St-Emilion: Wine. And other less interesting things.

When I first started this blog, it was a food blog only. I even had a separate travel blog for travel-related articles. Then, about three years ago, I noticed something: people actually reacted better to posts that combined both food and travel… and what’s more, they liked posts where I just talked about my life! (Still not too sure why… must be the voyeur in all of us.) I suppose that makes sense, seeing as I’m not a chef or food scientist; my insights into cooking may not be quite as interesting as my insights into things I do know extensively, such as travel. I do realize that many, if not most, of you are here for the food, but bear with me for the next few days. I have a couple more things to say about western France, before I get back to providing you with recipes.

I do, however, intend to talk at least a little bit about food today… not recipes, per se, but local specialties, namely St-Emilion, macarons and canelés.

But first… a little backstory. I mentioned yesterday that the Sous-Chef and I intended to visit St-Emilion on our trip to Bordeaux. After a little bit of Internet research, I discovered the bus-tram-bus-walking route that would get us to the tiny medieval town in the middle of the vineyards, and so we got up very, very early and started on our journey…

… in the pouring rain.

You can’t quite tell from the pictures exactly how horrid the weather was when we arrived. What started as intermittent drizzling became a torrential downpour that had us feigning interest in the handmade jewelry and clothes of a very expensive, créateur boutique, just to stay out of the rain. I started to wonder if we had made the right decision.

The rain started to let up a bit, so we poked around the small town anyway, making lemonade by telling one another how great it was to be the only tourists here, to have the whole town to ourselves.

It wasn’t entirely false. I had the cozy comfort of the Country Boy’s giant sweatshirt I had stolen before leaving Paziols, and the Sous-Chef was fairly well bundled as well, so once the rain stopped and we had only grey to contend with, exploring the town was quite pleasant. I especially loved this wine tasting facility in the midst of an old medieval structure.

Of course, we were even happier when, just as we started to get hungry, the sun peeked out. We pulled out our sandwiches (we developed a pretty easy routine of buying cheese, baguette and fruit, making sandwiches with a pocket knife in the hotel, and carrying them with us to our destinations. I’ve never eaten so much cheese in my life. [That’s a bold-faced lie.]) and found a pretty bench to sit on overlooking the vineyards.

And then we had dessert. Two specialties of the region: cannelés, from Bordeaux, and these macarons, from St-Emilion, traditionally made simply from egg whites, sugar and almond flour. We scoured the dozens of boutiques selling these until we found one we liked, and then we purchased a box of macarons and two piping hot cannelés, just out of the oven. The latter were devoured right away, without even pausing to take a picture. (Sorry, friends). If you’ve never had a cannelé, you must: there’s nothing that rivals the soft, eggy interior, surrounded by caramelized crust. And you can’t make them nearly as well at home: I’m convinced it has something to do with the molds they’ve been using for generations.

The macarons were quite good as well, without being nearly as life-changing. The Sous-Chef and I came to the following conclusion: cannelés are the sort of thing where you eat one, find it delicious, eat another, start to feel gross, eat 12, and wonder why you started binge-eating cannelés and how long before you stop feeling like you just ate a block of butter. Macarons are the sort of thing that you can eat 100 of without noticing.

When we’d finished our lunch, we started exploring the town. It’s not very large, but we arrived at 10ish and weren’t set to leave until 5, so we had plenty of time to see everything.

Fresh from Paziols, when we encountered a medieval thing to climb, not climbing it wasn’t even an option. In Paziols, we’re pretty big on climbing medieval things.

This particular medieval thing was a tower with incredible views of the town and the vineyards beyond it. For awhile, the Sous-Chef and I just sat at the top of the tower, people-watching as families with young children climbed to the top and looked out over the tops of the buildings. I wondered what sort of parent would bring their child to such a place, especially considering the activities of the rest of our afternoon.

For those of you who don’t know Bordeaux wine all that well, St-Emilion is the name of a town in the region that is perhaps the most famous for its wine. St-Emilion on a wine list in France will easily be double the cost of another Bordeaux wine, with nearby Pommery at the most expensive. The Sous-Chef and I were eager to find a wineseller that would allow us to do a tasting, and we found one not too far from the tower, where I purchased a half-case to be delivered to my home. I love when places deliver… especially such exciting deliveries.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with wandering and writing, as has become our MO. By the time our bus arrived to take us back to Bordeaux, we were ready to leave the small town: it may be filled with wine, but it’s also filled with tourists and exorbitant prices. Still, I’m glad to have gotten the chance to visit, and of course to see a wine region a bit different from the one I know and love in the Fitou.

The Sous-Chef also at a cookie the size of her head.