We approached our gîte in rural Limousin northeast of Limoges with excitement and cautious anticipation. The large stone farmhouse is part of Gîtes de France, an association that markets its member list and also requires certain standards for these rural vacation homes, which can range from very rustic to surprisingly upscale and also can be selected according to theme, such as eco-tourism. My American friend, who has lived in Rome and has a country home in the nearby Corrèze region southeast of Limoges, chose our location for its convenience to the sights we planned for the week and its unique vacation experience near a tiny rural village. Neither motivation disappointed. Our host, Rashida, greeted us with a nervous frenzy as she was running late on cleaning from the previous guests. It is summer holidays in France and places like this stay full in July and August, especially those that sleep 10 (we were only 3).
Most days, as planned, we were used the farmhouse as a base for daily road trips of up to 200 kilometers each way. Limoges, for example, was 20-30 minutes along the winding rural routes. A similar distance in another direction was a recreational park and camping ground with a huge lake for boating and swimming, which we took advantage of the first night, and later in the week for a concert. On the mornings we ran out of croissants, we drove 10 minutes into the village of La Jonchere-Saint-Maurice to the boulangerie, or bought last-minute staples from the mini-market. We had to drive a little farther to Ambazac for a bank ATM. One day Rashida delivered a foot-long fat zucchini from her garden, green grapes and apples from her yard and even made us a cup of delicious vinaigrette for our cucumber and tomato salads, using up her last dollop of Dijon mustard, which is nowhere to be found in France due to climate change and parched mustard fields. We carefully apportioned it out for four salads. And, the last couple of days we were there, we cooked up our leftovers, drank the rest of the wine, dashed indoors from our table and chairs under the garden arbor for the occasional rain shower, took a long walk along the country road – and most of all, lingered in the spacious country kitchen for our meals, music-making and photo-sharing with the outside world.
The theme of this week seems to be “eating our way through southwest central France” – from Haute-Vienne, Limoges and Corrèze south to Périgord and the Dordogne River Valley. It turns out that we had no difficulty driving two hours to eat as the focal point of our day! After all, in the French tradition, lunch is the big meal, and is meant to be lingered over. My American friend has visited the region for more than 20 years and knows the best spots – La Truffe Noire, a hotel-restaurant in Brive-la-Gaillarde 120 km south in Corrèze, or La Cognette, another hotel-restaurant about 147 km (nearly two hours) north in Issodun. At Truffe Noire, the delicious cold gazpacho soup appetizer seasoned with truffle oil was perhaps the tastiest I’ve ever had, matched by the beautifully presented local fish with a red wine and shallot sauce. Even before we started our meal, the server arrived with the “amuse-bouche” – today, an assortment of pâtés to excite the palate. One of my companions almost leapt from his seat when the chocolate dessert “tower” passed by the table – and soon one was at the center of our table. With its little “hat,” it was so festive, let alone to die for in flavor. At La Cognette, I opted for the “prix fixe” menu, deeply savoring the exquisitely prepared cabaillaud, and, after I sampled three chevres (goat cheeses) from the Loire Valley region for my cheese course and my companions finished their desserts, we were befriended by the outgoing resident interior designer who was dining with his wife at the next table. They seemed to be fascinated by our inquisitive delight in all things French, including our stubborn efforts to navigate in French with the servers. They generously bought us champagne at the end of the meal, then coffee; we gently turned down another round (so we could drive safely back to our gîte)!
By the seventh day, I was ready for a mini-fast. We brought out the pâté de campagne (our country terrine featured rabbit) and foie gras (goose liver pate), the assortment of cow’s milk and sheep’s milk cheeses, and, of course, the baguettes to smear them on. I knew I’ll probably not eat such delicious food for a long, long time and for these few days, guilt-free, I set aside my usual low-fat, low-cholesterol heart-healthy regime.
