It was meant to be a simple meal, and it was. It just wasn’t simple getting there.
We started off this morning on our bikes from the village, crossing the River Céou via Le Pont Neuf (no, silly, not the one in Paris — the real one, in Daglan, built in 1963!) and then passing through Bouzic to Gaumier, and then up the long, long hill to Florimont. Up on top are some of the area’s most extensive vineyards, and they are quite lovely. At the wine shop, around noon, we tasted a local rosé (quite fruity, but drinkable) and my wife tried a red (very tannic, great if you’d like to remove all moisture from your tongue). But the “snack bar” looked pretty grim, despite the lovely view over the hills and valleys and vineyards, so we decided to head onward to a little place we know in Campagnac les Quercy. It’s a very hilly road, up and down the whole way, so we were pooped by the time we arrived there — to find the place closed. Aaargh.
So we decided to head onward to St Pompon, the village south of Daglan. Now this part is lovely — because for (literally) four full kilometres, from Campagnac to the main St Pompon/Daglan road, I didn’t have to pedal once! It was downhill all the way, and quite beautiful, with a winding road, not too steep a drop, passing through countryside and going past farmers’ fields.
In St Pompon, we ate out of doors, in the beautiful sunshine. A bottle of rosé (quite nice) and simple food: an omelette with cepes (mushrooms) plus salad for me; a campagnarde salad (with ham, potato salad, and greens) for my wife. Not fancy, but yummy, and it looked like this: