Auberge Saint-Fleuret, estaing, Aveyron

[Stephen Jackson]

Auberge Saint-Fleuret, Estaing, Aveyron, France

So we’d made it to our house in the southernmost tip of the Auvergne. The weather was glorious, and we decided on the spur of the moment to try a restaurant in one of the nearby villages on the Lot river, Estaing. Billed as one of the most beautiful villages in France, Estaing doesn’t disappoint. Despite the fact that the Rally of The Aveyron was in full swing, with insane Frenchmen in overtooled Renault 5’s pelting through the narrow streets with impudence, we strolled around the village and had drinks by the river before heading up to the Saint-Fleuret. It’s a great little place, bizarrely-decorated in Manet wallpaper of the deppest blues and yellows, but there are large windows that look out through vines to a pretty garden below. GaultMillau gave it a ‘Coup-de-Coeur’ award last year, and it gets a 13/20 in this year’s edition, so we knew we were in for a decent meal. It was fabulous.

The place is run by Gilles and Alexandrine Moreau, and in time-honoured fashion he works the kitchen, and she does absolutely everything else. We were seated at a pleasant sunny table, and after ordering, an amuse-bouche arrived. This was brilliant, unbelievably simple, and possibly one of the nicest things I ate all holiday. It was a gazpacho of spinach, topped with a beetroot foam, and a marigold flower. The spinach part tasted so clean and fresh, I presumed it was simply cream, spinach and a little olive oil, maybe a little seasoning. The foam was intensely beetroot-y, and the flower added an extra citrus note. Quite, quite delicious.

My first course was foie gras with quince, and came in the form of two enormous pieces of roast liver, with quenelles of quince puree, and a little balsamic-type reduction, and a touch of Szechuan pepper. Perfect foils for each other, and several pieces of bread were used in the mopping of the juices. Dad had three egg cocottes, flavoured with foie gras, Roquefort and snails, and they were brilliant soft, unctuous little bantam eggs, with just enough of each ingredient to blend perfectly. A mille-feuille of snails flavoured with Laguiole cheese and asparagus was also practically faultless.

My main course was a superb piece of local Aubrac beef with maniguette pepper (Grains of Paradise), a lightly-creamed jus, runner beans and an excellently-made aligot. Dad had carré of lamb stuffed with Provencal vegetables, served with a brilliant herb-stuffed potato and lots of really good, thick-leaved fleshy spinach. T had an excellent piece of swordfish, served with a cornucopia of leaves, vegetables and little dots of juice and vinaigrettes.

For dessert, an excellent nougat glace, a very nice molten chocolate tartlet with chestnut honey ice-cream, and a superb crunchy caramel basket filled with small sweet strawberries and a great caramel ice-cream.

Wines: A great selection for a small list, and we chose a great Coteaux du Libron sauvignon blanc, an absolutely excellent Faugeres from Domaine de la Liquiere, and a stunning Gros Manseng dessert wine, the Premieres Grives 2001 from Chateau du Tariquet.

Good coffee, excellent service throughout (Mme Moreau introduced us the next day to the wine merchant they use in Rodez, which led to a bit of a spree, I’m afraid), and we went back three days later and enjoyed a fantastic 8-course menu for €48, which is seriously good value.

The meal that night, for four, with three bottles of wine, and a few Badoits, came to €269.50, with which we were terribly happy. And full.

If you’re tooling around the area (it’s only 10 miles or so from Michel Bras in Laguiole), you’d be very happy with a meal here. A great local find for us, and nice people to know, too.

Link:

http://perso.wanadoo.fr/auberge.st.fleuret/

[Bux]

I've enjoyed your posts from France today and none more than this one. Auberge Saint-Fleuret seems anything but a destination place. By all accounts, it's hardly the match for Cour des Loges, let alone l'Auberge d'Éridan, in terms of drawing power or as topic of interest, yet I find this post so poingant. It's not likely these days that I'd plan a stop in a one roof inn with no stars and the Auberge Saint-Fleuret doesn't seem the sort of place, I'd be lucky enough to fall into, especially as I already have a couple of favorites in that area. I do know that it reminds me of the places my wife and I discovered many years ago and they were the ones that formed my love of French food and country inns.

I am heartened to see that the food is very contemporary and up to date without being cliche ridden. There are times when I've felt that below the starred level, the food of France is dying. This is a good area of France. We were in the region early last spring and on the whole, we ate very well, but at places we knew. Some of the places we chanced upon were less rewarding and served food that could often be described as stodgy renditions of the classics, or misunderstood attempts at creativity. A well crafted meal is no longer a sure thing in France, but I'm happy it can still be found in little out of the way places.

[Stephen Jackson]

Thanks, Bux.

Yeah, it's a great area if you do some nosing around. We also like 'La Taverne' in Rodez, and had a good meal at 'Gout et Couleur', although that's a bit more upmarket - more like the Vieux Pont in Belcastel, which we also thought excellent.

About 20 minutes up the road from us in Polissal (on the 904 between Entraygues and Rodez) is a great little auberge, the Aub. de la Cascade. It does one of the best estofinados in the region, and has a mind-meltingly short menu. Kid with sorrel, confit and a piece of fish for main courses. And that's it. It is brilliant. Mme Bony is a great cook (especially the stofi) and we always leave her our 'leftovers' (unused eggs and vegetables) before we go to the airport.

It's places like this that make me wonder why I get so bothered about everything here at my place. These small auberges seem to do fine without the worries of Michelin and the AA. One of these days I'm going to make her an offer she can't refuse, I can feel it.

[Bux]

It's places like this that make me wonder why I get so bothered about everything here at my place. These small auberges seem to do fine without the worries of Michelin and the AA. One of these days I'm going to make her an offer she can't refuse, I can feel it.

How does one break the hold of Michelin, AA and all the other local raters? I think it's a hard mind set to break, especially once one is on the track. And it's probably worse once you reach the top. In a way I'm speaking not only of chefs and restaurateurs, but of diners on vacation. Home in NY, I have no trouble spacing out my meals in haute cuisine temples, but on the road in France for just a week or two, The urge to collect as many memorable meals as I can grows large. Admittedly, the thought of consuming four or five stars a day for a week is too daunting for me. The challenge is to have little meals that are memorable, if not in the grandiose way that the multistarred meals are. You have some advantage returning to an area and staying there long enough to learn where these may be. For me, Brittany provides the cheap thrill more than any other part of France, perhaps. It's a rare crèprerie, that can't produce an excellent gallette au sarrasin and not infrequently one with an oeuf mirror of intense flavor that far surpasses even farmer's market eggs back home. Often the memorable little meal features some local product in season -- absolutely fresh river fish, or berrries at their peak -- but the memorable food can often be a surprise -- a slice of pizza with chorizos and roasted peppers from a truck with a wood burning oven. The great pity of that pizza was that I didn't have more instead of stopping for lunch at a small town cafe where I ordered a salad that arrived topped with cheese shot from a can and accompanied by bread that could have only been served in place that also used canned cheese. Fortunately, dinner was at the hands of someone who did worry about everything, although it was at the tail end of his active career.

[Stephen Jackson]

I think it's hard in the UK where we don't have such an ingrained culture of restauration. It's endemic in our society, and I'm still of the opinion that the British don't really like enjoying themselves too much, that it's almost embarrassing for us sometimes, to give in to something as "frivolous" as sheer pleasure.

And with that in mind, people (certainly round my way) don't tend to have the opportunity or perhaps willingness to go to a local place once or twice a month and make it their 'local', which is what I'd do if I wasn't here on the other side.

I'm becoming less and less bothered with the food guides, to be honest, and more and more intent on making sure I look at the visitors' book every day, and endeavouring to do *my* thing for *my* customers, not the guides. I know too many people who've driven themselves nuts (and seriously ill) by aiming for success beyond their means. That way lies danger.

[Margaret Pilgrim]

Stephen, it is my sorrow that eGullet doesn't bring us more names and reviews like your lovely description and excellent detail of Auberge Saint-Fleuret. This is precisely the kind of place that my husband and I try to ferret out. It takes me only minutes to create a list of starred dining and lodging for a given area, but hours and days to come up with small and charming not-yet-touted places like yours, assuming that I am lucky enough to come across them at all.

Many, many thanks, and do please continue to advise us of finds in your beautiful area. Bux is right in saying that there are obvious places to stay and to dine in that department, but I am beginning to think that Aveyron as a, say, weeklong, several stop destination would be an interesting thing to do. Again, thanks.

[Bux]

in the UK ... we don't have such an ingrained culture of restauration.

Such as we have here in the states.

I value your Veyrat post very much. Trust me, I've returned twice to read it thoroughly, but I think Magaret has summed up the value of this post quite well.

[Stephen Jackson]

Margaret, (and Bux) - thankyou for your kind words. I'm just passing on information really, like I'd pass on a good book if I thought other people would like it.

But for me, this holiday, I've had a 'scales falling from eyes' moment, I think.

Yes, I went to two (and just avoided three) very-highly-rated places in the space of four days, but their ratings didn't matter a jot in terms of my memories of the places I went to.

Of course, Veyrat was a night at the opera, and the Cour Des Loges was merely a warning not to go into such a place with wide gourmand eyes and accept everything put on my plate.

And therein lies my problem. At Veyrat, I was almost too intensely contemplating the food, that I had precious little time to actually 'enjoy' it. Yes, it was delicious, faultless even, but I felt at times, and certainly in retrospect, that I was concentrating on analysis rather than sheer physical emotion. Whereas, at the St. Fleuret, I had no preconceptions, no inkling of the style or content, and perhaps enjoyed the end result as much, if not more so.

Heavens, I love it when I get to pour my own wine, no matter how diligently I'm looked after by a sommelier (even Sergio Calderon at Michel Bras, who I now regard as a friend)

I think what I'm trying to say here (and forgive me, I'm outside of the best part of two bottles of Cotes de St. Mont!) is that this holiday, I learned to appreciate the moment almost as much as the food. The whole package. The food, the people, the company, the wines, the 'feel'. And when these elements combine effortlessly, it is absolutely magical. Veyrat was hilarious and excellent; a one-off, and the St. Fleuret may or may not be as good ever again. I reckon it will be. I hope it will....

Edited July 14, 2003 by Stephen Jackson (log)

[Bux]

two bottles of Cotes de St. Mont!

Funny you should mention Cotes de St. Mont. Not long ago, I was in a wine shop looking for some cheap wine for daily use. I had picked up some innocuous Alsatian pinot blancs and was looking at a Rueda. A salesman I know, saw what I was buying and came over to me with a bottle of Cotes de St. Mont saying it was really very good and one of the few things at that price worth his recommendation. I had never heard of the appellation, or is it a VDQS, but I took a bottle. Unfortunately I only took a bottle. We thoroughly enjoyed it and when I returned a week later, they were sold out. This was a white. Do they also make a red?

[Stephen Jackson]

Yes they do, and I had a very pleasant one in France, but I was on a brilliant crisp white, one of our house whites in fact. Like squeezing pink grapefruit juice down your throat. Yummy. We have an extrememly 'Regional French-heavy' list here at the Weavers Shed; I wonder why!

Edited July 14, 2003 by Stephen Jackson (log)

[annieb]

I am a complete neophyte to France, having returned from my first visit. But I come from a family of food and cooks and company. And on my first visit to France, was lucky enough to stay with friends who are working farmers in the Auvergne.

The food was excellent. The shopping. The company. But the food is a subject of conversation, mixed among others. And we are talking about great farmhouse food, homemade saucisson, pate, an assortment of cheese straight from local farms, vegetables picked daily from the market gardeners across the road.

We don't have the budget for "any stars", but did enjoy excellent meals in places like Laguiole, Albi, Castres, Narbonne, Carcassonne. In Castres especially, we had time to kill and sought out a restaurant, inspected the menu (love that custom, so much better than the yellowing restaurant review in the window we get here in Chicago), and plunged in. Spacious. Decently priced for value. Excellent food. Several tables of business associates. Several tables of elderly men eating alone.

This is the culture we don't have here.

[Margaret Pilgrim]

... I learned to appreciate the moment almost as much as the food. The whole package. The food, the people, the company, the wines, the 'feel'. And when these elements combine effortlessly, it is absolutely magical.

Stephen, you have just described what my husband and I look for when we travel. I couldn't describe it better myself. It is the sum of the evening that in the end you will remember. We have spent many too many meals expecting too much and leaving with feelings of having seen the emperor naked. It has taken me many years to learn to read between the lines and to calibrate reviews with their authors.

[Bux]

... we had time to kill and sought out a restaurant, inspected the menu (love that custom, so much better than the yellowing restaurant review in the window we get here in Chicago)...

This is the culture we don't have here.

I believe the law requires all restaurants to clearly post the menu, with prices, in front of the restaurant. I see it done from time to time in New York, but rarely at a "fine" restaurant. Nevertheless, I can think of popularly priced French restaurants that post the menu here.