If you desire something lighter, is there a beak-to-tail salad, Landaise, heaped with foie gras, duck confit and the poor bird’s organ meats? If you’re lucky. Do they make pâté and rillettes and saucisson out of duck for an appetizer? They do.įor the entrée, might they cook a leg and thigh confit or, perhaps, sear the breast and bathe it in a reduction of grated orange peel, cinnamon, star anise and red wine? Most assuredly. The Dordogne, on the other hand, is all about fermes auberges - farmhouses converted to guest rooms - surrounded by groves of plum or walnut trees, and their family-run restaurants, where madame takes your order, monsieur cooks, mamie pours the anonymous vin rouge, and the children, curious about their guests, race from the kitchen with baskets of crusty country bread and a chipped crock of homemade butter.Ī quick glance at the menu on the chalk board reveals the region’s general all-duck-no-choice selection. It’s about entrecôte Bordelaise à la moelle, a grilled rib-eye served with a red wine and bone marrow reduction, and lamproie à la Bordelaise, a rich winter stew made with lamprey, leeks, lots of butter and perhaps bacon. ![]() Bordeaux is the Grand Hôtel, across from the opera house, and its Gordon Ramsay restaurants.
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