Food Notes - by Roy

Last night, we sat around the kitchen table in Vincent's B and B, enjoying our first really home-cooked meal of the trip - a mead-like aperitif, melon appetiser, followed by roast lamb, roasted potatoes, local cheeses and a rhubarb desert, washed down by local vine de pays. Sighs of contentment followed.
It occurred to me, as we ate, that we had not posted anything so far that focused on food, although several of our blogs have given some indication of our interest in eating and drinking well. So, I volunteered to give you readers some thoughts and impressions of what we have encountered on the culinary trail.
Breakfast in France has become a "thinner" meal as we have moved south. While in the Netherlands and Belgium, our B and Bs and hotels were serving a continental breakfast that included meats, cheeses and eggs to go along with the croissants, breads, cereals, jams and yoghurts. Moving southwards has eliminated the eggs, meats and cheeses (without lowering the price, which seems to be around 9 euro pretty much everywhere), and so Gwen and Fran have been the team's quartermaster, learning the qualities of various supermarkets and grocery chains as we move along, and ensuring that Dale and I are supplied with soft cheeses, salamis and sausages, and of course, potato chips, Dale's essential and primary source of salts and minerals (not that I have denied myself any of the packets on offer).
Mid-morning snack on our riding days has been energy bars: Dale announced initially that he didn't eat them, but I have noticed that he has been an eager consumer.
Lunch has been the meal that has shifted from day to day depending on our progress along the road, taking place any time between midday and 4.00 pm. The SAG wagon parks, and a spread awaits us as we cycle into some shaded and grassy area. Lots of cheeses and meats, local cherries, grapes, pears and strawberries; the local fruits are delicious, but they have to be eaten within 24 hours or else they spoil - and that is not too much of a burden, plus it probably means that we are eating foods that are not awash in pesticides, preservatives and other chemicals which give our own foods shelf life and reduced taste. A couple of days ago, as we drove towards Pau, Gwen stated that it was time for lunch, asserted that we needed a picnic table and within a mile such a table appeared beside rushing water - quite how she did that, I am not sure, since I do not recall seeing any more than one of two picnic tables the whole trip. Pretty good spot for our cheeses and meats, though.
Dinners have also shifted depending on when we get into our hotel. There have been evenings when we have arrived at the restaurant just before serving hours expire, and there have been a few evenings when we could not find a place to eat (back to cheese and meats in our rooms!). Lots of restaurants in France seem to be closed on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday evenings.
But, how well we have eaten: the quality of dishes is generally high (I guess it is true that you can't survive as a restaurateur in France by serving mediocre food), and the scope and range of menus is broad. Dale and I have been pleased to discover that pasta (carbo-loading!!!) is a major component of menus, even when it is not an Italian restaurant. We are also learning not to avoid restaurants that declare they are "pizzerias", for they are that and so much more. In Pau, a couple of evenings ago, we found a pizzeria in the central square that had an extensive menu, including plats du jour, snails and excellent salads, to complement a long list of pizzas and pasta. I personally love the plats du jour, ostensibly limited choice meals, but usually offering three or four appetisers, three or four main dishes and cheeses and/or desert. Great value.
We have eaten Italian (in Amsterdam, and as good as anywhere I've eaten for a long while), Chinese (in Epernay and as close to mediocre as any meal we've had), American (the Buffalo Grill, serving bison burgers, ribs and similar "American" dishes in Foix, conveniently 100 yards from the hotel), modern European, including the obligatory pasta, in a British-style pub in Rodez, and lots of French (including the two best charcroutes I've ever had). And we've washed the food down with various beers and lots of local wines; I have discovered Leffe beer, which comes in various flavors and strengths, and Dale is still trying to get his glass of draft Amstel - maybe when we get back to Brugge. And we have paid very reasonable prices for all our restaurant dinners.
I told Dale today that we have to get back on our bikes soon (the Pyrenees is a beautiful area, but the weather has not cooperated like it did in the Alps), or we are going to lose our svelte, chiseled looks, because we clearly do not have the ability to moderate our food intake in the midst of such temptation.