Lost In Limoges

From the sheep-dotted pastures of France's underpopulated Southwest, Limoges rises in all its grey glory. The city's claim to fame: fine porcelain. The half-timbered houses of the Medieval center are surrounded by strip malls and McDo. Land-hungry Brits descend with flailing pocketbooks (thanks, RyanAir). The weather is remarkably cool year-round. Sure, I live on rue de Nice, but this is NOT the Cote d'Azur. Welcome to Limoges, "the middle of nowhere"-- or as Pierre says "everywhere"-- France.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Les Petits Ventres: Medieval Food Fair on the Rue de la Boucherie, Limoges


The frères came to visit at the end of October, coinciding with Les Petits Ventres in Limoges. Despite the freezing temperatures and the rugby match on TV (talk about a distraction), we hit up the fabulous food festival. Convivial and jolly, the ancient fair dates back to 930 AD. All the local butchers set up stalls and grills along the Rue de la Boucherie (literally: Butcher Street) and serve up tasty local specialties like boudin aux châtaignes, tripe, and foie gras. (The trade in this quartier dates back centuries).

The half-timbered houses were twinkling with lights and the crowds packed the tiny medieval alley. We were swept along in the current of people (wine cups in hand, sloshing everywhere). Quite the street party. Manu and I ate a foie gras sandwich, I kid you not. The first and only time in my life that I've seen this delicacy slathered between two hunks of bread.

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