Friday night, July 10

Above left is a photo of the Abbaye de Cadouin (Cadouin Abbey) taken from the restaurant we ate at, described below. The photo on the right is of the restaurant; P and Martin are at the table in front, with P pouring wine. As I mentioned, I'm having difficulties inserting photos...

I had mentioned the Cadouin night market, and Martin said he didn’t want to go to a market. Until I told him what a night market is: it’s NOT a usual market with all sorts of food and clothes, etc. to buy; you EAT at a night market. As far as I know, it’s unique to this part of France. And then he decided it sounded like a good idea; he could get crepes. I could get oysters and/or Moules Frites. Local wines. Phil could get foie gras. There was a hitch, though. I thought the Cadouin night markets happen every Friday night in the summertime once they begin them, usually late in June. And I’d seen a sign a week and a half ago about one last Friday night. So, we went to the night market. Except it wasn’t happening. It was by this time after 8:00 p.m., and we decided to eat in one of the three places in Cadouin. I chose the nicest one, where we’d been before a couple of years ago. It’s called Restaurant de l’Abbaye or something like that, and is right across from the old abbey. The other two restaurants were selling things like a slice of pizza with a fried egg on top. That’s the terrace of the restaurant up there, with P at the front table pouring wine, across from Martin. From P’s side of the table (mine, too) you had a good if not complete view of the abbey.

This turned out to be a good idea. We had a bottle of house Bergerac red (8 euros/bottle); they brought a lovely COLD large pitcher of water without being asked. Martin and I chose the cheapest menu (14 euros, four courses), and P chose the one with foie gras for one course and sole for the main (28 euros or thereabouts, also four courses). Every meal began with “potage”, which was the local garlic soup—water, garlic, lots of it, sautéed in duck or goose fat gently, some bread, salt and pepper of course, a bit of flour, cooked awhile and then with egg white (and sometimes yolk) added. Martin looked at it, and turned his nose up; I allowed as how he WAS going to TRY IT. He ate the whole bowl, and sopped up what was left with bread.

For the first course, Martin and I both had the duck terrine served with green salad with walnuts. The duck terrine was great, had pieces of foie gras in it. We both finished it all. I suggested that it would make great sandwiches (it would, on French bread sliced horizontally and smeared with Dijon mustard). Martin disagreed, but what does he know… Phil had the foie gras, which was served warm sprinkled with sea salt and served with toast. As it always does, it was great.

For the next course, Martin and I both had veal breast stuffed with Serrano ham (rather like Prosciutto, is that how you spell it?). It was rolled, though, and the ham was ground up with some other stuff. I think it was leeks along with who knows what else. Martin didn’t think it was leeks. But the veal breast was clearly spread very thickly with this ham stuff, rolled up, tied, and braised. In what, I don’t know. I’d guess white Bergerac (Bergerac Sec) and veal or chicken broth. Then sliced. Served with some gravy, some great peeled, sliced and fried potatoes, and a custard thing with zucchini in it.

The potatoes over here are WONDERFUL.

Phil had the sole, which was rolled up, cooked (I suspect steamed), and covered with a wonderful sauce that was full of mushrooms. Served with white rice (typical) and the zucchini custard stuff.

The menu had clearly said “Fromage ou dessert”, e.g., cheese or dessert. I’d said I wanted cheese, so they brought me this tray of cheeses to choose from. I picked three, but by then I was stuffed so I had to get some help, even though it wasn’t much cheese. But then when they came around asking about dessert, they offered me some, too. I couldn’t resist when they said they had sorbet cassis (black currant sorbet, it’s mostly just frozen blended black currants and sugar). Martin had crème brule, and P had tarte aux poires, which is a tart with pears. It was served on a cherry sauce, and was more like a clafouti than my idea of a tart. It didn’t really have a crust; the bottom was a thick thing that was a cross between crust, cake and custard, and was it good. Had a pear half on top baked with it.

While the meal wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, it was way up there for the price.

We still haven’t decided what to do tomorrow, besides wait for the appliance repairman come (supposedly at 11:00) to fix the washing machine (turns off at strange times) and maybe the oven (which won’t start at all…).

One of the things Martin brought me, among the bills, is a very nasty invoice/note from the Tresorie de Lalinde. Evidently I haven’t paid a water bill or something like that. I’m not sure I ever RECEIVED a water bill. I will try to deal with it on Monday…

Have I mentioned that I am losing the battle with the cobwebs? Martin is going to help me clean the fridge, which badly needs it. He’s going to take everything out; I’ll clean it; and then WE will put things back in. The problem is that I have to sort of stand on my head to do it.

I’m glad I’m back in France; too bad I have to go to England next week.

Lillie