolling those walls except for the rare moments of fun when you threw boiling oil on invaders down the purpose-designed chutes. No guard-rails anywhere so I suspect falling to one's death was only one of the job hazards. That and avoiding the humungous boulders hurled by giant catapults located outside the city walls. 

The carbo-laden lunch meant we only needed a light frittata for supper.