RECOMMENDED RESTAURANTS IN THE LANGUEDOC: A PERSONAL GUIDE

   

     French diners value fresh ingredients, careful preparation, and putting aside sufficient time to enjoy a meal. As a result, you have to work hard to find a bad meal. We've never been disappointed, not even that time we wound up in a cheap little cafe in a backwater train station. But we reserve those restaurants listed below as our favorites. 

     1.  Hotel Residence, Nissan-lez-Enserune: Chef/Owner Philippe SANS is just one heckuva cook. The new dining room doesn't have the country/funky ambiance of the original but that's Bernadette for you, always looking to decorate. And yes, it's a bit more pricey than when they were building an audience. But it's about the food, isn't it. The website pictures a chef other than Philippe. We'll investigate.

     2.    Le Patio, Nissan-lez-Enserune: Also owned by the SANS', a delightful little place, less expensive than the Hotel Residence, to take lunch or dinner with friends. Fresh ingredients, well-prepared and thoughtfully presented. In good weather, dine on the patio.

     3. Le Provence , Capestang: Another of those local joints with a charming patio. The menu includes an earthy seafood soup for the brave, lots of appetizers and entrees to choose from, and personal pizzas from a wood-fired oven (try the one with foies-gras).

     4.    Le Terminus, between the towns of Cruzy and Quarante: This is a recent find, recommended to us by our Brit friend Miles. New young owners have turned this former train station out in the country into a perfect spot to enjoy a couple of hours in the sun sampling authentic country cooking. The 12 euro luncheon special of two years ago is now 16 euros. So it goes.

     5.    Le Mewen, Narbonne: A couple of blocks from Les Halles, Narbonne’s comprehensive and fascinating covered market, Le Mewen is an old-fashioned creperie without frills serving both sweet and savory concoctions. Try the apple cider instead of wine. If you'd rather eat in Les Halles, you can't beat the tapas bar.

     6.    L'Auberge de la Croisade, on the Canal du Midi, between Quarante and Ouveillan: This upscale restaurant is our special place along with the Hotel Residence. Your host Bruno is multi-lingual, full of energetic hospitality, and the food is to die for. There are those who say that the menu has grown a bit lazy, but we don’t visit often enough to notice.

     7.    Hotel Jalabert, Ouveillan: This place is definitely NOT for everyone. A funky old restaurant in a backwater hotel with exactly zero ambience, the feisty old Madame will serve what she wants, when she wants. Service is family style. Madame has a heart of gold, though, even if she’s missing most of her teeth; she’ll take the time to cut the meat into bite-sized pieces for the ancient villagers who have been her customers since the year the cow had a two-headed calf. We love it. You’re likely to think I’m crazy.

EDIT:

Abbaye Sylva Plana: Cute tapas place attached to a winery on the outskirts of Laurens. Modern décor. Good food. Reasonable prices for the quality except for the wine. (Restaurant wine in bottles is always too expensive when perfectly acceptable wine is sold in supermarkets for 3 Euros or so. Rant over.) Cathey had the tapas menu, choice of three – a mini Mason jar with a seafood soup that was pure New Orleans crawfishy, marinated mushrooms, and peppers stuffed with the best bacalao that Cathey has ever tasted. I had a superb duck breast and finished with a nasty chocolate lava cake with whipped cream. Worth another visit.

Auberge de St.Martin: Fine dining on a tree-shaded patio or in a formal dining room in Beaufort outside of Olonzac. We were treated for lunch by Simon and Julia along with their Australian friends from Capestang. Beautiful setting. Comprehensive menu. Most of the party chose the Menu Terroir at 23 Euros – choice of sardines or soup, trout or lamb, and a hefty variety of interesting desserts. Cathey chose the Menu du Jour, sardines to start, prepared differently than ours, followed by artichokes stuffed with foie gras. All started with a tiny sip of fish soup for an amusee. All prepared and presented impeccably. Much of the cooking done on an open fire fueled by the wood of grape vines. A destination restaurant to which we'll return.

QUARANTE VILLAGE PARK WITH PICS

Our little village of Quarante has a small grocery store - the kind that's called a Mom and Pop operation in the States. Mom's always there. I've never seen Pop. Whenever we drive out of Quarante to head for one of the surrounding towns with  more comprehensive shopping opportunities, an ATM (Quarante doesn't have one.) or a gas station (Quarante doesn't have one.), we pass a little park. There's a broad lawn - dogs not allowed - and just a few benches. So our curiosity was piqued when, on our way back from our walk to the cemetery recently, we came upon a sign that we hadn't seen before pointing the way to a different park on the other side of the village. We decided to explore.

The road to the park led through a lotissement, the French word for a housing development. You see, the French don't choose to bulldoze farmland in order to build houses or commercial centers. Their zoning laws (or the French equivalent thereof) essentially require that new housing be built on ground adjacent to existing villages where the necessary infrastructure can handle the growth. The result is compact growth dotted amid broad swaths of greenspace. Oh, those tricky socialist bleeding hearts.

But still with our American experiences in mind, as we walked up a hill past relatively new houses with relatively new cars parked out front, we imagined that the park to which we were headed was built for the youngsters in the neighborhood replete with playground equipment and, perhaps, a soccer field.

We were wrong.

I'd guess that the village bought or otherwise reserved the hilltop park property some time ago, perhaps decades before the lotissement was built. The pavement ends after the last house. A wide gravel path bordered by iris and other plantings winds up to the crest with two or three widely spaced streetlamps to light the way at night. At the top, a couple of benches look out over the village and adjacent vineyards, quite a view given that the park is on a level with the church and the mairie, always built on high ground in these little villages. And that's that except for what appears to be an informal fire pit for those willing to drag combustibles up the hill for a bonfire. Nothing fancy. Just a spot on high ground to catch a breeze on a hot summer night while you hug your honey.

We're SO happy that we live here.

QUARANTE CEMETERY WITH PICS

Cathey and I had driven past the sign for the cemetery in Quarante on the back way out of town a time or two but we hadn't stopped. The other day, we decided to take a walk and see how it stacked up against the cemetery in Capestang, the first French cemetery that we explored and still a favorite. I wouldn't say that we are true cemetery aficionados. But we've enjoyed walking through several in our little corner of the world and we've never failed to be touched and amazed. We look forward to another tour of our local cemetery on All Souls Day. The plants and flowers brought by faithful family members are a riot of color among the cold granite.

The cemetery  gate is understated, set back from a quiet street.

This monument greets you on the inside. I'll let the rest speak for itself.

SCHOOL CHILDREN AND THE ABBEY IN QUARANTE

Our house in Quarante is on a quiet, pedestrian street. When sitting on our second floor patio (first floor for my European readers), we can hear the doors of our neighbors' houses open and close, their heated 'discussions' with their teenage children, their techno music, and the like. None of it is really offensive. For instance, the techno music that our closest neighbor enjoys only plays for 15 minutes or so in mid afternoon. We can deal with that. And the teenage boy across the alley is basically a good kid who helps his mom water the plants and oil the wooden shutters when he's not off riding motorcycles with his buddies.

So when a gaggle of elementary school children, maybe 8 or 9 years old, came babbling and laughing down our little walkway the other day at about 14:00h (2:00 PM for our American readers), we heard them quite clearly. We thought nothing of it. The school is only a few blocks away. There's a park within walking distance. Whatever the reason, happy kids in the open air is a good thing. Cathey and I smiled at each other and went back to reading our books.

An hour or so later, we decided to take a walk. We've been doing a good bit of walking, both for exercise and to learn the lay of the land in our new home. Without thinking about the kids that had passed by before, we headed in the same direction, towards the Abbaye de Quarante (also known as Eglise Sainte-Mary de Quarante) just a few steps away. As we entered the square that the Abbey dominates, faint vocal music hovered at the edge of our hearing. It seemed to come from the Abbey. We decided to investigate.

I'll probably write about the Abbey in more detail later. Suffice to say that its history dates back over 1,000 years and the name of every abbot is enshrined on a plaque on one of the columns. It's an unpretentious sacred space by European standards, but pleasant and with a certain charm. You can learn more HERE. (Sorry. Website in French.)

As we approached the entrance, our suspicions were confirmed. The school children led by a half-dozen or so teachers were involved in some sort of vocal activity, either rehearsing for a show or simply using the acoustics of the Abbey to enhance their vocal games. One group would sing a note, another would sing the note a third higher. Occasionally, on some signal that we couldn't detect, the group directly in front of the altar would move off and another would take their place. At one point, two of the groups joined in a finger-snapping, jazzy little scat number.

Cathey and I simply stood in the back by the door and smiled. If there's a show coming up, we hope to attend. If not, how neat is it to bring kids into an acoustically interesting space and just let loose? Either way, we spent an enjoyable half hour just hanging out in the church in our new little home town.