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It rained heavily last night and it's still drizzly when the workers arrive but when we are ready to leave only the dog is around to say goodbye. We have around 170 miles to go today but most of it is dual carriageway and the traffic is fairly light except around Nantes and Rennes.
North of Nantes the rain stopped and it got brighter by lunchtime. We stopped in Caulnes and got some bits in Intermarche then went to the nearby aire and made lunch. The aire is in a park next to the old public washing pool with its timber pillar and tile roof cover. While here we slop out and refill fresh water using a Flot Bleu terminal like the one we couldn't get to work on our first day travelling. Such progress, qualified travellers now we are!
Our journey continues into familiar Brittany, rolling fields, stone walled buildings, steep slate rooves and crops everywhere but no vines, we comment that we're vined out by now anyway.
En route Ali rings ahead to reserve a table for this evening at the auberge and cidre farm that will be our last Passion (and last stop). We learn they serve a traditional Breton menu.
We arrive at 16:20 and unwind from two long journeys then go to the restaurant. Blue window-frames, geraniums, buff tiled floors and bottles of cidre with corks; where else could we be. There was a time, after a number of holidays here when we thought we'd tired of Brittany. But even after our recent, major tour of France it still manages to charm us with its character.
Madame's English and our French are of similar standard so we converse in a mixture of both, it works well and is fun. Their single menu speciality is Kig ha Farz, which she explains is vegetable soup, roasted meat with accompaniments and dessert.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kig_ha_farz
We start with Kir Breton, wich is Breton cidre with creme de Cassis, (Ali says she didn't get any creme de Cassis when we were in Casis and could we go back to get some), and we have a bottle of cidre to go with the meal. With the kir comes an amuse-bouche (appetiser), a small glass of cauliflower cream.
Next the soup arrives, in a saucepan placed in the middle of the table. Carrot, cabbage, cauliflower leaves in a rich broth that can only be described as tasting of the land. We have two large bowlfuls each and the pan isn't empty.
The main course is laid before us. A bowl full of pig-meat, knuckle, bacon, sausage and more cabage and carrot; another bowl with far blanc (a bit like suet pudding) and far-noir (a bit like chicken-liver stuffing) and finally soft onions in a cream and butter sauce. We might not know what kig ha means, but we're bound to get the farz!
It's all delicious and more than we can eat, but there's more; ice-cream with honey and biscuites fabrique en maison or homemade biscuits. The other diners, two men and a party of twelve, all get the same.
After coffee we spend time chatting in Englench or Franglish and learn that the auberge name, Le Puits de Jeanne means the wells of Jeanne. In the bar is the bucket and chain to the well with a picture of Jeanne, the great-grandmother whose recipe they use.
Back in the van we agree it was a fabulous way to spend our last night and resolve to look out for more auberge passions next time.
Our last night is a deep blue sky with bright stars and quarter moon, and not a sound to be heard outside. Ali can't sleep sees the International Space Station make a long pass through Orion.
- comments
dicamus The main course beats my pork belly from Morissons!