Another cool and sunny morning, with a promise of heat later.

Our plan for the day was to explore the coastal town of Agde, some fifty kilometers to the north-east. We arrived there, as planned, at noon. This, as it turned out, was a mistake, for it was then that the merchants were packing up their portable stalls after the weekly outdoor market, and the usual traffic rules—one-way streets and so on—did not apply. We found ourselves blocked by trucks, unable to move in either direction until a truck driver took charge of the situation, clearing vehicles out of our way and guiding us inch by inch out of the impasse.

Not wishing to venture again into the town, we headed south into the neat open spaces of sea-side communities that affluence had not passed by. We saw few signs of life and no restaurants, until at last we arrived at:

La Tamarissière

We sat on an attractive outdoor terrace close to the right bank of the Hérault. The conditions were ideal. It was warm, but we were well protected from the sun by an awning and an umbrella. We took our time over the beautifully illustrated menu and as apéritif, a pleasant lightweight Muscat de Mireval.

Amuse gueules: Twists of good puff pastry, and, separately, a tiny pot of a fine mousse de foie de canard et de morilles.

A salade verte of lettuce and frisée was spoiled by too much salt. We had our first inkling—subsequently confirmed, unfortunately—that on this day at least Chef Albano might not have been holding the kitchen to a standard consonant with his status as a Maître Cuisinier de France.

Foie gras seemed like the end result of a mass-production process in some distant factory. We set aside that insipid paste to savor a Muscat de Rivesaltes that we had ordered to go with the foie gras.

With the main course we drank a pleasantly hard-edged Terret Domaine la Fadèze Vin de Pays de l’Hérault 1992. (F95)

Bourride de baudroie comme en Agde: A bland concoction of dried-out monkfish balls having little of the garlicky punch of a genuine bourride. We don’t know the meaning of "as prepared in Agde," but on the evidence of this effort, it is a formula to be avoided.

Rouille chaude, filet de rougets grillés et compotée de fenouille: A rouille lacking pepper flavors, and red mullet only marginally fresh were drawbacks here. The fennel purée was the only component not excessively salty.

Nougat glacé aux fruits exotiques, eventail de mangue et coulis de fruits à la passion resembled a passion-fruit and mango ice cream, pleasant enough perhaps but a disappointment to Jean, fancier that she is of nougat glacé.

Figues rôties au Banyuls, fourées de glace à la vanille: Roasted figs marinated in Banyuls wine and stuffed with vanilla ice cream. This preparation brought out the rich flavor of the figs, and resulted as well in a thin and delectable sauce. The fig and vanilla ice cream made a pleasing combination, too. This dessert gave us an idea how good the restaurant might be when everything was bubbling along as it ought.

With two cups each of excellent coffee, the total at la Tamarissière was F775. They did not charge us for a second cup of coffee, nor for the glass of Muscat de Rivesaltes that we had enjoyed instead of, instead of with, the foie gras. This was not the first time we had noticed that, when a restaurant has a bad day, the manager will try to make amends by forgiving a few items on the check.

***

On the way back to the gîte, we swung south to take in the picturesque hilly country near the Spanish border. We paused at Céret to do a little shopping, picking up tomatoes, cucumbers, fruits, and a package of Coronnes au vin blanc de Rivesaltes--Catalan’s answer to Biscuits Bretons, we were told when we asked for the northern specialty. These chores done, we sat in the greenish shade of the mighty plane trees in the town center, spending a meditative half hour over a single cup of coffee.