Eugenia Keegan

Béziers turned out to be a very interesting city.  As Malcolm said it is indeed a working city.  There are not really any tourist destinations, however a city of this age has plenty of interesting historical sites.  The city itself is busy, sometimes loud, a bit dirty, and always on the move.  There is a large ethnic mix which keeps the tradition evolving.  The cuisine certainly mirrors this.  I suppose my only real complaint is the overwhelming amount of dog pooh.  Truly, it a site to behold.  The sweepers come through three days a week.  They are followed by a large “hotsy” that then washes off the brushes.  I wanted to do a post that was only pictures of the offending goo.  Although some people would think it funny and perhaps artsy (think the Brooklyn Art Museum exhibition Sensation), others (think my mother) would consider it in very poor taste.  Suffice to say, the mothers won out.

Tourist town or no, I found some lovely sites.

My Neighborhood

Next Street Over

Local Afternoon Hangout

Allées Paul Riquet, The Center of All Life

Pierre-Paul Riquet, Founder Canal du Midi

Looks Like They Moved!

Friday Market

Lunch!

Choice of 'Shrooms

Local Fish Stand

Amusement Along the Allée

Local Harvest Celebration

Fountain Along the Allée

Local Inhabitant

I love white wines.  From a strictly winemaking point of view I think that making white wine is perhaps the most challenging….OK, you know what I mean…making REALLY GOOD white wine.  My hand’s on experience is with full throttle “Burgundian” style chardonnay from California’s Russian River and Knight’s Valleys.  (By “Burgundian” I mean wines made with techniques borrowed from the original chardonnay greats of Burgundy.) Grapes grown in these two Sonoma County appellations are from relatively cooler climates (within Northern California), grapes that are historically picked a bit later (in particular Knight’s Valley in late October), with livelier acidity, and in addition to the fruit a mineral quality that adds up to something special.  California chardonnay has been beaten up badly over the past five to ten years and for good reason.  BUT, there are examples that can share an honorable table with any.

Having said that, my tastes have migrated over the years (thank you David!) to the fully mature fruit driven wine that never slips into a barrel, but forever must wear its ripe varietal character.  These are whites that are crisp and alive.  They are hard to find because frankly there is limited economic potential for this style and for the most part they are best enjoyed in their youth.  An interest in grape varieties that excel in this straight forward style lead us to a trip to north west Spain in spring 2009 that was a research project in Spanish white varieties. Included were Albariño, Godello, Hondarrabi Zuri (the sensational crisp, low alcohol, slightly spritzy wine from the Basque Country), Verdejo, Viura, and more.

This is all a lead up to picpoul.  Piquepoul or picpoul is the name of the grape and Picpoul de Pinet is the name of the appellation that is the lead statement for this variety.  The appellation is part of the Languedoc but closer in proximately to the Mediterranean.  Surprisingly soils are not just sand, but  include lots of rocks on many sites.  The garrigue has its own personality.  The name picpoul means “stinging lips” as a reference to the high acidity. The wines live up to this lively, vivacious style; loads of acid, rich in texture.  Only a handful make it into the states.  There is one Picpoul made in the USA as far as I know and that is from McCrea in Washington State.  I have not tasted it.

Sunday seemed like the perfect day for picpoul and some seaside, fishy experience.  I set out with the idea of heading to the sea for lunch and then “back around” to the appellation.  It happened just the opposite.   Lunch in Pézenas was absolutely out of this world.  Thankfully one can diet when they die. I started with a breast of chicken smothered in a sauce of fois gras.  This is not so unusual here, but still feels like the ultimate savory indulgence.   As if this were not enough I had to ask (just because I can!) for une petite assiette de fromage (small plate of cheese).   Then, and only because it was Sunday I insisted on a dessert that included chocolate.   You can see for yourself the multi layered chocolate/mousse/custard/ cake that I devoured….oh, did I mention that it was swimming in a pool of crème anglaise??

And of course, this discourse was washed down with a lovely, dry, bright, palate cleansing 2009 Picpoul.

The afternoon was spent wandering through the vineyards of the appellation ending in a visit with St. Martin de la Garrigue , an old favorite.

Then I made it to the sea.

Leaving Béziers

At the Restaurant (no, I did not consume these!)

Delicious! (yes, I did consume this!)

St. Martin de la Garrigue

Local Garrigue, Very Aromatic!

Plenty of Rocks

Sandy Limestone

Picpoul Vineyard Near St. Martin

Sunday Foragers

Our Saturday luncheon took place in the courtyard in front of l’eglise Saint-Jacques.   I am not absolutely clear on the history of this small church.  I can tell you that it is quite beautiful.  There are references to some kind of holy site here as early as 900 AD.  Clearly some parts of this building were built/renovated in the 11^th and 12^th centuries.  I am seeing some sources that are linking this church to St. Jacques who seems to have roamed a great deal of the French/Spanish countryside and now has a long route named after him (in France called chemin de St-Jacques).  David and I have seen many people walking/biking this route.  Some of it is quite lovely and rural, other parts run “right through town”.  Whether or not the famous St. Jacques passed through this exact location I cannot be sure.  Mass is held weekly on Tuesday evenings.

Coquille St. Jacques!?

A Quiet Corner

Blue Light

Church Statue Overlooking City Below

Last spring while enjoying a beautiful day in Vaison-la-Romaine I turned a corner and noticed a number of tables and chairs set up for what looked like a banquet luncheon.  A group of women were putting out baskets with the typical picnic fare of des sauscisses, du pain, du fromage et du vin. Others began to arrive, some with baskets of additional items or even more of the same.  I was a bit baffled at first but insight came quickly as I read the sign hanging in the shop windows on that block…it was indeed a “block party”.  Not sure now what they called it, but clearly the neighborhood was gathering for a midday meal.

According to Malcolm this is not unusual and is in fact part of neighborhood life in France.  It happened that his quartier was having just such a gathering on Saturday.  It was billed as a “sardinade” as the theme was sardines.  A large drum was retooled to be a BBQ and not long after the noon bell the Q was fired up and the sardines were grilling.

We were joined by friends of Malcolm’s, Lesly and Geoff.  We each brought some extra goodies along and plenty of vino and set up around the square of tables as did the other neighbors.  The day was very windy and the temperature hovered around 12 degrees (<54 degrees F).  It was chilly indeed and lavish helpings of wine seemed the only rational defense.

Even the sardines went down well with the wine of the day.

Our Chef

The Neighbors

More Neighbors

Our Table Mates

Geoff, Lesly, and Malcolm

Leslie Sharing Her Delicious Cake

You should notice in the first photo the unusual nature of the day, or rather the date.  To maximize the effect I waited (crouched in the car) until the precise moment of 10:10 AM on this date of 10.10.10. My rental car clock radio had the most 10’s together that I could find.  I think that this happens again in another 100 years.  Not many of us will be around to witness this next numerical minute in time.

Interesting date or not, the morning started out cloudy and wet. It turned into one of the largest storms in years.  The drive from Maury to the large working French city of Béziers was beyond description.  The Vallé d’Algy tightens up such that the Algy River and two miniscule lanes of road barely fit between sheer slabs of rock.  The area appears to have plenty of eco-tourism as there were many buses (take a moment to think that one through on this narrow stretch of road with a sheer wall of stone on one side and a fairly substantial drop to the river on the other) and billboards for rafting, hiking, and lots of daily rentals.

The rain fell in sheets and I actually had to pull off the road a couple of times to let squalls push by.  But with my stomach leading me on I made it to the charming village of Lagrasse just in time to tuck into lunch.  The town is one of a handful that is officially stamped as a “beautiful village” or Les Plus Beaux Villages de France and indeed it is.  A plane tree lined main boulevard provides shade and space for the primary commercial zone.  A flank of restaurants rules one side of the road.  On this day the outdoor dining portion of the street was empty and the restaurant windows were steamy from families enjoying their Sunday lunch trying to stay dry and warm.  An aroma of mothballs made it clear that winter clothing was making its first appearance of the new season.

I found a modern bistro run by a couple of guys in the typical arrangement of one in the kitchen and one in the front of the house.  I enjoyed my usual salad, but added jambon et fromage for their fat content (it was cold and wet!) and shifted from my usual rosé to a hearty Corbières red.

I approached the hilltop city of Béziers around 4:00 in the afternoon as I had said I would.  It was Sunday and with the weather the place was barren so I took a few minutes to drive around and get a feel for the layout.  My instructions had me heading toward centre ville, l’Hôtel de Ville et Les Halles, all well signed and central.  The owner of the apartment building, Malcolm, was thankfully waiting with an umbrella.  It turns out that I was parking my car some distance away and needed to unload (and quickly as this was a “living” street with people, cars, etc.) all that I needed.  Since I had been both living out of my car AND had all that space available why streamline?  I grabbed what I thought I needed and off we went to the car park.

A narrow twist of stairs leads to my third and top story flat.  After a few loads I “moved” in a bit but this was not my last apartment.  This is old world charm.  A reminder that this is a 3^rd century building helped put it into perspective.  Naturally I quickly discovered that I did not have everything I needed.  On my first attempt to find the car I failed.  I returned looking like a drowned rat.  Malcolm met me at the door and updated my directions.  I headed back out, successfully found the car, stuffed some additional necessities into a plastic sack and returned “home” drenched but with some very important items (can you believe that in my initial grab I forgot the box with wine and chocolate??!!).

As it was Sunday and my first night in town Malcolm kindly invited me downstairs to his flat for dinner.  He used to own a restaurant and although he was up front he seems quite at ease in the kitchen.  We had a delicious fondue with morsels of salmon, mushroom, cod, courgette, shrimp and a small cherry tomato and cucumber salad.  Each tidbit was forked, dipped in a batter and dropped into sizzling oil.  The result was a crispy outside, soft inside burst of crunch and flavor.  This was topped off with a bottle of his “house” wine, a robust and still lively Corbières from 1998.  A perfect first meal in the Languedoc.

And Where Were You This Minute?

To The Left of Me

To the Right

The Width of the Road

Looking Straight UP!

A Show Stopper Along the Drive

Its Meaning

The Beauty Continues

More Variation in Flora

They Pop Up Out of Nowhere

SO WHERE ARE THE PHOTOS OF LAGRASSE?  The photographer is slacking!  May have to head back there just to remedy this oversight.