The Return of La Maison

Looking for a Great Meal?  Try This Unique Dining Experience

Living in the Languedoc we are surrounded by an astonishingly lush landscape with an abundance of fresh local products. Luckily we also have many restaurants that make exciting use of our natural abundance and to that list of great restaurants add La Maison. Located in the charming village of Tourbes on the outskirts of Pézenas. It has been a part a focus of Tourbain life for decades and now it has reopened under new management. Guided by the culinary skill of Chef Damian Martin and the solid management experience of his wife Florence, the new La Maison is sure to find its place at the top of the Languedoc’s fine dining list.

Damian and Florence bought the restaurant from its former owners Aurelien and Adeline Houyez and after remodeling re-opened it in late April. They work as a team with Chef Damian running the kitchen while Florence manages the front of the house and coordinates the restaurant’s chambre d’hotes rooms. As the welcoming ‘face’ of La Maison, Florence’s warmth and professionalism--as well as her fluency in French and English--clearly puts guests at ease. “I love meeting people and my work is enhanced by doing my best to ensure that all our customers have a pleasant experience, “she told me. 

The La Maison experience begins with your first bite; the cuisine is inventive, surprisingand daring. Damian riffs on conventional cooking formulas and like a jazz musician drawing on his broad experience guided by intelligence, he spins the spicing or introduces an unexpected ingredient to make something familiar altogether new.

At the heart of Damian’s approach is his short menu. 

Offering just a few dishes allows him to concentrate on each dish and to best express his creativity. Working with the day’s freshest ingredients-red tuna brought to him by a local fisherman or lamb from the Averyon-- he produces his day's fishes. But this pursuit of quality products necessitates a menu offering just two or three entrees, two or three plates and a few desserts. There are no frozen or chilled standby dishes waiting for reheating in the microwave. By limiting the menu Damian can better focus on every dish that leaves his kitchen.

It has been a long journey to La Maison for the Martins. Damian was born in Galway on Ireland’s rugged West coast and grew up in a family immersed in the food trade. “ My father was a butcher and passionately taught me this art,” he explains.”I proudly worked as a butcher for 6 six years before embarking on my culinary apprenticeship. It was at this point I realised my destiny to dedicate my working life to the culinary arts.” 

After receiving his initial culinary training and certification in Galway Damian promptly set off to travel the world and hone his skills, a journey that took him across Asia and Europe. 

Florence comes from a small village in the Averyon and grew up in the restaurant trade. “ My mother worked in our local restaurant and on many occasions I helped her with village fetes and weddings. This was my learning block for organising and delivering quality service.” After receiving her diploma in hospitality, Florence moved to Plymouth, England and a few years later moved to Dublin.

Damian returned to Ireland in 1998 he found work in one of Dublin's finest dining establishments and that is where he met Florence. They fell in love and after many years in Dublin decided to move to Florence’s native Averyon. While Damian worked at local restaurants, Florence got a job with one of France’s top chefs, Michel Bras at his Michelin three-star restaurant Bras, in Aubrac. The couple got to know Bras and Damian recalls that he was touched by the great man’s “simplicity and kindness.” 

Their training and experience shines through at La Maison. Damian’s commitment to quality has paid off and since its opening has developed a loyal following simply by word of mouth recommendations. My wife and I have dined at La Maison manyl times and whether we had fish or meat dishes; everything was superbly prepared and scrumptious. I photographed many of the dishes we had to give readers some idea of Chef Damian’s output.  

Damian Martin says that he has a goal of making his culinary “mark” with La Maison. Judging by the reception he’s gotten so far he’s well on his way to achieving his goal.

La Maison

Restaurant and Chambre d’Hotes

9 Avenue de la Gare

34120 Tourbes

 

Hours: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday Lunch service 12h-14h

           Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Lunch 12h-15h, Dinner 19.30h-21h

           Closed Wednesdays.

 

Dinner menu 30€

 

Reservations are definitely advisable: 04.67.98.86.95

email contact@restaurant-lamaison.fr

Website: www.restaurant-lamaison.fr

 

Souvenirs d’ombre et lumière

Souvenirs d’ombre et lumière 

--Memories of shadow and light--

 photographies de Steve Meltzer 

Je suis blasé, fatigué de mes photographies, épuisé par ces moments décisifs, leurs couleurs vives et leur insistance sur la vérité. Leurs détails, et leurs respects méticuleux du monde réel émoussent mon imagination, tel un rasoir qui tranche à travers mes yeux. Tout… a été révélé et rien.

Photographies à la recherche de la perfection - nus gracieux, insectes monstrueux, palmiers, plages, visages étrangers, champs de fleurs, couchers de soleil et jeux d’enfants  - ont toutes été des clichés bien avant mes prises de vue. Les «idées reçues» du visuel ont simplement servi à renforcer les attentes et les croyances des spectateurs sur un univers reconnu de la «beauté».

L’ennui qui m'a poussé à me risquer, à rompre avec mes méthodes établies et mes longues habitudes m’a fait réaliser ces images. Pour cela j’ai utilisé une lentille trou d’épingle (sans verre) sur mon appareil numérique. Cette «lentille» laisse passer la lumière à travers un minuscule trou. Non modifiée par l'optique du verre, la lumière tombe sur le sensor de l’appareil en laissant sur ces images sa signature.

En violant les règles de la netteté, de la couleur, et de la fidélité qui sont la norme dans la photographie moderne, ces images deviennent complexes. Elles racontent des histoires incomplètes dont le récit est mystérieux. Elles suggèrent, mais laissent le spectateur libre de son interprétation.

Ces souvenirs d’ombres et lumières sont des énigmes attractives qui séduisent l'œil et le leurrent, peut-être pour stimuler l'imagination.

I had grown tired of my photographs, exhausted by their decisive moments, their brilliant colors, and their insistence on “truth.” Their detail and their meticulous adherence to the real world dulled my imagination, like a razor slashed across my eyes. Everything was revealed and yet nothing was revealed.

Images in whose perfection--graceful nudes, monstrous insects, palm trees, beaches, foreign faces, fields of flowers, sunsets and children at play--were all clichés long before my shutter snapped. Visual “received wisdom” they served to reinforce the viewers’ expectations and beliefs about a knowable universe of “beauty.” 

Ennui drove me to risk, to break with long established methods and habits. I made these images with a glassless “pinhole lens” on my camera. The “lens” passes light unmodified onto the camera sensor leaving these images as its signature.

By violating the rules of the norm --sharpness, color and fidelity--these images become difficult. They are incomplete stories whose narratives are mysterious. They suggest but do not indicate. They are memories of light and shadow, enigmas that seduce the eye and luring it in perhaps stir the imagination.

Le Sud de France 6.4 : Journées Taurines, the Days of Bulls

The young men stood nervously rocking on the balls of their feet, waiting for the riders and horses. The long allée of plane trees leading into the heart of the village was full of people. New parents pushed strollers, old folks walked slowly with canes and teenagers gossiped ceaselessly on their mobiles. Every one of them passing easily through the tall red, steel barriers that had been erected along the allée. They chatted and laughed in the street, oblivious to the danger the young men next to them were anticipating.

The gardiens are France's cowboys

In the distance, from the direction of the village recycling bins, came the clacking of hooves on hard asphalt. Within seconds, the young men could see the Camargue gardiens and their graceful white horses turning the corner and racing down towards them. The tightly packed horses surrounded something, something dark and foreboding. In a ghostlike blur, they flew passed the young men. Just visible between the horse’s flanks were two black bulls.

After several circuits of the village the bulls are tired and can be caught up with.

The youths took off after them, running as fast as they could. They tried to catch the bulls and a few got close enough to grab an animal’s tail for a few seconds, but most did not. In frustration, some of the young men shouted out at the rapidly disappearing animals.

“When I catch you, you lousy son-of–a-cow, I will turn into a McBurger!”

The young men show their cajones.

“Hola bull, I had your sister for dinner. Nice steaks, she tasted great! I’m waiting for you.”

Then, winded and sweating, the young men stopped and bent over to catch their breaths to the scattered applause of a few friends. For those who touched the bulls’ tails there was visible elation.

Welcome to our village’s “Journées Taurines” or “Days of Bulls.”

We are located in the Herault, halfway between Spain and the cattle ranches of the Camargue. Raising bulls and bullfighting is a tradition in the Languedoc and many cities have arenes (arenas). The larger venues, like Nîmes, Carcassone and Béziers, are part of the “corrida” circuit that the toreros travel each year. While bullfighting may be a controversial sport, with its ardent supporters and equally ardent detractors, the Journées Taurines is not a bullfight at worst it is bull annoyance.

The bull running began Saturday and continued on Sunday. The first year the event was held one of the organizers stepped out in front of a bull and taunted it. The taurine was not impressed and flung the man into the air, a moment immortalized on YouTube.

Thinking of breaking out?

Thereafter crowd control and public safety became a big concern. This year along the Avenue de la Gare, the tree lined road that leads into town, the village workers erected heavy, red steel barriers. About two meters tall, there was enough room between the bars to allow people to pass through them, but not enough space for a large animal. However, there was a glitch in this security arrangement. No one cared that you were supposed to stay behind the bars. People just passed through them and continued on their merry way, as though nothing were going on. The event announcer kept telling people to stay back behind the barriers but no one seemed to pay any attention to him except for the local band, Fanfare Banzai. They wisely sat well back from the barriers and played their music from the terrace of a nearby restaurant.

This old guy threw his hat at the bulls to get them to run faster.

The horses and bulls made a wide circuit down the allée and around through the fields. Each time they came down the Avenue, the crowd stepped aside to make room for them and cheered a little, then just as quickly stepped back out into the street.

As the village photojournalist, I loaded up my professional gear, long lenses and all and covered the “action.” And, there I stood out in the middle of the street, cameras at the ready, ignoring the taunts and the warnings of several British friends who shouted from behind the barriers.

Fanfare Banzai played from the safety of the restaurant.

Even Diane added to the chorus, begging me to come back to safety.

“No,” I said proudly, “I am a photojournalist and my job is to get the photos.”

My sang froid rising, I added, “I’ll be okay because I will stand next to this old lady and her two little granddaughters. Surely, not even an angry bull would harm a child or the photographer standing behind her.”

Then I heard the sounds of the approaching horses and I began to have some misgivings about my plan. Luckily, the little girl looked up at me and smiled.

The horses flew by us and I hurriedly snapped frame after frame. Most of these shots, of course, were photos of the rear ends of horses, young men, and bulls. No, Pulitzer there. Clearly this event would not rise to level of an Ernest Hemingway bullfight, there was not even going to be a broken arm much less a Death in this Afternoon.

After a lot of taunting this taurine chased a kid across the arena. 

Then I realized what the village’s little secret was. These bulls were rather young. Imagine if you will as one year old, sweet, and gentle Ferdinand the Bulls, rather than some sort of steamrollers of death. As herd animals they ran, dare I say, happily in the safety of the horses? 

Notice how small the bull is.

Moreover, unlike Pamplona where the bulls chase the people, in Tourbes people chase the bulls and try to catch up with them. Sure, these frisky steers could hurt you but you literally have to get in their faces to do it, as that event organizer did in that first running. Cattle are nearsighted, that is why toreros use red capes to get their attention, to get hurt you have to get in their way.

A log day of running bulls draws to a close.

“Gardiens,” the cattle ranchers from the Camargue marshes of the Rhone, operate these bull runnings all around the region. They are in control of the animals and having raised them are aware of each one’s mood and attitude. I’ve written about the gardiens before. These are the French cowboys who at the turn of the 19^th century hosted Buffalo Bill Cody and his Wild West Show when they were forced by bad weather to spend a winter camped in the Camargue. The gardiens learned a lot about riding and roping from the cowboys and adopted both American style saddles and clothing.

People without barriers watch the loose bulls.

Although the weekend went well and there were only minor injuries, some question remains about whether or not there will be a Journées Taurines next year. While the bulls were well behaved, the people were not. With dozens of people milling about oblivious to the bulls, horses and men racing by, it was an injury lawyer’s dream and an insurer’s nightmare.

Most people totally ignored the barriers. The bulls, on the other hand, recognizing the danger these people posed, wisely sought shelter with the riders and horses. Facing the horde of reckless moms, wandering children and incautious grannies, that was the smart thing to do. In their hooves, I would have done the same.

Le Sud de France 6.1: Hot Time, Summer in the Herault

They’re here!!!

A family heading to the beach.

Summer and the autoroutes of the Herault are teeming with the rattled masses of Europe yearning to get warm. There are daily reports of hundred kilometer long traffic jams as the population of the EU melts southward to the Mediterranean beaches. The Herault is overflowing with tourists-- up 6% over last year report the tourism people. Sadly, restaurants and local businesses say that despite that sales are down 30-50%. While more people are heading to the Herault, they have less money to spend because of the lingering economic crisis. Many tourists even come with their own food and stay in their camper vans at public campsites near the beach to cut their costs. It's a shame if they just stay at the beaches because there is lot to see and do in the Herault and much of it is inexpensive or free.  

The Butte de Leves near the village of Faugeres

The Herault has one of the most remarkable and varied natural environments imaginable. About the size of the American state of Delaware, it has an interior landscape of thousands of square kilometers of vineyards and long, straight rows of vines, framed by rugged mountains to the north and long, sandy, beaches on the Mediterranean to in the south.

The village of Roquebrun sits above the Orb

The Haut-Languedoc Natural Park, in the north of the Herault, is a large mountainous (the “Monts de Espinouse”) area that is a favorite of campers and hikers. It is an expanse of mountain lakes and forests, trails and camping sites, comparable to American national parks like Washington’s Cascades Mountains. One of the many entrance points for visitors to the park is the small village of Roquebrun, a lovely collection of stones houses perched above the Orb River. Down river from Roquebrun, the Orb narrows and becomes a series of rapids that are a favorite challenge for kayakers from all over Europe.

The Cirque de Moureze

The Cirque de Moureze with landscape of strange dolomite rock formations is another natural wonder of the Park. There are a number of hiking trails through the Cirque that range from an easy hour’s walk to a hard, ten-hour trek. Best of all the Cirque is only a few minutes from the bustling town of Clermont l’Herault. Further north, towards the eastern side of the Herault, is the Tarn River Gorge, a spectacular series of canyons and cliffs carved by the river as it flows south to the Mediterranean. The only cost to a visit to these natural wonders is the price of gas.

In the southern Herault is the Herault is the Bassin du Thau, a huge saltwater lake that it is the heart of the area’s mussel and oyster farming industry. The Bassin lies on the Med and has a ten kilometer long sandbar of beaches along its seaside. Unfortunately, by early summer, the sandbar is packed with the camper vans and huge RVs of the European middle class. The line up of hundreds of TV satellite dishes next to the camper vans makes the sandbar look like Cape Canaveral before a shuttle launch.

a dolomite formation

The mussel and oyster farms of the Bassin du Thau

At the western end of the Bassin is Le Cap d’Agde, a resort town that looks a lot like South Beach. As the locals tell it, if you want to experience a good old fashion Roman orgy, nothing matches the antics of the folks of Le Cap d’Agde. From private clubs to “naturalist” beaches it is a playground for the suburban European working class looking for a very good time.

And speaking of the Romans, they settled here over a thousand years ago and left their mark all over the Herault. They introduced wine and olive cultivation to the region and built bridges, roads and villas, much of which survives today. Near the village of St.Thibery, for instance, there is a lovely old Roman bridge spanning the Herault River and further south near the village of Loupian there is a preserved Gallo-Roman villa.

Sand fills the Orb river at Valras-Plage after a storm, turning it yellow.

The Jardin St.Adrien near the town of Servian

Another beach town, one of our favorites, is a far calmer place than Le Cap d’Agde. Valras-Plage is an old-fashioned seaside town with a long sandy beach and a beachside “boardwalk” lined with cafés, restaurants, and beach clothing shops.

The actor Gilles Buonomo performing

Another surprisingly big part of life in the Herault is art and culture. With a total population of less than a million people, it is a surprise that so much music, theatre, and art can be supported here. Montpellier is the capital of the Herault and it is considered by many France’s “third City” after Marseille and Paris. Each year it has a ballet festival, classical music performances, and art exhibitions. The city’s municipal museum is currently showing the photographs of Brassai, one of my personal icons.

About 25 kilometers southwest of Montpellier is another seaside town, one I’ve already written about, called Sète. In July, the town goes water jousting mad as rower powered boats race towards each other carrying jousters with lances, who try to knock each other into the water. For a more serene activity, the museum in Sète is showing the works of Joan Miro this summer, should you need a break from the sportive types.

Calderoni sings in Pezenas

I’ve  written about Pézenas, the town we live next door to in pieces like “A Passion for Pézenas” and “Searching for the Moon and Molière.” It is a small town with only about 8500 inhabitants and yet its arts and cultural programs are extraordinary. The town has a small, elegant Molière museum, the Museum de Vulliod-Saint-Germain, which is an old mansion that was donated to the town by its wealthy owners. It has a wonderful performance space with superb acoustics for concerts. In the last few weeks, we attended two concerts there. One was an “a capella” performance of lyric opera songs by an extraordinary soprano named Kamala Calderoni, who I may add is originally from San Francisco, and a second a concert of violin and cello duets by a couple of Irish musicians, The Duo Chagall.

A fete du vin 

Summer activates in Herault aren’t just these events but include hundreds of small village fêtes. For example in our little village of only  1500 people we have had  since June 1^st ; a “fête du vin,” a poetry and theater fête, a music fête, three wine tastings at the caveau (the wine co-op), a motorcycle and old American car rally, a regional judo championship, a monster car and truck show, a three day village fête (including dinner for the entire village on our street) and an event that involved children pushing young bulls into plastic swimming pools (please, do not ask.)

at the poetry fete

After all of this the village takes a small break and resumes it activity in September with the 3^rd Annual “running of the bulls” through the ancient, narrow streets of our tiny village. It is an event you cannot miss because the  bulls run right past your front door.

A little scary yes, but hey, it’s all part of summer in the Herault. 

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Le Sud de France 5.5 : The Chateau Abbaye de Cassan.

Goats

It is Spring in the Herault and the grapes are growing, the goats are kidding and the karaokes are singing. On the bright side of life, Carla Bruni is complaining that Sarko is ruining her "career" but on the downside of things, it was a rainy Easter weekend. We were determined to get out of the house and since it was a dark and stormy day, we had to look for something to do indoors. 

Fresh Ginger root at the foire

Turns out that just up the road from us, in a very old chateau, there was a “foire de saveurs et odeurs.” That is French for a “flavors and smells fair” which sounds much tastier to my ears than the American “food fair.” It was held at the Chateau Abbaye de Cassan near the town of Roujan and we decided that it’s just the thing we needed to brighten up a gray day.

Charlemagne

History envelops and embraces you in the Herault and the Chateau-Abbaye is a good example of that. Back in the first to fourth centuries the Languedoc was called “Septimania,” which does not refer to an XXX rated movie “Seven Maniacs,” but rather to veterans of the Roman VIIth Legion who conquered most of this area and settled here. They took possession of the Languedoc from Narbonne to the Rhone. The Chateau site was originally a  Gallo-Roman outpost dating from about the 4^th century  and then in 805 A.D Charlemagne built a priory on the site. A Romanesque church was added in the 12^th century and in the 18^th century, years before the American revolution, a grand chateau was constructed. For a thousand years, the Abbaye priory was one of the most celebrated church structures in the region and a stopping off place for travelers making the long and arduous pilgrimage to Saint-Jacques de Compestelle in northern Spain.

The Abbaye de Cassan today is a huge estate set amidst vineyards and a working winery. The Chateau has rooms available for meetings, concerts and events like weddings, and there are  plans for creating a full scale corporate retreat and conference center that are still several million Euros in the future. 

Arriving at the Abbaye, there wasn’t much to see from the parking lot, just an old wall and an sign with an arrow marked “Visitors” that led to a gift shop. Eek, a gift shop before you’ve even seen the place, that's very American. Slipping through the gift shop, avoiding the tourist ware, we ended up in a large tree shaded courtyard and a path to the Chateau.

The outer corridor

So far, this didn’t seem like much but entering the Chateau you suddenly feel as though you have stepped into the unfinished set for a Three Musketeers movie. What we hadn’t realized was that the parking lot and the gift shop were tucked into the backside of the building. Seen from the front the chateau’s a different story. It is a huge building with long, curtained corridors stretching its entire length. Nestled within the corridors are several large rooms that were the living quarters.

The dining room

In the wide corridor that the path led there were a dozen or more stalls selling artisanal food products. This was the heart of the “saveurs and odeurs” and in the middle of the corridor we found the stall of “Roses et Délices.”

Created by a couple from Massac Hautes-Corbières named, Bernard and Marie-Laurence Million (honestly), "Roses et Délices" is a line of handcrafted confits (jellies) and syrups made from flower petals--the petals of thyme, rosemary, mint, violets and roses. These are the most delicately flavored jellies and syrups imaginable. Just a tiny spoonful on a piece of chévre or some ice cream, explodes with the flavor of the flowers. M Million suggested with obvious pride that the rose confit when sprinkled on foie gras or duck breast is simply spectacular. Marie-Laurence added that a few drops of the syrup added white wine makes a heavenly “kir” and mixed with champagne produces the most “royal” of all “royal kirs.” To learn more about the Million’s petal jellies and syrups take a look at their website at www.RosesetDelices.fr.

These handmade chocolate was sold at the foire!

Flower petal jelly and syrup are just one of the incredible culinary treats that keep popping around the Herault. Producing artisanal food in this part of France reminds me of home beer brewers in the States. They are passionate and committed; and only a little crazy.

The Romanesque church

Walking on we came to the crafts fair. It was set-up in the Abbaye’s 12^th century church. As you can see from the photo, with it’s high arched, Romanesque ceiling, it was the most extraordinary venue for a crafts show imaginable.

A 12th century fresco in the abbey

Finally, we got to the table set up with a display of the Chateau’s own wine named fittingly enough, "Chateau-Abbaye de Cassan." 

This fortified tower looks like a chess "rook"

The Chateau winery produces several wines that are blends of different grapes, like syrah, Grenache, cabernet. Their least expensive wine is named “Le Jardin des Simples.” This name refers to a medieval herb garden. A more complex wine is called “Le Jardin de Labyrinthe" or the Garden of the Labryinth and above it in price (15 euros) and complexity is “Le Jardin de Songes” or “the Garden of Dreams.” I just love these wines' names, they are a lot classier than “Yellow Tail” or “Two Buck Chuck.”

And then there was a lovely rosé called “La Rosé de Madame de Brimont” which was made entirely of cinsault grapes--one of the most important local grape varieties in the Languedoc.

After tasting the rosé, one of the winemakers pulled us aside to tell us the story behind the wine's name. Madame de Brimont, was the beautiful mistress of the Prince de Conti who was the King's administrator for the l'Herault. His palace was in Pezenas some ten miles away and with a little string pulling he obtained the Chateau for his lover in the middle of the 18th century. Over the years she visited the Chateau and her prince often and, the wine guy went on, it is said that years after her death, Chateau servants would see her ghostly figure playing the piano in the Chateau salon.

At that moment, after rose petal jellies and rosé wine, standing in a haunted castle at a flavors and smells fair, it seemed to me that we could not have found a more perfect way to spend a rainy day in the Sud de France.

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