{"id":1805,"date":"2004-10-28T03:54:00","date_gmt":"2004-10-28T03:54:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2004\/10\/28\/humble-nutty-and-chez-moi-un-gateau-aux-noix"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:37","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:37","slug":"humble-nutty-and-chez-moi-un-gateau-aux-noix","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2004\/10\/humble-nutty-and-chez-moi-un-gateau-aux-noix\/","title":{"rendered":"Humble, nutty, and chez moi: un gateau aux noix"},"content":{"rendered":"
Les Eyzies-de-Tayac is a village nestled under a cliff alongside the V\u00e9z\u00e8re River in the beautiful Dordogne<\/a> region of southwestern France. The self-proclaimed \u201ccapitale mondiale de la pr\u00e9histoire,\u201d<\/em> it boasts a supremely boring (but, I understand, newly revamped<\/a>) museum of prehistory and a nameless caf\u00e9 where I bought some Orangina and used the bathroom. Most importantly, however, it was in Les Eyzies that I had my first taste of a g\u00e2teau aux noix<\/em><\/strong>, a French walnut cake.<\/p>\n It was October 1999, and I was a month into my two-quarter stay in France as a student in the Stanford-in-Paris program. Thanks to Helen Bing, a truly worship-worthy Stanford donor, we students hopped a train down to Brive-la-Gaillarde and spent a weekend Dordogne-ing with luxury accommodations<\/strong> for a grand total of roughly $40 each. My friend Clare and I were assigned a ridiculously extravagant suite \u00e0 la fran\u00e7aise and spent each evening marveling at our good fortune and happily yelling goodnight to each other from our bedrooms at opposite ends of a long, marble-lined hallway.<\/p>\n Other highlights of the trip included: But five years later, it\u2019s the walnut cake that haunts me. It had been baked at our hotel and plastic-wrapped in individual wedges for us to take on our day\u2019s sightseeing, and I ate it perched atop a large, sunny rock in a park in Les Eyzies. Nothing fancy, it was a dense-crumbed white cake flecked with brown, humble, nutty, and only faintly sweet<\/strong>. Nothing fancy, it was delicious.<\/p>\n
-a chilly late-night tour of the town of Sarlat, followed by much dancing in a tight, smoky bar to shameful hits<\/strong> such as \u201cMambo Number Five\u201d and \u201cTomber la Chemise;\u201d
-befriending Gui,<\/a> my dear, gorgeous, long-lost Brazilian and one of the flakiest people I\u2019ve ever adored;
-befriending my dear Keaton;
-watching Gui run frantically around the very old Ch\u00e2teau de Beynac, trying to stay warm on a nippy morning;
-the decadent multi-course feasts of this region known for its truffles, c\u00e8pes, and foie gras<\/strong> (the last of which I\u2019m undecided on but strive to avoid);
-and a dinner of pain de son<\/em> (bran bread) and Peanut M&Ms on the train-ride back to Paris.<\/p>\n