Foie Gras Country

In the early spring of this year, I visited my very good friends Marc and Ofelia (nee Gelvezon, the artist) Tequi in their 19 th century arrondisement flat in Paris, where a fantastic thrice-weekly wet market in their Place des Fetes plaza, just outside the building. It’s amazing how little has changed since the first time I went there in 1979 – the same neighborhood boulangerie was there, so was the tabac, the café, a drugstore, and of course what Parisian neighborhood would be without a Monoprix supermarché. However the present one was much bigger and better, the choices of cheeses and sausages alone was mind-boggling. Nakakataranta at nakakabaliw!

On my first visit , I remembered the time when I volunteered to prepare dinner at Chez Tequi, with no less than our then Ambassador Philip Mabilangan and gracious wife Ada as guests. I was at that time into my "exotic oriental" phase, and because of Ofie’s well-stocked pantry (she herself being a handy chef), I had no problem with most of the condiments needed. On the appointed day, Ofie and I scoured around the wet market downstairs, looking for what was available that day. Eyeing the big fat salmon (which was still a rarity in Manila then), I had the inspiration of doing a hot-pot fish head soup, using mainly the salmon’s head and its bones to make the broth. Ofie asked the fishmonger for the parts we wanted and she simply gave it to us, gratis et amore, as Ofie is a familiar and regular costumer of hers. (Little did I know that the head, bones and skin are just thrown away, with the salmon sold by the weight either in fillet slabs or tranches or steaks cut crosswise).

But that’s only half of the story. I also needed some chicken feet, to make a Thai-inspired cold dish of crunchy gelatinous feet as appetizer. As we got to the poultry section, Ofie explained to the vendor what we wanted. In typical French fashion, the man simply shrugged, and with a quizzical (even horrified perhaps) look on his face, pointed to the trash bin and admonished "Servez vous!" (translation: Help yourselves, at your own risk!) I had to literally rummage for those precious little feet, feeling a little shamed while doing so. I imagined, through the Frenchman’s eyes, I must be one of those newly arrived penniless boat people. To make the long story short, the dinner that night was a raving success, making all the humiliation I experienced earlier that day worthwhile. On hindsight, we all had a good laugh and a good story to tell.

Going back to my visit early this year, the wet market is still there all right, but it has become much bigger, spilling into the pavement for the dry goods section. Oh yes, the fishmongers are still at it, but this time they don’t give away the fish heads for free, as there has been quite a demand for it by the growing Oriental community within the area. And, I was told, those precious chicken feet have walked up a bit on the social ladder – they are now sold at Oriental stores! But, just like my first visit, I was as awed and bewildered at the variety and quality of produce being sold in the wet market.

Southwest Comforts

After several days of wandering around the city to my old haunts and museum visits, and a day at the Foire de Paris with cousin Roy Gonzales and Jean Yves Daniel (the Foire in itself is a must visit!), I joined Marc and Ofie (and their pet dog Walter) drive to their 18th century country house in Limeuil (pronounced Li-moy), Dordogne, some 500 kilometers southwest of Paris. The six-hour drive was smooth and memorable. Past the autoroute, it narrowed down to country roads, winding through villages, castles and town cathedrals.

Actually, my stay with the Tequis was timed for this long weekend break in their country house, which they had bought and started restoring some fifteen years ago. Although I’ve never had the chance to see it firsthand, Ofie had always updated me of its progress during her yearly pilgrimage to Manila and my home in Angeles. And so, it was with much anticipation I was joining them in this trip. After all, Limeuil is right in the heart of Perigord Noir – the home of foie gras (duck liver), magret (duck breast "steaks"), confit de canard (preserved duck), truffles and cépes (underbrush mushrooms). In simple terms: a gourmet’s paradise.

Time stands still at Limeuil. Situated on a hill by the riverbanks where the Dordogne and Verzére rivers meet, this peaceful quaint little village of stone houses and winding streets date as far back as the 12th century. It has been declared as one of 148 most beautiful villages of France and designated as a "Monument Historique." The locals and would-be-residents must conform with national ordinances of preserving houses in their original and authentic state. The exteriors of all the houses and shops remain as they always have been. But, behind this ancient façade, this village is up-to-date with modern conveniences. It has been electrified, heated, plumbed with hot and cold water, and connected to the world by telephone, cable television and the Internet.

During our five-day stay there, I’ve had the chance to witness for myself why Marc and Ofie fell so much in love with the place – the tranquility of the medieval surrounding, steeped deep in history; the very friendly neighbors; the clean air; the good food and wine all contribute to its restorative power. It’s no wonder the Tequis call it their "Paradise Found." And, all within an hour’s drive from Limeuil, we explored other medieval villages, flea markets, and had wine tasting tours in St. Emilion and Bergerac areas. It was such a heady experience, to say the least.

That Sunday morning, after meandering in the flea market in Le Bugue, a town some 7 km away, we went back with a bagful of goodies enough to feed an army. Well, this was supposed to be our provision for the next several days, we assured ourselves. Over lunch, we had a simple repast (by Ofie’s standards, at least – meaning uncomplicated preparations) of country bread, goat’s cheese, duck breasts roasted slowly over the fireplace with an improvised griller, green salad and a homemade fruit tart that was also bought from the market. All this, coupled with the most congenial hosts, over bottles of Monbazillac and a red Bergerac, made a most memorable lunch. Memories of my short stay there still linger in my mind to this day.

Southwest France In Manila

Having been introduced to southwest France wines by the Tequis, I got particularly hooked with Monbazillac (a sweet white wine, with a velvety and honey aroma), Pineau de Charentes (a blend of cognac and grape must) and Bergerac red wine. So much so, that on my way home, I had to hand-carry with me two bottles of each wine. Needless to say, my jetlag lasted longer than the bottles’ contents. Desperate, I went around the wine shops in Manila asking for the three. Nobody has heard of them. All that was available is the Sauterne, Monbazillac’s more affluent relation, which I find a bit heavy (syrupy), not to mention a bit pricey, too. I was all too resigned not having any of the above. Until the next French visit, all I could was console myself.

My wish, though, came true sooner than I thought. Just last week, Mary Ann and I were invited to the Foie Gras festival press luncheon at the Prince Albert Rotisserie of the Hotel Inter-Continental Manila.

As Chef Cyrille Soenen was busy preparing his delectable in the kitchen, the amiable Jenny Peña and guest sommelier Jerome Philippon took over as hosts, making sure everything was in order. Over an aperitif of a red Cuvee Guillaume 2000 (winner, Medaille d’Or Paris 2002), there was an animated talk with the other guests (fellow foodie and good friend Mickey Fenix, fellow Philippine Star columnist Maurice Arcache and friends Linda Oledan and Carla Tengco) about the wonders of our shared admiration with Shanghai.

Initially, my interest focused mainly on the degustation we were about to have, as I normally do not want to drink at lunchtime. My attention was divided between Maurice’s funny anecdotes and the menu. But, in between that, sommelier Philippon was giving a discourse on the merits of the wines he was about to serve us. So, can you imagine the fix I was in? After a sip or two of the aperetif, everything else became a babble.

Until……. Philippon said a word that sounded like magic to my ears:

Monbazillac! My eyes lit up upon hearing this word – he finally got an audience’s undivided attention.

Jerome Philippon is here representing the wine company Sommelier Selection (telephone 822-5583, email: jeromfphilippon@mac.com) to promote wines from little known vineyards from the southwest of France. He says these products are the real testament that a wine need not be expensive or have a well-known label to provide a high level of satisfaction. They are inexpensive, yet one gets very good value for money. (How true, during my stay with the Tequis in Limieul, we didn’t spend more than $10 for a goo bottle of wine, especially if bought directly from a vineyard.)

Finally, Chef Cyrille came with our first course — a ravioli of duck liver and cepe mushroom immersed in a delicate chicken consommé scented with truffle oil. The dry red Cuvee Guillaume 2000 (ample and smooth in the mouth) was a perfect accompaniment. But before anybody could even say cheese, each of us was served a sampling of four foie gras dishes in a platter – the chef’s signature fried lumpia, a pan-fried foie gras with a mango and blueberry compote, a siomai stuffed with duck breast and liver, and a cold terrine. Philippon paired the hot delectable with a dry white Heritage 2000 (elegant and intense peach with a vanilla aroma) while for the terrine and pan-fried foie gras, a Tradition 2000 Domaine du Petit Paris Monbazillac was served (fabulous golden color with strong honey and peach aromas). Its sweetness was a nice foil to the rich buttery taste of the foie gras.

As for the other guests, they were more animated as before (from the wine) and heady (from the all the foie gras) at this point. Amidst giggles, Carla thought that her face would fall flat on the plate. Mary Ann was seeing Maurice with three moustaches. Drink some water, advised Linda to the ladies. And true enough, after heeding her advice, we were ready for the finale – more foie gras, this time served in a papillote (paper wrapped) with apples, bacon, mushrooms and new potatoes. It was exquisite, especially paired with a red 1998 Vieilles Vignes Domaine Sergent (robust, powerful palate combing spices fruits and wood). Mercifully, the luncheon came to an end with a mango butter cake, which to my taste, was rather heavy after a meal like that. A light sorbet would have sufficed. But I am not complaining, mind you.

Just before leaving, I inquired sommelier Philippon about the prices of his wines. To my great surprise, they were reasonably priced. The Monbazillac I am crazy about costs P750/bottle (plus 10 percent vat), while the red Cuvee Guillaume 2000, P620. Needless to say, Mary Ann and I went home that day lugging half a dozen bottles each. Come to think of it, we got a whiff of southwest France right here in Manila. At least, that should tide me over till the next visit to Dordogne.

Catch the Variations on Foie Gras at the Prince Albert until November 23.