Friday, November 22, 2013

November in Sarlat



There's a lot of black in town these days.

Toussaint, All Saints Day, kicked the month off as people dressed in black honored their deceased and filled the cemetery with colorful flowers.

Funerals too seem on the increase in November, maybe only because there are fewer weddings this time of year in Saint Sacerdos cathedral to distract from this heavier rite of passage in the same space.

November is the month of Sarlat’s annual international film festival. For a few days the small town is flooded by celebrities, filmmakers, and film students from across France. They all wear black.

But perhaps most enticing, November is the time of year that the black winter truffle will most likely appear. If it does, the truffle markets will open, the high-end one on Wednesdays and the standard one on Saturdays. What is curious is that, while one would think the dark celebrity of these affairs would be the tuber itself, the buyers out-compete the truffle in chic black attire, especially at the Wednesday market. Buttery black leather jackets, black brushed wool trousers, black cashmere sweaters and scarves. On the periphery of the hubbub are chic monotone dressers with black phones to their ears, communicating bids from far away clients, probably dressed in yacht-sailor’s blue and white, to a seller, who is dressed in the colors of the forest. Whatever their role, everyone wants to get into or stay in the black.

This year, word is, truffles are late. The arrival of the black truffle is heading towards December. One member of Café Oc, the Occitan conversation circle that meets once a month in Sarlat, told me not to worry, that the best truffles are those that peak in February. She advised waiting and offered her favorite recipe with truffles, the simple canapé: thin slices of the truffle atop fresh slices of rustic bread spread with butter and hit with sea salt. She said that paired with a glass of brut champagne made it perfection. I noticed she rarely wore black and almost always bright, saturated, and vibrant pink.



6 comments:

  1. Your writing is, as always, interwoven with clear, insightful observation, and a delicious warm, inviting tone. I love to read what you write…and I can taste the truffle sitting on top of the rustic bread, paired with the brut champagne. Heading to the kitchen right now in my bright red and turqoise!! xo

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    1. Thank you, Sarah! Love the image of bright red and turquoise (and heading into the kitchen). That would look splendid in the truffle market!

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  2. Yum! I wonder how much it costs, if one goes to the pink-is-allowed-Saturday market to buy enough truffles to make canapes? I wish I had some rustic french bread and butter right now.

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    1. At the Saturday market, the price depends on what grade and size (somewhere around 3-4 grades) you go for. My first time in, I selected a little average--not as dark or aromatic but still nice--truffle the size of a small walnut and paid 7 Euros. Sliced thin, it could offer about 6 canapes. It was good but it also was dangerous because it made me wonder what the really expensive truffles tasted like. Thankfully, I now have friends who have truffles in their backyards that they are happy to share when the harvest is good. Don't think it gets better than is that!

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  3. So beautifully put and right to the point about this fascinating area at this time of the year. And the dogs are companionable every month of the year!

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  4. Thank you. I agree about the dogs, too. Indeed, I think my next post will be on the dogs of the Dordogne!

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