The world capital of cassoulet: a visit to Castelnaudary

Castelnaudary from Le Grand Bassin

A conversation with Martie some months ago about meeting up for cassoulet ended up with our visiting the town of Castelnaudary in the heart of the southwest of France, unfortunately not with Martie as she and the gang are on the Canal du Midi and too far away at this point. 

To highlight the importance of this dish to the French it has a grand old brotherhood dedicated entirely to the preservation and dissemination of this one dish - the cassoulet. I have one of Jan's Journals - our South African Michelin Star chef in Nice - where he features the dish and its recipe, its been on my to do list for some time to attempt. So much excitement to get to do a tasting first.

According to the article the story and legends of the dish can be traced back several centuries. It's an Italian potter who made the terra cotta flat bottomed and flaring at the top bowls which became the signature shape for the bean and meat stew. 

Jan goes to the world's best cassoulet restaurant and when I  googled, it is closed on Wednesdays, oh well, you cannot win them all, so I picked another mostly on star rating and in we went.

The cassoulet has a crust, which we broke releasing a wave of steam so heartwarming and earthy, comfort food at its best and as my friend Rosella quipped 'rib-stickingly delicious'. 

The beans are Haricots du Lauragais, beans from this part of France, they are a long, narrow white beans and so delicious as the base of the stew, by far my best part. It's not runny either, our dish had the traditional sausage, piece of roasted pork and a confit leg of duck. Fresh green leaves as a side. 

We could barely move after lunch but I still had shopping on my to-do list and to experience the amazing Maison Escudier in the old village, in operation from 1920 and  a 'member d' honneur' of the cassoulet brotherhood.

We found the delightful old shop after some driving 'squiggly' as Nate would say. And I made my first purchase, Maison Escudier  are well known for the ready to heat and eat cassoulet bought in a glass jar. I am keeping it for a dinner with Nikki and Jan when we are back in the Netherlands. 

My second purchase was a huge sack of the dried Lauragais beans, what a treasure. My plan is to challenge our foodie group back in South Africa to cook the recipe from Jan's Journal and from Rosella's French cooking lesson and to treat ourselves to cassoulet one cold winter Sunday. 

We stretched our legs and walked along the Grand Bassin with its views across the town and the four ancient locks Saint Roche still in operation some 350 years after the Canal du Midi was built, and as it would happen the boat going through the locks had been hired  by South Africans.

Fred and a Pope: Pierre-Buffiere, middle of nowhere, France

Our delightful refuge, the Auberge Dupuytren, Pierre-Buffiere

So what do Pope Pius VII and Fred have in common? 

They both overnighted in Pierre-Buffiere.

Fred yesterday and the Pope in 1814, both fleeing (sort off) Paris; I seem to collect these random bits of info along a road trip and I am really not sure what to do with either the photos or the information, so mostly its forget and delete.

What amused me even more was the tourist agenda for our 'village etape', which is an acknowledgement given to villages that offer something different to the standard food or accommodation you would find along the main highways throughout France.

Having just had our time in Paris as a family with a choice of world class places, spaces, museums, gardens, galleries, shopping, restaurants, exhibitions, fan parks - the options are endless and overwhelming, so we settled on our daily highlights, unable to even touch what is on offer.

And it's manic with people.

Roman road and bridge in Pierre-Buffiere
with the hand painted signage

Here in Pierre-Buffiere we were the sole tourists, no security, no queues and no ticketing. Its a gentle amble down to the Breuil River, along a Roman Road to see the Roman bridge; its a visit to the Xth C abbey, special for my quiet reflection time, with its 18 deep-blue enamelled porcelain tiles from 1838 set into the door (photos already deleted); its an ancient church wall with its bricked-in window that is now part of someone's home; its a lovely sunset while having a set menu which once again was a treat. 

And restful country views.

I rarely plan a one nighter on road trips but leaving Paris now and in August; it was just too far to get to our base here in Salies and in August to Italy. And how different my two choices!

The overnight in Beaune was the typical Ibis highway stop, gosh it was a box with a window, we could barely manoeuvre around and certainly could not move at the same time. The food we could find without too much hassle has already slipped my mind into oblivion. 

So how wonderful to have returned to this delightful little village, with its fabric bunting and recycled plastic ornaments everywhere, we were well nourished on every level.

A famous Parisian bookshop: Shakespeare and Company

A little nook for children, James and Kirstie browsing in Shakespeare and Company, Paris

Shakespeare and Company is world famous and its a place of wonderful memories for me going back to my 30th birthday. We had arrived in France; settled into our village Marly-le-Roi with our two children of 18 months and 6 weeks old; and I was about to celebrate my 30th birthday. 

30 and living in France in 1986

It was also an opportunity to arrange for a babysitter and go into Paris to have a night out. It was not a simple exercise to move countries with two babies, a foreign language, a new job for Fred, finding a home to rent, when I look back on the experience I am rather proud of what we managed to do and also how well we used our time here to explore France, discover Paris and learn the language.

Our evening out was also the first time that I popped into Shakespeare and Company, the English bookshop in the heart of Paris on the banks of the Seine and opposite Notre Dame. it happened to be which was around the corner from the restaurant we had selected for my 30th. It's a quaint old building, with a rabbit warren of rooms, uneven floors and low wooden beams and has an enviable literary history.

I have always bought children's books when I visit. 

Babar the Elephant for Shawni in 1986, Babar for my much anticipated first grandchild in 2016 while I celebrated my 60th birthday back in Paris.

Back at the bookshop,
buying a book for my first grandchild in 2016

And yesterday, I took Shawni, James and Kirstie into the bookshop - after queuing to get in -its so popular now that they limit the number of people in the store! And of course, Babar again, and this time for Kirstie. She also chose a little Beatrix Potter book. Our highlight though was finding an illustrated pop up Harry Potter book for James, who can now start on the magical world the J K Rowling has created and now lives on into the next generation.

Happy Nan, happy kids who both love books and being read to by Mom and Dad,
and sometimes Nan also gets an opportunity to read to them.

Window quote, Rachel Cusk:

"That is what a book does. 

it's one individual

talking to another individual

and that is its strength"

The ordinary days: on the road in Europe

 

When a hit or miss is a hit, lunch at the Auberge Dupuytren, somewhere in France

So how about the ordinary days among our stand out experiences, so much of an extended stay is also about the quiet times and the gentle passing of time.

Doing the laundry on a rainy afternoon. Making a delicious salad and setting a table with a view. An early morning good cup of coffee from Fred. A good nights sleep. Relishing the fresh air in the mountains. A conversation with a dear friend. A hug from a child and a grandchild. A WhatsApp from family and friends. An end of day swim as the fierceness of the sun decreases. Watching a Red Kite soar above me. Popping into a supermarket for nothing special but toilet paper and coming out with a delicious goats cheese. Ironing clothes. These moments are the holiday.

And it's also about the tough side of being on the road. Transitions days. The packing and unpacking. The scratchiness between us with all the unknowns. The disappointment with poor food choices and expensive awful coffee. The anxiousness of being in traffic and having to navigate the complexity of the highways and byways. Arriving in a different space and having to orientate and make nice. The tiredness that comes with travel and the anxiety of remaining well. The irritation of white goods flummoxing me with their complexity.The pressure of catering and provisioning. These moments are the holiday too.

My way of being is one of planning ahead, researching and I rarely just arrive somewhere. Today was a harsh transition day, from the tranquility of the south of France to the frenetic busyness and traffic of Paris. 

I had planned a picnic en route and as lunch time neared we were driving through sheets of rain. So I just picked a village at random, Pierre Buffiere, drove down a quiet street and I noticed that the Auberge was offering a lunch. We walked in hopeful and wishful...

Such a unexpected surprise, behind the rather blank facade of the Auberge the restaurant was buzzing with happy diners. The flustered waitress was barely coping, but we eventually worked out the set three course meal and sat back happily being served layers of simple delicious food. 

I cannot remember when last we dined like locals, with a fixed price menu and the plats du jour, a carafe d'eau and baguette on the table. With only one small deviation from the locals, we have our cafe with a splash of milk which is then a noisette. 

This meal and a welcoming apartment already set up by Shawni and Craig made for an 'unordinary' day. 

La magie des glace: Kimglace, St Martory

The delightful surprise that is Kimglace

James and Kirstie are clear about one thing, who they love and what they love. They love Mom and Dad and they are completely nuts about ice-cream. And one of our pleasures is to have an ice-cream outing with the kids.

So like any good Nan, I googled artisanal ice-cream opportunities close to our village and one site caught my eye, the colourful and quirky Kimglace. 

What we found was boldly painted caravan parked in a lot near a school in St. Martory with the TGV that roars past every now and again, a serving hatch and chairs and tables dotted around the parking lot.

Such a delightful surprise and Simon, who was manning the caravan, helped with tastings and choices. Kim is a true artisan glacier and some of the best ice cream we have tasted - ever!

I plan to go back for dessert soon!

 

Let's choose Nan - au cornet ou en pot 

Ice-cream happiness, and a thumbs up from the kids

Provisioning: a French morning market tradition

Monday morning market in Salies-du-Salat

There is nothing quite like a visit to the weekly village morning market and we have made sure to pop into many markets along our road trip, both French and Italian. Today was a stroll into the village with James and Kirstie and getting them involved in selecting the produce and trying to manage the carrying - both activities rather short-lived. 

Things go well, until they don't. The roasted farm-reared 'chicken man' only took cash, which meant a traipse into the high street for an ATM, but we recovered, although Kirstie is still looking for a 'chicken man'. The longest queue for the morning was for the bread seller and I had to grin when he offered the littleys a treat and Kirstie turned him down.

Provisioning also comes with the veggie prep afterwards - the red peppers needed roasting; as did the red onions and garlic; the strawberries and radishes needed cleaning; I made a quick tomato sauce with a huge heirloom tomato for with our lunch on the patio.... I need a hit of coffee now and a rest....the pears need poaching, I think they can wait for tomorrow. 

Either way I can feed the family tonight, are expecting Shawni and Craig to arrive soon.
 

"il attaque": a circular moment between Marly-le-Roi to Salies-du-Salat

"Elle attaque" Kirstie loving the fresh baguette!

Shawni and me in 1987. 

The story.

We lived in Marly-le-Roi, a village to the west of Paris in 1986/7. We would pop into the local boulangerie for our daily baguette and on one of those days, when our French was rudimentary at best, the baker was yelling at us "il attaque, il attaque" and we had no clue what was being said or what was happening. 

Eventually we worked out the Shawni had lent out of her pram and was systematically breaking off the tops of the baguettes that were stored in a basket near her pram!

So I was so mindful of this story when we ambled down into the village this morning to buy baguettes and I loved breaking off the tops when Kirstie asked for some. A true circular moment.

A morning walk into Salies-du-Salat
with James and Kirsten

A pilgrim path and walking meditation: Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges Valcabrere

 

The cloister of the Cathedral of Sainte-Marie, perfect for my walking meditation.

Pilgrim way between Saint-Just and the Cathedral.

Yesterday we walked the pilgrim path between the Basilica of Saint-Just of Valcabrere and the Cathedral of Sainte-Marie. These stopping points in Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges are listed on the Unesco's World Heritage List as belonging to the routes that ultimately lead to Santiago de Compostela. How wonderful to briefly touch this ancient way and for a while to be part of its story.

It's a small community, completely off the beaten track with a history that goes back to being a thriving capital of the Roman Empire - Lugdunum.

The cathedral's construction dates back to 1083 with many transformations and additions over the centuries and as we walked the path it floats on the hill and dominates the gentle surrounding landscape.

Both the interiors of the basilica and the cathedral were restful and each in their own way magical. My favourite place though was the cloister, overlooking the Pyrenean piedmont, with its pebble floor and its detailed carvings on the capitals of the pillars; peaceful. 

The remarkable cathedral with the historic lower and upper town,
 among the ancient ruins from the Roman Era

Detail from the Upper Town, medieval Cite, 16th C half-timbered house.

Quietude: slipping into Salies-du-Salat, Haute Garonne

The Chapelle Castrale (14th C)

We have moved far west, leaving the heat and the frenetic traffic of Marseille behind us, and starting a time of quietude here in Salies-du-Salat.

Marseille RWC madness

Fred and the gang had a marvellous Rugby World Cup weekend in Marseille. We had the pleasure of catching up with Sarah and Collen after 7 years and the excitement of meeting Shawni and Craig and the little ones at the TGV platform, all on the same day. 

I loved my day in Marseille too, experiencing the hustle of a street market to buy ginger and fresh lemons, the crowds of English and Scottish supporters among all the Springbok fans at the Vieux Port which was vibrant and energising and it was fun being a part of it all. 

Sarah and I shopped for the iconic Savon de Marseille, a business with a history going back to 1856.

June and Ross have a home in Salies, with beautiful expansive views towards the Pyrenees, a place to breathe fresh air, to swim, to walk, to appreciate the garden and to listen out for the owls calling at night. And June has just texted me to look out for huge frogs popping out from under the veranda.

We will take June's advice - "Rest and Enjoy".

We harvested ripe figs today, Fred pruned and cut back a shrubby area around the fig tree, I cut flowers, we walked into the village for daily baguettes, pain au chocolat, fresh salad greens and this afternoon wandered around the centuries old chapel and chateau ruins near the house.

Quietude indeed....

Chapelle Castrale detail

Chateau Comtal ruin from the 13th C

Rugby World Cup 2023: Ready, steady, go....

 

Flying the flag!

Transition day, Sestriere in the Italian Alps down to La Bouilladisse, not too far from all the rugby action this weekend in Marseille. 

It's been many years in the planning with so many twists and turns along the way, and here we are. Shawni, Craig, James and Kirsten arrive tomorrow having travelled for days from New Zealand and we will meet them at the TGV station. 

Collen and Sarah from the UK are down at the fan park getting ready for the opening game. We will be joining them for the Saturday England vs Argentina game and on Sunday, Fred will be at the South Africa vs Scotland game while I babysit, cannot wait. Martie and Neil will be in Marseille too from tomorrow.

Our hosts, Nicolas and Helene, whose ground floor apartment we have booked on Airbnb, have invited us to join their festivities with their family! 

Too marvellous to join a French rugby loving family as they watch the Les Blues kick off the event....we had a 'burger night' French style with much sharing of alcohol and good rugby stories.

It was a party weekend, very late nights for the lovers of the game and apart from the mayhem at the stadium both the English game and the South African game went to plan.

Fred arrives in Marseille getting excited
about the South African opening game!

                                                                                                Converging from all over the world, 

                                                                                            New Zealand and South Africa!

Two days of Rugby World Cup action in Marseille, September 9-10, 2023

Au Coeur des Géants: Col du Lautaret and Col du Galibier

A perfect summer day in the Hautes-Alps

 

A day in among the giants of the Alps. We drove the road from the south of the Col du Galibier, a twisting 8.5km from the Col du Lautaret. It's one of the highest paved roads in the Alps and we passed through the tunnel at 2556m which is the highest in Europe. 

Another legendary Tour de France landmark, the most visited climb in the event's history and a mecca for all cyclists. We spoke to a young German girl who is cycling the classic passes with a group and they put in months of training and planning, its a life event for many and it is for Fred and me too.

And its all about the outstanding viewpoints from both the Col du Lautaret and the Col du Galibier and we had unrestricted views across to Mont Blanc (4810m)! 

Mont Blanc from the Table d'Orientation at the Col du Galibier

Day three in the Alps and we saved the best for last, such beauty wherever we looked.

Typical alpine scenery and the iconic switchbacks.

Moments of reflection and gratitude: the Collegiate Church, Briancon

Collegiate Church of Briancon dating from 1703 floating above the Haute Ville

I have set a practice in place for these two months of travel through France, Italy, Spain, Belgium and the Netherlands. 

Between the busyness of finding a good coffee and pastry, of planning our walking, of road tripping, of sight seeing, of managing photos and blogging, of baguettes from a Boulangerie, of daily provisioning, of time with friends and family, of packing and unpacking... I will sit quietly in each church I happen upon.

The opportunities for reflection and particularly for gratitude seem to get lost in the daily hustle. 

Stepping into the quietude of a church, however grand or plain, finding a back row seat, taking in the lofty skill of the stonemasons, the floors and stone steps that are worn from centuries of footsteps, noticing the fresh flowers and the subtle lighting, loving the sunlight through the stain glassed windows, suppressing the need to tidy and declutter, feeling the gentle warmth of the wooden pew around me, I am able to breathe deeply and just sit. 

These restful moments are restorative and a keen reminder for me to pay attention to all that I am grateful for.

Route des Grande Alps: on the Col l'Izoard, Briancon

 

Arriving after a 19km drive up the Col l'Izoard

Another day of navigating the tight switchbacks and roads here in the Grande Alps, along with cyclists, motorcyclists, alpine 'skiers', the Porsche Club outing, utility vans and trucks, cars and the Kersten's. I remember hearing Ant Mccrossan on the Tour de France talk about the difference between the roads of the Alps versus the Pyrenees, the main difference is that Alps are designed for traffic. 

Gosh, nervous passenger the whole way up and over and back up and down - 60 km of incredible roads, would have loved a quieter day...

We took in the scenery and then headed out on the Clot la Cime hike, it was a narrow vertiginous path but we were away from the noise of the motorcycles and floated above the pass which was a joy. And a quite perfect picnic moment alongside the road, baguette, market bought vine tomatoes in olive oil and Italian Toma cheese from the farm near our apartment in Sestriere....

Hiking along the Clot de Cime with its magnificent views

The view from our hiking trail, another Tour de France epic mountain pass.

Riding and hiking the Col du Granon: a high mountain pass in the Haute-Alps in France

Grand Lac de l'Oule, Granon, French Alps

Each year I spend the 3 weeks of the Tour de France on the couch, with the afternoon sun on my back and a knitting or embroidery project in hand, watching this great event. And I have done so since we lived in France in the mid 1980's. We had 'accidentally' watched an individual time trail in Nice some years before and did not even know what it was all about. How times have changed for this fan of Le Tour!

Last year (2022 Tour de France) we watched a particularly epic day when Team Jumbo-Visma launched an attack against our favourite, Tadej Pogacar, on the Col du Granon. The attack lost him a few minutes and the ultimately any chance of winning the race. Well yesterday we drove these steep narrow switchbacks, the cyclists names in white on the tarmac road, and wound our way up the mountain to 2413m, completely in awe of these cyclist we so admire. 

Our Grand Lac de l'Oule hiking trail started from the Col du Granon and we climbed gently towards the Col de l'Oule. We walked through vast pastures, with beautiful views of the Cerces massif and the rocky cliffs of Grand Pierron and then onto the peaceful setting of the green alpine lake. The way back along the ridge with its panorama of the Guisane valley and the Ecrins massif was quintessential alpine landscape. 

A truly memorable circular hike, 300m elevation gain and 7km.

On the path down to the Grand Lac de l'Oule

Fred with the Granon peak in the background

Majesty of our hiking trail

Sidebar: so a slippery rock on the muddy path along the Guisane Valley got the better of Fred, he feel on his right hand and because he was protecting his phone, he split his skin above the knuckle to the bone. So our afternoon was a visit to the medical centre in the village for stitches....never a dull moment.

An Alpine passeggiatta: Sestriere high life

Neville and Rosella introduced us to the Italian evening stroll, the passeggiatta, back in 2008 in Umbria. Here we are in the Italian Alps, Sestriere high life indeed, definitely not pubs and clubs but rather walking  above 2000m! 

Our passeggiatta has taken us into the alpine forest, past slate roof stone houses bunkered into the ground, marmots playing in the open glades, cows with bells tinkling, late summer flowers and even a farm stall where we bought cheese, milk, yogurt, eggs and panne cotta.

Majestic Monte Chaberton, 3131m

Fred perched on the Balcone Trail

And then when you look up from the path, the views are completely magnificent. The scale is hard to capture. The peaks loom large even though they float in the background and they are already lightly snow dusted after some early precipitation recently.

Views from Sestriere across to Punta Ramiere, 3303m

Provisioning for cheese, yogurt, milk, eggs and panne cotta straight from the farm