At one point during our lunch this past Sunday, Jan looked up from her plate and said to me: “This is a big meal!” No, we weren’t eating a Big Meal at a McDonald’s outlet, but at a rustic spot called Hostellerie de Goujounac. And she meant it was a really BIG meal.
The Hostellerie de Goujounac is a small hotel, with a restaurant and bar. It’s located in the village of (you guessed it!) Goujounac, which lies south of Cazals in the département of the Lot. It takes about 30 minutes to drive there from Daglan.
We had eaten there several years ago, and now there are new owners. What lured us to the restaurant was the promise of enjoying some spit-roasted pork; this special had been highlighted in a promotional email I received from the restaurant. Sounded great, and so off we went.
Despite the weather being quite cool and damp, we sat on the front terrace (wishing we had worn sweaters or jackets), and began our meal with one of our favourite cocktails, the Aperol Spritz (which we thought were just a touch weak). When it came to order, I was surprised that there was quite a full menu, with lots of choices, as well as the pork. The three-course meal was priced at 30 euros, which seemed reasonably fair to us.
Jan’s entrée will give you an idea of why we thought our lunch was so large. It was a plate of seared foie gras, surprisingly thick. And as you can see, on one side of Jan’s plate was a pile of sauteed girolle mushrooms, and on the other were darkened strips of confit de canard:
My entrée was also generous: It was a thick slice of pâté en croute, accompanied by a fresh salad and a small dish of chutney. Very good.
For her main course, Jan swerved away from the spit-roast pork and went for slices of magret de canard (duck breast), served with mashed potatoes and a variety of vegetables. Here’s her plate:
And now we come to my main course — and the only disappointment of the meal. I had been looking forward to a few slices of spit-roast pork, tender and juicy, with a nice crisp crust. Instead, I was served a pile of strips of dried-out pork, sitting on top of a serving of potatoes dauphinois, and several vegetables.
The pork was so dry and unappetizing that I didn’t finish it. And after our meal, I chatted with a man at the next table who had ordered the pork and also found it unacceptably dry. It turned out that the man lives in the village, and said he would be speaking with the chef. Anyway, here’s my plate:
The dryness of the pork was almost made up for by my dessert, a creamy and light bavarois. Here’s my dish:
With the pork fiasco in mind, we probably won’t be rushing back. Still, it’s a pleasant place, and the drive from Daglan takes you through some beautiful forested countryside. So if you’re in the area, it could be worth a try.