Tricking the Eye and Palate : A Trompe L’oeil – Adventure In Perigord Noir

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  Ordinarily, I like my food to look like what it’s supposed to be. As any traveling gourmand knows, there are times when you wonder what the connection between the menu description and what has been placed before you exactly is. But that’s not the sort of trickery I’m talking about here. I’m referring to the intentional or artful culinary deception that is pleasing to the eye, taste buds, and mind at the same time. When you come across an unexpected treat like this, you want to share the genius of the dish with others. On a recent trip to France, my French wife and our daughter took a short vacation within a vacation to Dordogne for a few days. My wife’s parents live in Correze, which isn’t all that far from Dordogne, so it was a trip we could take in a few hours—yet be in a splendid part of France. Given our departure time, my in-laws suggested a place we could have our afternoon meal on the way to our hotel in Dordogne. But when we got to the restaurant, we found that it was closed for the week. In typical French fashion, there was a note tacked to the door that said, “En Vacances.” We got a laugh out of it, considering it was during the season when such a restaurant might actually do more business than usual. You have to admire a nation that “mandates” vacations the way France does. Admiration aside, we were still hungry and this place looked like the only decent restaurant in the town. We were also on a “route touristique” so we didn’t know exactly when or how long it would take to find a good place to eat in the villages along the way. We climbed back in the car and drove on through the dark, cloudy, and rainy weather that day in the northern part of Dordogne. Not long into the drive we spotted a sign advertising the Chateau de la Fleunie and its fine restaurant. “Looks good,” I said to Dominique, my wife. “But it might be over the top for us as far as price goes and the way we’re dressed. We’re all in shorts.” My wife has a wonderful “you only live once” attitude at times like these. She wanted to check out the place, saying all we were investing was a little time. Well, the little time turned out to be longer that we had planned. The road signs to the chateau were confusing and often contradictory. I kept kidding Dominique that this trickery was intended to keep riffraff like us from discovering the chateau. But we finally located the place after finding out we’d driven in a large circle and were approaching the chateau via a high ridge—which gave us a good look at the property that included a fenced in area with sheep, goats, and deer grazing in the mist. I couldn’t help wondering if these animals were part of the chateau’s attempt to create a certain atmosphere or if they were an extension of the restaurant. Our eight-year-old daughter, Emilie, was getting cranky about being hungry by the time we pulled into the mostly vacant parking lot. Placed at various points in the lot were posted menus that included the prices of the food at the restaurant—fair warning to those seeking something fast and cheap. I was both amused and a bit put off by the menus, but we pressed on, hoping now that we wouldn’t be the ones rejected. We were REALLY hungry. A friendly hostess greeted us warmly. She didn’t look twice at the way we were dressed. Perhaps this was because it was getting past the time people would normally be stopping by to eat. The restaurant appeared nearly empty save for a couple of tables occupied by a few people clearly having business meals, and we had a cute eight-year-old in tow—an automatic free pass with many French gatekeepers. The fairly small dining room was decorated with elaborate tapestries and heavy antique cooking utensils placed on various mantles. If we had one immediate complaint, the place was a bit drafty—what with the doors and large windows being open on such a damp and cool day. But we weathered it, focusing on the menu for the day. We went for the prix fixe that offered foie gras as the entree and noisettes d’agneau as the main course. One of the dessert choices was something that translated as strawberry gazpacho. We started with a clever appetizer of smoked salmon, thinly sliced and swirled. But the tip off that me might be in for something special came when Dominique asked me if I’d tried the garnish that came with foie gras. I hadn’t. I was too busy slathering my toast with the foie (three regional varieties, presented with elegance). I slowed down and popped one of the grape-looking spheres into my mouth. Wow! If it was a grape, it was a grape that had been candied to an intense sweetness. Now wait. As the thing dissolved, it turned out to have black pepper in the center—and a pleasant pepper at that. The lamb main course was beautifully presented, with a slightly crisp ring of fat encircling the tender noisette. Sculpted potatoes and carrots surrounded the lamb. As we waited for the dessert, I thought about those animals grazing outside the chateau. I wondered if it was intentional that you couldn’t see them from the restaurant windows. When the waiter placed the strawberry gaszpacho before me, I couldn’t believe that it wasn’t actually a real tomato and vegetable based dish. Not at first glance anyway. The strawberry puree was the consistency and color that you might expect in a real gaszpacho. And as I bent closer to the dessert, I could see tiny bits of plum and pear that had been cut in form and chosen by color to resemble onions and green pepper. Placed in the middle of…
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