Tales from the table: Dordogne, France

Kimberley Lovato gets a taste for the Dordogne (spiced by the recipes of chef Laura Schmalhorst). 

Dreams are often born in the most unsuspecting places. Mine happened to be delivered by the postman. The postcard that arrived in 1993 depicted the most beautiful village I had ever seen. The picturesque village was enveloped in fog and huddled against a cliff at the edge of the Dordogne River with a dilapidated boat tied to its shore. On the back of the card, in small black print, were the words "La Roque-Gageac, Dordogne." I knew then I would find this place one day, and even maybe write about it.

 

With books, maps, magnifying glass, and a positive attitude, Chef Laura, my co-author, have scoured the region from top to bottom, inside out. Along our aimless path we discovered a land of unspoiled beauty that has spoiled us rotten. Nothing can replicate the awe of seeing Chateau de Beynac, a 500-year-old fortress, looming over the Dordogne River for the first time. Every nook and cranny of the Dordogne revealed diverse landscapes and regional history. We passed scene after scene of farmlands with vast fields of corn, sunflowers, and trees dripping with cherries, walnuts, and plums; mountains and rolling hills; dense forests and open meadows; storybook villages and immense châteaux.

 

Our camera was put into overdrive, but our pictures could never quite capture the essence of what we saw. How do you photograph the footsteps of prehistoric man, the grottoes and the cliff-side caves where traces of humanity date back 500,000 years? The fortified towns called bastides intrigued us and as did other medieval villages, like Sarlat, which rest preserved in time. The more than 1,000 castles of the region range from Renaissance opulence to feudal fortresses built during eras ravaged by war, of which there have been many in the Dordogne. Even the smallest hamlets revealed memorials to those who gave their lives during past conflicts.

 

While we easily succumbed to the fairy-tale scenery, we soon realized it was merely a two-dimensional facade without the personalities behind the ancient doors. After years of frequenting the same hotels, restaurants, farms, shops, and daily markets, we slowly got to know the families, and we were invited into their homes and kitchens, and decided to sit down at their tables, the heart of the home in France. And this is where our story, our book, really evolved.

 

A lot happens in the kitchens of France. “Major decisions and pinnacle moments all occurred around the stove,” one local chef recalls of his family life. And one of the biggest honors you can receive in France is an invitation to share a meal with someone. The table, the kitchen, is the hearth and heart of family life. Sitting down at the table with these bon vivants, tasting their food and understanding their history is the soul of the book.

 

The Dordogne is world famous for its cuisine, thanks to truffles and foie gras, and traditional cooking is the best glimpse into a culture and culinary history steeped, quite literally, in duck fat. We ate potatoes, cèpes (porcini mushrooms), and omelettes all cooked in this magic elixir, which is a staple in the Périgord pantry. We spent an afternoon with an amazing Daniele Mazet-Delpeuch who was once the personal chef of ex French president Francois Mitterrand, and whose roots are deeply seeded the Périgord and traditional cooking methods. Watching her prepare duck confit in her grandmother’s ancient pots over an open fire in her living room taught us more about the region’s culinary patrimony than any of the books we had read. And an afternoon spent with a local ice cream maker, Roland Manouvrier, revealed an astonishing magic that brews inside the kitchens and imaginations of the Dordogne. We left Roland’s place, convinced he was an alchemist with his ability to conjure up ice cream and sorbet that had flavors and texture never before tasted in all our years of eating. His tomato-basil sorbet, goat cheese ice cream, and other flavors pulled from the Périgord’s prolific bounty astonished us.

 

Among the dozens of people we met, there was a common thread among them—passion. And Reine Roches, the matriarch of five generations of family working side by side on their ancestral winery Domaine du Haut Perchermant, is the epitome of passion. Her story of personal loss and triumph over a male dominated industry is an inspiration that transcends culture and age, and her pintade (guinea fowl) stuffed with grapes is a recipe we will try to replicate for years to come at our own tables.

 

We quickly discovered that dining is the glue of social life in the Dordogne, and as we bounced (or perhaps rolled) from table to table, we imagined the decades of decisions, arguments, trysts, and revelations that transpired behind these doors.

 

An afternoon of homemade walnut cake and walnut liquor with Virginie Bouyou lead to an historic tour of her family home, and the private suite of famed French actress Marguerite Moreno, Virginie’s aunt. The walls were covered in memorabilia, paintings and old photographs of her famous family and friends, like well-known writer Collette. We could almost here the victrola’s tinny cry and smell the stale cigarette smoke when Virginie described the parties that took place here.

 

Once at the table we found the people of the Dordogne delightful and eager to share their stories, and if you look closely, food tells you a lot about life in these small rural villages. Like language, food is culturally significant in France. Days are planned around meals, shops are closed from noon to 2 p.m. for lunch, and expressions related to food are pervasive in colloquial chatter. Perhaps the one that resonated the most was “Vous avez du pain sur la planche,” meaning, "You have your work cut out for you." Yes we do!

 

Surprising to us was the amount of seafood and nouvelle cuisine making its way onto menus. Fish and eel pulled from the Dordogne River and scallops from the seaside were unexpected additions to many of the menus. One chef really making splash is Nicolas De Visch at his restaurant in Issigeac, a small medieval market town known for its weekly food market. Nicolas, once the seafood chef at the elaborate Burj Al Arab Hotel in Dubai, now wows locals with his, quel horreur, no duck menu! His terrace in the summer is the hottest table in town, and it is clear from the waiting list that tourists and locals alike are welcoming the new style cuisine emerging in the region.

 

 

Tales From The Table: Dordogne Stories invites you to pull up a chair and join us on our edible journey down roads less traveled and into the homes and hearts of some remarkable people. Through our journey and their stories, the best of the Dordogne will reveal itself to be more than just a glossy picture on the front of a postcard, but also a living and breathing tapestry woven with the thread of tradition and the colorful dye of eclectic people.

 

By the way, we found the image on the postcard that tempted us all those years ago. We were driving along the D703 when suddenly there it was in black and white, a sign that read La Roque-Gageac. Right before us the fairy-tale village was real, and there was even a worn rowboat slapping against the shore. After all these years, our own postcard has become creased and yellowed with age, yet the image before us was untouched by time. We knew then we had found a very special place.