Wines in Burgundy
Where France shows its sensual side
Walk through Vézelay, a famous place of pilgrimage
Tosca not only bears the name of a famous opera figure, she also visually plays the cliché of an opera singer: Tosca is cylindrical. Although she does not need her body volume to sing, her curves still have something to do with her task - Tosca is a truffle bitch. A black Labrador with one of the best spikes in Auxerre. Especially good is this nose especially when she is traveling with the thin mustachioed policeman Remy Chauvin. Because Remy loves truffles and Tosca, and Tosca loves truffles and Remy.
We bump into the car behind Remy's van. About dirt roads, through vines and groves, until he stops in front of a "Truffiere", a property that belongs to the "truffle friends" of Auxerre. Remy opens the gate, Tosca presses on the grounds and immediately begins to eat the hazelnuts that are everywhere on the ground. "No, Tosca, no nuts!", Remy calls friendly. "Va chercher les truffes!", And immediately the bitch gets to work. With the snout on the ground she approaches the trunk of a pine tree. Sniffs excited and paw carefully with the paw pins on a palm-sized stain away. Then she sits down next to it, gives Remy a velvet-black look and waits for her reward like a confirmation woman on the blessing. With a small rake, Remy carefully clears away earth and stones, drills with his fingers and carries two gray-brown tubers to the light of day. One cuts it, the cut surface is the color of light milk coffee: perfect. Remy leaves the mushrooms in his shoulder bag disappear and instead angers dog biscuits for Tosca from the side pocket, which were next to a thick truffle mushroom and flavored accordingly. Again a little bit more bacon for the bitch.
In the evening in the "Hotel Maxime" in Auxerre, we are glad to be able to strip off the clay-smeared shoes. The hands still smell of warm dog fur, earth and mushrooms. Truffle hunt with Tosca - another event that makes our autumn trip through Burgundy so special.
The mustard manufactory Fallot in Beaune with fancy varieties
We have already experienced some of these moments: The tour of the wine cellars of the Borgnat family in Escolives-Sainte-Camille, for example. The air in the nearly 700-square-foot underground vault was cool and weiningeschwängert. Madame Borgnat showed us the big wooden barrels and the high walls of carefully stacked bottles. Later we got a glass of fresh must directly from the giant metal barrel in the press house. In the evening Madame cooked "Coq au vin" for us. It was getting late. Or in Beaune: When we watched Marc Desarmenien, the director of mustard manufacture Moutarderie Fallot, dump a bucket of tarragon leaves into the vat in which the mustard was ground, the tears came to our eyes - the smell was so sharp. Afterwards we stomped our own "Moutarde de Dijon" in a mortar out of mustard seeds, vinegar and salt and we had to cry again.
Of course, wines from Burgundy are part of the meal
"Eternal Love" in the garden of the star chef Marc Meneau in Saint-Père-Sous-Vezélay
In the evening in Auxerre we walk along the banks of the river Yonne to the restaurant of Jean-Luc Barnabet. There, the five-course menu "Tout a la Truffe" awaits us. First, the chef recommends a "Kir", the classic aperitif of Burgundy: a well-cooled aligote wine with a dash of Creme de Cassis, the blackcurrant liqueur of the Côte d'Or.
We barely emptied our glass when the hour for the truffles struck us: we served prawns and fennel with a ball of goose liver in a truffle case, scallops with thick truffle slices, cod under truffles, pheasant with truffle mashed potatoes, and to round it off, chopped cream cheese ravioli. And with each course a different wine of the region. As I sip the appetizer at Chablis, I feel instantly transported back to the beautiful old wine town of the same name, which we visited a few days ago. We wandered through a pine forest to the vineyards that lay like green fans before Chablis. Maureen from the Cave du Connaisseur winery showed us where the Chardonnay vines of the Petit Chablis Appellation thrive. It stormed, the grapes had already been harvested, the edges of the vine leaves yellowed. With every sip I taste once again the autumnal air of this unforgettable day.
Pumpkin frenzy at the market of Toucy
The next morning I wake up the sound of a ship horn, I open the shutters and look at the Yonne. The world is still black and white, silvery light is reflected on dark waves. Fog veils curl around the bellies of the ships, only in the houseboat on the other shore is already burning light.When we come to the door after breakfast, a fresh wind drives into the trees by the river. We rented bicycles and started rolling, first along the Yonne, then on the Canal du Nivernais. The cumulus clouds above us now and then release a light blue piece of sky, before they contract again into a dense wall. In front of us rise the steep rocks of Saussois, bizarre stone giants that seem to move by the constant change of light. A few kilometers further we discover a cottage garden. Dark green Swiss chard grows from the reddish brown earth. Dahlias lean their pink, red and orange flamed flower heads against the fence. Strange: The colors of Burgundy radiate even without a sunny autumn day. Despite the overcast sky, they seem to suck in all light until everything starts to glow from within. I already noticed this on our trip to Beaune: in the middle of the old town wall the glazed bricks on the roofs of the famous hospital "Hötel-Dieu" from the year 1443 shone in deep wine red, bottle green and sun yellow.
You have to enjoy wines from Burgundy
Later I walk up the steep road to Vezelay, to the church Sainte-Madeleine, which is located on the hilltop. Strictly, the nave rises up; the Romanesque reliefs above the portals are modern, almost abstract. Inside, small stone figures tell stories at the capitulation curiosities. "Those who come here sad, happy and comforted," it says in an old chronicle. On the way down I discover the small studio "Or et Lumiere" by the artist Beatrice Van Den Bossche. She specializes in medieval book illumination. She is just giving a course; the participants sit in front of their parchments and carefully draw fine pictures on the leaves with marten hair brushes. Most of them actually look like medieval illustrations - stylized human and animal figures, colorful letters with clear contours on gold background. I ask the artist for a very personal souvenir: my initials on gold background, entwined by a few grapevines, plus a thick black dog, which winds smoothly between the letters.
Beatrice looks at me questioningly: "A fat dog?" This is very unusual, because Gothic figures are finally ascetic, slim and slim. But slimming Tosca? No way! She is a pleasure dog, and one should finally see that. "Let my initial booksticks look a bit more rounded!" I suggest to the artist. Beatrice laughs and puts on the brush.
