We’re celebrating a mid winter wedding at the chateau this afternoon. Chef is starting with a roast garlic and herb consommé and continues with beautifully puffed up and light goat cheese soufflés. Then there’s a little ginger sorbet before the guinea fowl arrives. Chef has deliberately ordered small birds and will serve each guest a confit leg and a pan fried breast, with a Banyols Jus.
Chef did a dry run last week which was tortuous. It was just 11 in the morning when he brought out each course for a tasting and I was expected to take just one spoon or forkful of each, comment and leave the rest. How unfair. It was all utterly divine particularly the guinea fowl which I describe as a super tasty chicken. The difference is subtle but definitely worth the extra effort. It’s served with a carrot and swede puree infused with onion and cloves - the seasonal twist since this gives essence of bread sauce. I could happily have devoured the lot, even at 11am. It’s tough, this chateau life.
Guinea Fowl is definitely the new chicken. Just as the Bauduc Semillion is my new Chardonnay. So that’s our Christmas lunch sorted out then.

I can hardly claim Chateau Bauduc as a personal discovery since Gordon Ramsay, Rick Stein and an oak barrel full of wine writers have recommended this English owned Bordeaux estate before me. But they all seem to focus on the Sauvigon Blanc which has made the house white in the Ramsay restaurants for the past five years (and is also the house white at Chateau Rigaud as it happens!). What they don’t seem to mention is the utterly delicious, nutty, rounded, Trois Hectares Semillion.
Driving around the Bordeaux vines at this time of year always brings flashing pound signs before my eyes. The trees are filled with gold, or might as well be, in the shape of the mistletoe. The trees are brimming with the white berries, which are just begging to be taken down and whisked off a smart UK farmers market. At £10 for a healthy bunch there’s probably enough profit in it to justify driving a van to the UK and the van could come back laden with mince pies and Christmas puddings for selling to the Bordeaux ex pat community. Of course the Mistletoe seems to favour only the really high and difficult to access branches. It’s not that the lower down stuff is already taken since the French are just not bothered about it. It’s just that it likes to grow up high where the wind has planted the seed. So short of investing in a cherry picker it’s going to have to sit there and I will continue to drive around the vines looking at dollars in the trees!
