A Great Meal In The Dordogne, France

European Vin Rouge Aging
Photo (c) Paul Heidelberg

EPILOGUE TO WINE AND SPIRITS WRITING/PHOTOGRAPHY TRIPS TO FRANCE'S CHARENTE AND CHAMPAGNE REGIONS

BY PAUL HEIDELBERG

So, there I was at the Brasserie Cog D'or in Cognac, seated next to a table of obvious celebrants -- a Man From Bordeaux, about 35, was treating his wife and her family (Charente Folks).

I was wearing a long-billed orange cap that could be described as Hemingwayesque, I suppose; for that and other reasons. including my resemblance to the ecrivain, the Man From Bordeaux kept looking at me, screaming (or what was very close to screaming) "You're Hemingway, You're Hemingway."

(I've been told for many years, including by a Swiss woman I was seated next to at the Brasserie Lipp in Paris a few years back, that I also look like the French Poet Paul Verlaine. Verlaine was a great poet, but an evil man, and did such things as beat up his mother, and his young son on separate occasions -- he injured each of them badly enough to serve jail time.)


BORDEAUX MAN II


I encountered The Bordeaux Man On Horseback during a trip to a 6,000 acre hunting camp in France's Dordogne Region. I had been invited to participate in this adventure by another man on horseback -- an owner of a large, privately-held Cognac house.

The two men on horseback rode into forested land that surrounded large meadows where about 20 hunters were waiting with rifles for the deer that might be chased out of the woods.

As I am not an aficionado of blood sports, I was glad that during that day spent in the French wilderness, no deer were taken.

The highlight of the trip were my friend's 20-plus Anglais-Francais hunting dogs -- you know, the brown and white kind of dogs you see used in English fox hunting. Towards the end of the hunt, one of the dogs came up to me and laid next to me in the sun on a hillside, acting as if he were my own dog of many years.

Later members of the hunting party said they were very surprised to see this, as this was the most difficult dog to "round up" at hunt's end -- it was usually the least friendly to humans.

The time spent with that chien is a fond memory.

The trip's cuisine: Vin rouge for breakfast served with large platters of scrambled eggs. After the hunt, apertifs of pastis and water and biere pression in a "hunter's clubhouse room" before we sat at tables in the large room where we had our breakfasts, where we had more red wine and dined on great loaves of fresh-baked bread and fantastique pommes frittes served with huge roasts of wild boar.

Dining In The Champagne Region Two Weeks After The "Queen Mum"/Dining Al Fresco WIth Courvoisier In The Charente

Ah, France!

BY (c) PAUL HEIDELBERG





Two of the great meals of my life are the following. Both are memorable because of setting.

First, during a meal at Moet @ Chandon winery in Epernay that featured white gloved waiters, and very silver serving trays, I was told The "Queen Mum" had dined at the very table two weeks earlier (The "Queen Mum" was the mother of the current Queen of England, the Duke of Cambridge's grandmother.)

I guess I felt quite privileged to be seated where the former Queen of England had been seated a fortnight earlier.

Also, during the meal I was informed that Remy Moet, one of the founders of the great champagne house that has as its prestige cuvee Dom Perignon, was a childhood friend of Napoleon. When Moet wished to host Napoleon for a visit he realized he had no place for the French Emperor to stay.

So he constructed the very high ceilinged building where both the former Queen of England and I had dined.

So with that meal, my most salient memories are not of the cuisine, but of the palace I had dined in, and of those who had dined there before me.

The second experience came in the Charente Region, home of the world's finest spirit, cognac.

The two big towns in the Charente are Jarnac and Cognac, thus the name for the spirit.

My great Al Fresco dining experience came from host Courvoisier, one of the "Big Four" cognac houses, the other three being Hennessy, Martell and Remy Martin.

Courvoisier is headquartered in Jarnac, but my memorable meal came far out in the countryside, near an old distillery building Courvoisier had used for decades.

I remember we started with apertifs of Courvoisier VSOP and ginger ale. During our meal, held under shade trees on a beautiful, sunny June day that felt like a good day in South Florida in January, we had two huge six liter bottles of Bordeaux wines -- one red and one white.

We sat at long tables -- I was the only writer. Just as at the Champagne repast described above, when I dined with a couple from Scotland who owned a restaurant (Moet & Chandon got good PR from me in expansive stories I wrote for newspaper Travel Sections and wine magazines, and I have thought often, that couple is probably still stocking Moet & Chandon as its house champagne).

So, there I was in the Charente, the only "ecrivain" amongst a table of Courvoisier salesmen from Italia.

After living in Italia for a year and a half while serving in the U.S. Air Force, I knew their homeland well. Most lived in Roma, which I had visited about 10 times on 96-hour breaks.

So our entire meal was punctuated with exclamations of "Piper Club, Piper Club."

In its heyday, the Piper Club was one of the best clubs in the world.

The typical band was a 12-piece multi-Saxed R and B group that persons such as Van Morrison would have loved. The band belted out great tunes as patrons danced on glass blocks on the multi-colored dance floor.

After our meal -- I remember the great Bordeaux wines best -- we had cafe, sans au lait, straight, no chaser, and Courvoisier Napoleon cognac.

I will never forget the Napoleon cognac -- I am just thinking this goes with the first part of this story -- and I have bought several bottles since that June day.

I will also never forget the long drive back to Jarnac in that great weather. My host from Courvoisier asked if I would mind if he opened the sunroof. "No problem," I answered.

So, after one of the best lunches of my life, we drove the back roads of the Charente in glorious weather, still with the aftertaste of Courvoisier cognac and fine French cafe on my tongue.

That drive ranks up there with two other drives I have been lucky to have had.

The first was with Michael Andretti in Miami, when he drove the first auto more powerful than a circa 140-horsepower Volkswagon powered Super Vee Race Car.

The car we drove in was a 900-plus horsepower Porsche 935 Turbo. I wrote a story about the ride while working at The Miami Herald. The piece ran as a preview for the inaugural Grand Prix of Miami.

As Andretti accelerated from 60 to about 160 in a matter of seconds, and then braked and downshifted hard for a sharp turn, I thought, "Wow this is why they like to race."

The other memorable drive came after I was the first foreigner to spend the night in an old coal-and-wood fired cognac distillery that dated from the 1700s. A writing/photo package on that experience was published in The Wine News magazine.

(Most cognac alambic stills are now powered by gas, and operated by computers.)

In the morning, the distillery owner drove me back to Cognac in his 1967 V-12 Ferrari.

"Mon Dieu."

But, even though my host from Courvoisier was not driving a Ferrari -- he was behind the wheel of a much less exotic auto -- it was one of the drives of a lifetime.

Talk about a great feeling after a great meal: The memory is enough to make me exclaim, "Piper Club, Piper Club."


Note: Recently, I came across this photograph I shot in Paris -- I think it fits well with today's memories of France. Don't miss the ancient BMW motorcycle in the photo. I visited the boulangerie pictured here several times while staying in a nearby hotel. I remember the place had great French tarts -- the kind related to culinary matters, not the kind known to walk the streets.

Photograph (c) Paul Heidelberg

Bread, cheese, wine and an XO quality (far superior to VSOP) cognac and more; Just the thing for a 7-7-11 Picnic

Ah, Paris!

Photographed (Photo [c] Copright Paul Heidelberg) in the Sixth Arrondissement on Paris' Left Bank.

First Course of a Great Meal: Home-grown lettuce, Greek olives, cheese

A Good Salad, served in a bowl once owned by my grandmother.

Photo (c) copyright Paul Heidelberg

Dining With The Incomparable Gerard Boyer in Reims, France

Springtime In Paris

...at his Boyer Les Crayeres Restaurant, back when he was the chef at this fantastic establishment that sat only 60, and diners from throughout the world came to the biggest town in the Champagne Region to enjoy Meals Of Their Lifetimes.

(This story is re-printed from an earlier Wines By Pablo Post.)



This feast began with Chef Gerard Boyer’s “Salad For My Father,” in French of course. I tell people if you see a wine that is Martha’s Vineyard, Or Pour Mon Mere Edith, it has to be good. No good chef or winemaker/winery owner is going to name a bad product after a loved one.



So, onto that first meal. The night before I had dined at a place that would not be described as shabby – the Royal Hotel and Restaurant in the countryside near Epernay (my room of four nights had sliding glass doors that looked out over about four or five miles of vineyards, mostly owned by Moet & Chandon, that stretched to Epernay). I recently "googled" this place and saw it now costs about $750 per night for that beautiful aforementioned suite.)



So, for that night before, I had a salad with foie gras pieces about the size of one’s thumb. The foie gras, the salad and the rest of the meal was a fine dining experience.



But, the next day at Boyer Les Crayeres (at the time the restaurant sat only about 60 in any season – there were no outdoor tables) my meal began with Gerard’s salad for his father. My first bite was a piece of foie gras about the size of the nail on a little finger.



There was an explosion of taste that is simply indescribable.



Next came a course of fish, followed by a demitasse of ginger tea to “clear the palate.”



(Throughout the three-hour dining experience, my hostess and I enjoyed Pommery Brut Royal: Pommery, which owned the building where the restaurant was located, always had a table on demand, sort of like Frank Sinatra at the 21 Club in Manhattan, or a similar fine establishment; we had Pommery Brut, only, with each course, so I could see how well champagne goes with all foods, my hostess explained to me.)



The next course, a filet of beef cooked inside a breaded pouch, came rolling to the table on a cart; the waiter used a knife to open the breaded pouch, used to seal in the meat’s flavor, before slicing our next course, and presenting it on our plates (the breaded pouch was discarded; I am thinking as I write this, I wish I had it now, and not to discard!).



The final course was a home-made in the Les Crayeres’ kitchen pistachio ice cream, served in a small dish that had been rubbed with some fruit concoction, raspberry I believe.



Let me be succinct and say simply, the meal was superb.



Earlier in the day, my hostess has asked if I had ever dined at a three star restaurant in France (Michelin three-star, the top ranking in the world).



I replied, no I had not, and she just smiled.



An important note: earlier in the day someone representing a Champagne producer’s association replied, “Of Course,” when I asked if I should wear a tie.



Before that meal, answering the same question, my hostess said, “If you wish.”



Well, I had on a nice grey suit that I always wore in places like Paris, Washington, D.C. and New York City back then. I figured it was enough.



It was.



Of the thirty or so men dining that night I would say 60 percent or more were “sans cravat.”



I tell people if you can afford to dine in such an establishment, you can wear what you want to wear.



(Looking up the prices of that meal on the beautiful large-sized menu I kept for a souvenir, decorated with representations of watercolor paintings executed by a painter friend of Gerard Boyer, I saw that the price of the meal I had enjoyed, sans Champagne, was the then French Franc equivalent of 400 U.S. dollars.)



My second dining experience came at the Boyer Les Crayerer at “lunchtime” (sounds too parochial for that sort of feast!).



I remember having a cocktail of cognac, champagne and fresh, small sized pieces of strawberries; then I had a bottle (by myself) of a Mumm’s Blanc de Blanc (from the chardonnay grape only) Cremant that was unbelievable (I do not think it was sold outside of France at the time). Then I had a half bottle of a fine (and very strong) Bordeaux rouge with a duck course, followed by a glass of Pommery Champagne Cuvee Louise Pommery in honor of the woman (that’s right, woman) who introduced dry champagne to the world; before Louise Pommery, who took over Pommery after her husband died, introduced that style of champagne to the world, all champagnes were sweet.



(Mentioning only chardonnay grapes go into a Blanc de Blanc wine, I should add that all champagnes are made from these grape varietals only: chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier.)



Afterwards, after my second dining experience at the Boyer Les Crayeres, I had that multi-ounce glass of Remy Martin XO, which I wrote about earlier in this blog.



And then, I am very proud to say as an artist and photographer, I took a hand-held, natural-light image of Chef Boyer in his kitchen with my professional grade Canon 35 MM camera that was good enough to be published in a national wine magazine in the U.S.



How I captured such an image after drinking all that I just described must say a lot about the benefits of fine French cuisine.



Writing for either The Wine News, or Wine Enthusiast, I don’t remember which, I noted that with many trips to the places where Champagnes and Cognacs originate, and with sampling both during many different visits to champagne and cognac houses each day, and with more wine or cognac with meals, I never suffered a bad hangover during my working trips to France.



I guess it was because I was dining well at the time.



So, that is the tale of the two meals at the Boyer Les Crayeres.



To repeat myself, let me say the toast again, that I made above:



“A Votre Sante, Gerard Boyer.”



(Let me add: What A Chef! When you experience cuisine prepared in the kitchen of such a chef, you understand why France regards its best chefs as it regards its best politicians and artists: from DeGaulle and Mitterand (from the Charente Region, home of Cognac) to Picasso, Miro, Braque, Hugo, Bizet and Ravel. Also, searching the Internet, I just discovered that Gerard Boyer has written a book: to get a better idea of the great dining experiences I had courtesy of this great chef, I have a two word suggestion – Get it.)

Self-Portrait on the terrace of the Closerie des Lilas in Paris, another
place for the world's finest dining (delicious oysters are a specialty).