It was
jeudi-saint, a bank holiday, so I rang in advance,
'Is it possible to reserve a table for this evening?"
'Houff, pfff -
this evening?" said the restauranteur, audibly put out "What time?"
He must be overbooked, I thought, but he agreed nonetheless to reserve a table for us at 8pm.
We arrived at a grey building on a grey road with a white plastic table and chairs on the pavement, and entered via the bar. Cigarette smoke hung in the air from hastily departed smokers, the TV was full-on, an unsociable Pekingese dog regarded us from under the table with a bulging eye, the customer-in-residence regarded us with two. He called the owners, they showed us to the dining area, which opened onto the bar. The entire restaurant was empty, it had always been empty and always would be. A plastic Christmas tree sat atop a pile of papers and bits and pieces littered the shelves. The tablecloths were
faux Provençale in yellow and blue polyester with mud coloured paper protectors.
A small waiter moved sideways across the room towards us and said blurrily 'did you reserve?'.
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| We peruse the menu, not yet reassured we are in a good place... |
French Country Restaurants; appearances can be deceptive
However, I have learned that appearances can be deceptive in French country restaurants. There was no dust on the cladding ledge, the paper table protectors were new, the floor clean to the edges, this gave me hope.
We chose the mid-range menu at 23 Euros, starter, main, cheese and pudding. For a starter I chose duck 'ham' with melon, S and JC omellettes aux cèpes, B salad with two livers, and B the childrens' menu (steak and chips as per, thank goodness or there would have been a terrible fuss and the restaurant would have been deemed No Good).
The mum came in with '
amuse-bouches'. Yes, exclamation mark, amuse-bouches!
Verrines filled with a Roquefort pear and cumin
'crème'.
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| Tucking in: omellette aux cèpes for S and JC, salade 2 foies for B, pâté en croute for R |
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| We kept the picture of our English exchange student S deliberately blurred to preserve his anonymity (he is laughing not screaming...) |
My starter was decorated with star fruit and wafer thin slices of blood orange. B had duck liver, half of it
poêlé (seared) half in a foie gras style, and R had
pâté en croute for his childrens' menu starter
(9.50 the menu) a sort of up-market pork pie slice. The roast breast of duck was served with hand-fried potato slices and a '
gallette' of courgette and cheese, followed by a pretty wild raw-hide cows milk cheese (which we wrapped in napkins and took home for cooking) served with home made apricot jam and
isle flotante for pud, even the quarter pitcher of table wine from Corbières was good; the meal was delicious; presentation attractive; the service attentive (we discussed the rescue of their stray cat, the wild men in the mountains and the introduction of the bear, it turned out the waiter had to cancel his night out with his hippy friends when we booked, so that was why he sounded put out) and we all had a jolly good time, who could ask for more? (apart from turning down the telly and cutting out the fags).
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R on top form, just been given novelty ice cream and plate of sweets; JC peaking after a day's walk in the peaks
Le Picou at Ercé, no website available....obviously |
