THE POTATO BABE

Biron: Happy Bastille Day

For the final day with the peeps, we enjoyed a cooking lesson and lunch at Le Bruceliere in Issigeac. The chef has gained attention because he’s pioneered a newer, lighter way of cooking with a focus on seafood and fresh local produce instead of the traditional duck, foie gras and cassoulet of the region (which are delicious – but they don’t yell light summer fare). At the beginning he was met with resistance, but it’s obvious that his talent has silenced the critics. After the way we’ve been eating for two months, I think we all appreciate a lighter meal. (Before each meal we say we’ll never eat again, but predictably we renew our memberships in the clean plate club…)

He welcomed us into his tiny kitchen as he began to prepare our lunch. The first course was fromage blanc with whipped herring, quail eggs and smoked squid ink, and it was paired with a local rosé. (We’ve found local rosés on each of our stops – I wonder how long they’ll take to catch on in the U.S.?) That was followed by a layered cabbage and smoked salmon with a lobster beurre blanc – which none of us had any problem finishing easily. Chef Nicholas paired it with a local white wine that sells out 10 months before its available – so we were thrilled to get three bottles of it (and showed our respect by drinking it dry). Next was a turbot filet in a veal reduction with anise star and foamed wasabi potatoes – which again didn’t go ignored either. We finished with roasted gingered pineapple with vanilla ice cream – it was the first time fruit has ever tasted (deliciously) sinful.

Halfway through the meal, Evan wondered aloud if it’s still illegal to marry food (was that ever actually a law, or was that the rosé talking?) “It would be an interesting honeymoon, at least,” he declared as he accidentally finished my wine.

Tonight was the traditional Bastille Day fete in the square adjacent to Chateau Biron. They set up large grills and cooking stations and we dined at three long tables that probably sat about 150 people each. Last year, they’d carved a pig and it wasn’t until it came off the grill that they realized no one knew how to carve it. Laura saved the day, rolled up her sleeves and emerged as a town heroine. Everyone remembered her and wouldn’t let her pay for this year’s meal, which fortunately for her they were able to prepare on their own. The meal was served by locals who brought out loaves of bread in laundry baskets and wine in unmarked bottles. After dinner there was a spectacular fireworks show set off from behind the chateau, and they were so close they practically exploded right over our heads. It was unlike any small-town fireworks show I’ve ever seen – but then again, this isn’t like any small town I’ve ever seen.


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