Mirepoix

The houses are half-timbered and sort of on stilts.

Today Jason took Bob and Chris and me to Mirepoix for the Monday market. We had a stroke of good luck in that it wasn't raining and it seemed warmer than it had been over the weekend.  We got an early start so as to allow plenty of time to peruse the wares in the market and explore the medieval town.  

Mirepoix is colorful, and the market is centered around the square which backs up on to the church grounds.

The central square with the church standing guard

Jason happened upon some friends who told us that that market was a little smaller today than it normally is, but it still looked plenty lively to me. The very first vendor we encountered was selling dishes, and that is always a dangerous place for me to be.  But, I am heading up to Paris this week, so I saved my centimes for that trip.  I have enough dishes here, really.  Unless I find a bowl or two at Galleries Lafayette....

Change the dress, take out the vehicles and step back in time.

Mirepoix is an old bastide town built around a cathedral.  As we walked along the lanes of stalls and covered booths, I got this strong sense of continuity;  for hundreds of years, merchants and vendors have been setting up booths to provide goods to the community.  The methods of getting the buyers and sellers to the spot have changed, but I'll bet that a time traveler from 1513 would recognize most of the fruits and vegetables, and some of the wares.  Knives are knives....and the basic shape of jewelry hasn't changed all that much.  There was something anchoring about being there.  I felt about it the same way I feel about singing the music of the ages-like I have joined a great long line of people doing the same thing--being connected by the same experience. 

Our ancestors would recognize this, don't you think?

I bought some apples--I was unfamiliar with the variety. Little, gnarled and anything but uniform, they are the antithesis of the perfectly colored, perfectly formed tasteless fruit of the supermarket.  I asked the lady if they were for eating or for cooking--for une tarte--and she told me in no uncertain terms that they were for eating and don't try to cook with them.  

I remember the big galvanized milk cans

I also bought a little piece of cheese from the vendor who promised cheese from the Pyrenees.  I told her that I was completely ignorant about cheese, but she was very patient.  She knew the English words for sheep, goat and cow, but little else.  Nonetheless, we managed a delightful conversation and I made my purchase.  I had a little of it with one of my apples for dinner.  Delicious.

Dried fruits and nuts haven't changed much in centuries

The proprietress here was very helpful.

I got a slice of the cheese at the far right end of her display.

Our lunch destination

Jason knew of a little auberge where we could have lunch.  It looked closed, but he had called ahead to make sure that it was indeed open.  Although this area is filled with tourists in the summer, it looked pretty deserted in this off-season. 

We had the three course lunch.  Delicious.  Chris and I had the pea soup and Jason and Bob had the onion tart with a slice of cheese.  The soup was delicious, with truffle oil, I think and something in there gave the finish a bit of heat.  I think the  idea of offering a limited selection of well prepared food at a fixed price is so smart. 

The onion tarte

Pea Soup with Smoked Bacon

Jason had the fish entree and the rest of us had the roast pork.

Jason's fish.  Note the arrangement of the potatoes....presentation is very important

Roast pork, vegetables and potatoes...oh yum

All plates were wiped clean. They thoughtfully provide baskets of baguettes just for that purpose, I think. 

Once again, it was good company, and interesting conversation provided by thoughtful companions that really made this lunch extra special.  Yes, the food was wonderful, but it is the lunch experience that I most enjoyed.

Chris photographing Bob's poire. 

For dessert, Bob chose the special of the day--a pear poached in Armagnac with some creme Anglaise (I think) and the rest of our merry band had apple tarte with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.  It was not like apple pie a la mode in the US, believe me.  We took photographs of our meal, obviously, and I didn't even care that they thought we were tourists. We ARE tourists, but I don't think we are typical tourists.

Apple tarte

After we finished our lunch we took off for Montsegur.  I can write about Mirepoix now, and about our delicious lunch, but I am still processing my Montsegur experience.  It affected me very profoundly, and I am still examining my reaction.  I will give you a little preview--but I will save the words for later. 

Snow in the Pyrenees on the way to Montsegur