Wine Fit For A Queen


Reine, her real name and the word for Queen in French, was destined to live up to her namesake. She grew up among the grapes of the Pécharmant wine producing region near Bergerac and has been nurturing these fields and her family for the better part of 80 years. Not only has her domaine (Domaine du Haut Pecharmant) created a delicious array of wines, but also a thriving family business, and a reputation that precedes her.

“She’s famous,” says Olivier when he introduces his 85-year-old Grandmother as “Madame Roches”. He adds, “You can’t escape the history.”

Looking less like a family matriarch and more like a proud grandmother, Reine squeezes Olivier’s arm and smiles, moving slowly with her walking stick to greet us. Olivier and his brother Didier are the 4th generation to manage the operations of the business, and are unmistakably proud to be a part of this living history. Michel Roches, Reine’s son and Olivier and Didier’s father, joins us in the wine cave for a small tour.

“We have always been aware of the presence of those who have been here before us,” reflects Michel. “My mother transferred to me a magnificent job, and all I had to do was follow her example. Now, my sons take part in this story.”

To read more a this 'queen' and her family's history in the vines around Bergerac, read Dordogne Stories: Tales From The Table.

A Former Presidential Chef & Ambassador Of The Perigord


“I live almost like my grandmother did,” says Danièle, who once cooked for President Francois Mitterrand.
The house is indeed untouched by time, and she confirms that not much has changed, except for refrigeration and plumbing, and Danièle admits with a laugh that she likes to iron her dishtowels. But the pièce de resistance and our biggest curiosity is the enormous fireplace dominating the room. It is open on both sides, with a slew of cooking utensils at the ready. Danièle stokes the flames, and tells us she designed the fireplace herself with a purpose.
“Cooking is so much more than just eating,” she says. “It is talking and being social, and making people as happy as you can with the food you prepare.”

Danièle picks up a black cast iron pot called a royale and sets it down in the embers. She tells us it is over 100 years old.
When we ask her what she cooks in it, she says, “Everything--- A whole turkey. A lièvre (wild hare). A cake.”
With that she takes a paintbrush, dips it in goose fat and coats the inside of the royale. Within minutes the familiar aroma permeates the house.

His nose knows...


Roland met us wearing, no joke, a lab coat and a large plastic cap set askew over his thick mop of dark hair. Looking very much the part of mad scientist, he greeted us with a handshake and a cone full of sweet and smooth mandarin sorbet. It couldn’t have tasted and smelled better if we had plucked it from a tree. We looked around for the smoking beakers and a bubbling cauldron but all we saw was a spotless, stainless steel kitchen.

While standing in his office, Roland identifies the brand of the perfume we are wearing, then asks if we have read Patrick Süskind’s novel ‘Perfume’ in which the main character creates the ultimate scent (made from beautiful women) to achieve the ultimate reaction.

“I thought, why not adapt this concept to ice cream,” he says.

Roland's melding of color, smell and texture is nothing short of alchemy, and he believes this sensory fusion is what lets people experience food, not just eat it.

Read more about this alchemist and others who are turning the cuisine of the Dordogne upside down. Also included in the book...a hard to get a recipe (we had to sweet talk him) for Tomato-Basil sorbet... from the magician himself.

Chasing Fairy Tales


Dreams are often born from the most unexpected places.  Ours happened to be delivered by the postman.  The postcard arrived nearly 16 years ago and depicted the most beautiful village we had ever seen.  Nicole and Claude, a couple we had met in Paris the year before, sent it to us to temp us further into their native France.  A village, enveloped in fog, huddled against a cliff at the edge of the Dordogne River, a dilapidated boat tied to its shore.  If fairy tales had dreams, they would look like this.  On the back of the card, in small black and white print were the words, La Roque Gageac, Dordogne.  We knew then we had to find this place.