Day 3-4: La Bruyere, Approximately

Debbie drools over these gorgeous plates

Day 3

It is our first morning at La Bruyere and we are eager to assemble a breakfast from choice samplings of market goods: foie gras, sticky prune jam, fresh sausages, tartelettes aux pommes from the patisserie, and blushing nectarines. We’re in Issigeac, a tiny medieval village not far from our La Bruyere farmhouse. A procession of bagpipers, fiddlers and drummers all in timely garb make Issigeac an apparition of relict life that parades amidst modern audiences. If staying in a remote, 500 year-old farmhouse- where the only computer, an ancient PC model in three parts, sits uselessly under plastic sheets- is a lesson in living slowly, then a visit to Issigeac is like trial time-travel.

Day 4

Today we go to Duras, another of half a dozen charming French villages surrounding La Bruyere. The market here resembles that of Issigeac. Though it is smaller it offers similar wares of cheerful fruits and artisan crafts. We lunch on the terrace of an alley bistro, nestled behind a vendor of French linens. We loved our salad- a plate of spirited greens, bordered by fat tomatoes, adorned with walnuts and four pieces of chèvre toast, and drizzled by a sweet and creamy dressing. Bewitched by the duck entree and the accordion accompaniment of street musicians, we head home to work up an appetite for our four-course dinner reservation with one-woman kitchen, Madame Montier.

That Night…

The three hour meal unfolds in a way that is uniquely French. Our amuse-bouche (‘mouth-fun’, a bite-size appetizer that traditionally opens a multi-course French meal) is a grouping of six small quiche paired with a kir appertif, a local white Bordeaux embellished with creme de cassis. The first course, foie gras de canard plated aside bright strawberries, peaches and a sweet onion confit is Debbie’s favorite. The foie sits atop fresh bread and it’s piqued with a kernel of sea salt. We love the sassy fennel and cumin flavors, and the sweet Monbazillac sauterne that enhances the savory foie. A delicious duck salad precedes our entree of tender fowl with three sauces aside. Then, a course devoted entirely to cheeses showcases at least a dozen hard and soft rounds- roquefort, tomme des pyrenees, chevre, epoisse, bleu, and a local walnut cheese made by nuns, to name a few. The cheeses are paired with a Bordeaux from Monbazillac, and followed by a digestif- a cognac for Nicole and an Armargnac for Debbie. Throughout, we are encouraged to eat slowly, as the French do. We spend almost three hours swapping bites and stories. Our waiter, Madame’s son, leaves the course-paired wine bottles on our table to enjoy at our pace, and to explore our own pairing tastes. We leave after cake and creme brulée, helplessly plumped and prepared for a long night’s rest.

Tomorrow we head to Sarlot to retrieve a set of fountains bought by friends almost ten years ago…