The title of this travelogue may sound a bit like a small New England railroad specializing in perishable freight, but it is meant to convey a very different picture—that of a château-dotted, vine-ribbed pair of French provinces along the river Loire and its tributaries. Visitors to Brittany and the château country overflow into the unassuming Anjou-Maine area without knowing it. Tucked in between more publicized neighbors, it is less picturesque than Brittany, less endowed with famous chateaux and gardens than the Touraine. But it produces better wine than either of them, and its regional cookery is every bit as good.
We have followed the gastronomic convention of consolidating these two provinces in a single group, although the Anjou greatly out shines its northern neighbor. In fact, if it weren't for Monsieur Ricordeau and his wonderful country hotel in Loué, the Maine would cut a very pale swath indeed. Anjou consists of a single département, the Maine-et-Loire, while the Maine contains two départements, the Mayenne and the Sarthe. That's enough geography for today.
There couldn't be a more peaceful country than this-gentle, unhurried, full of repose and the joie de vivre which is always present in a wine-growing community. Irs villages arc usually the same. Tilled with cream-colored story-and-a-half houses built of the easily carved chalky stone of the region. Its fields are separated by hedges, its roads lined with regiments of poplars. The people are unpretentious, gay, and fond of their own wine. On last August fifteenth, the traditional French holiday. I motored through the Anjou but neglected to count the number of village festivals, bicycle races, and bowling matches encountered along the way. But they ran well into the dozens. The Angevins are fond of their own food, too, and for good reason. Nature has been kind to them. The Loire is wide and generous by the time it passes through here, providing fine shad and salmon, which ascend the river in the springtime, perch, tench, and an abundance of eel. They have their own way of cooking eels with prunes in the Anjou-a bit startling at first taste, but good. The lean, bony pike is their particular star, and quenelles de brochet au beurre blanc is a regional dish which belongs in the very top bracket. This suave beaten butter is the glory of the Anjou, along with its wines. It has subtle touches—a whisper of shallot and a few tear drops of wine vinegar just to point it up. The cookbooks say that the butter really turns white if you heat it just right and beat it long enough. The Anjou version is a frank pale yellow, and 1 don't believe it's because their cooks arc indolent with the sauce whisk. There just isn't a more delicious sauce for fresh-water fish. Rumor is that it's fattening, too. If you want to taste it, prepared by a native Angevin, without leaving Paris, the little Left Bank restaurant known as Chez Chataigner, at 75, rue du Cherche-Midi, offers the opportunity. Monsieur Chataigner is a master at it. as we mentioned in July.
The gastronomic glory of the Anjou is obvious—its magnificent wines. The temperamental slopes of the Loire River produce a succession of notable and quite dissimilar wines as it winds across the French countryside. Muscadet is very dry; Vouvray is delicate; Saint-Jean-de-Brayc is one of the rare red wines which taste better when iced; Pouilly-Fumé and Sancerre are fragrant treasure from the upper valleys. Anjou is equally favored, Its whites are superb as dessert wines-fragrant well balanced, strong in alcohol. They bear little resemblance to Sauternes, but they can rival the best of the château white wines except in their ability to travel well. The pinkish wines of the Anjou are pleasantly dry and very popular during varm weather. Finally there are a few reds, delicious, but lamentable travelers. It is a rare privilege to taste the admirable red Champigny in its home territory of Saumur.
The white wines are classified by the varied slopes of the Loire region, and the complete chart would take pages. It seems wiser to select a few classic names to paste in your hatband. From the Coteaux de la Loire, the Right Bank vineyards, comes a divine amber liquid called Coulée-de-berrant. The villages of Savennières and La-Roche-aux-Moines produce the best from this region. The Coteaux dc Layon, which contains the Left Bank vineyards south of the river, is a seductive slope crowned with a number of abandoned windmills. This is the source of the memorable Quarts de Chaume and a whole series of bacchic splendors,the best coming from the village of Rochefort-sur-Loire. From the Coteaux de Saumur comes a lighter, dryer wine with a touch of flintstone in its sprightly bouquet. It responds readily to the conventional champagne method. Large quantities of sparkling Saumur are stored in chalk Caves on the outskirts of the town. Finally, there are lesser wines from the banks of the Loir (without an “e”) and the Sarthe. The grape which produces most of these treasures is the same-Pineau de la Loire. The best years: 1921, 1928, 1933, 1934, 1937, 1942, 1943, 1945, and 1947.
Travel in the Anjou is easy and pleasant. There is plenty to see, for the place is saturated with history and filled with reminders of the Plantagenet kings. There are two good overnight stops with better than adequate hotels-Angers and Saumur-and a dozen or so nice little country inns for rural repasts. Let's have a look:
Angers (Maine-et-Loire)
The former capital of the Anjou is a busy city on the banks of the river Maine, a center of fine wines, roofing slates, and umbrellas; the home of that crystal-clear liqueur made from oranges and considered compulsory in a Sidecar, Cointreau. It is a logical center for visitors to the Anjou,and its hotels are good. The cathedral of Saint-Maurice is worth a visit, particularly for its stained glass. The Musée de Tapisseries in Angers is truly extraordinary. Installed in a former Episcopal palace, the museum is unique in France, containing some of the world's most astonishing tapestries. The feudal chateau of Angers, built in alternate stripes of gray slate and white sandstone, is still impressive, though partially dismantled. Its seventeen plump towers were once much higher and capped with conical roofs. Henri III ordered the chateau destroyed during the religious wars, but the governor entrusted with the demolition boondoggled (to use an ancient French phrase) as much as possible, until the King's death saved most of the immense fortress. At the peak of its splendor the château was the home of the famous Foulques family, who bore the title of Counts of Anjou and were picturesque characters all. One of them, Foulques-le-Réchin. divorced two wives and lived to a ripe old age only to suffer the indignity of having his ravishing young mistress, Bertrade de Montfort, stolen from him by none other than Philip I, King of France. The family teamed up with royalty when a tender Foulques lad of fourteen, named Geoffroy, was married to the twenty-nine-year-old granddaughter of William the Conqueror. He met the challenge well, The result of the marriage was a lad named Henri Plantagenet, who later married Eleanor of Aquitaine after she was divorced by the King of France. Tilings hummed from then on. Within two years the young man had acquired many French provinces and had become Henry II, King of England. Quite evidently the role of the Anjou in history is not to be ignored.
Please forgive this tangent shooting back to 1154 when the problem of the moment is to select an epicurean hotel in Angers. Without hesitation we suggest the HÔTEL DU CHBVAL BLANC, at 12, rue Saint-Aubin, not far from the cathedral. This White Horse Inn is installed in a fine old sixteenth-century building, but modern comfort has quietly crept in. The rooms are most agreeable, and there is a verdant courtyard, a nice little bar, and, above all, a most gifted squad of cooks in the kitchen. The treasures of the Loire—salmon, brocket an beurre blanc, and matelote d'anguille—are served in the true Anjou tradition. Monsieur Barba has his own way of presenting plump poulardes,and his crépes flambées make a dramatic dessert. The caveis stocked with current wines-Rosé d'Anjou and Champigny-Ic-Scc, for example—and a glittering array of the rare Anjou vintages in fine years. The visiting voluptuary will do well if he finds a better place in the Anjou. In addition, the White Horse pays off well. Prices are eminently fair.
Saumur (Maine-et-Loire)
Saumur is a town which stirs up a variety of enthusiasms, depending upon whether you are interested in thorough-bred horses, medieval architecture, or sparkling wines. The celebrated old town on the banks of the Loire is perhaps best known for its Cavalry School, founded in 1763, the last equine stronghold in today's mechanized French Army. Many a West Pointer has spent months in Saumur. The most immaculately clad French officers, some of them positively waspwaisted, dare briskly through the streets, whirling their riding crops and looking unbelievably handsome. They are members of the Corps d'Elitewhich appears at International Horse Shows and sets maiden hearts aflutter. Hut they possess the stern stuff of soldiers too. In June. 1940, a small contingent of them heroically held the Germans in check and for three days prevented any crossing of the Loire along a twelve-mile front. Saumur suffered heavily from artillery fire at that time and later, and it is still far from rebuilt. Most of its old, timbered houses, including some of those shown in the illustrative lithograph, managed to survive. The château of Saumur is a massive hilltop affair, built on already ancient fortifications in the fourteenth century. It has served both as a prison and as a barracks (do I hear someone ask what's the difference?) but is now transformed into the Musée du Cheval.If you have a weakness for horses, this collection will prove memorable.
But getting down to gastronomy, the wines of Saumur are a chapter in themselves and quite unlike their neighbors in the Anjou. Saumur sparkles easily, as we have said, and its fame has traveled far. In fact, it would be interesting to know just what percentage of champagne cocktails are made with sparkling Saumur. They are no worse for the substitution; perhaps they are even better. One wine establishment in Saumur is hospitality personified when it comes to inviting strangers to its wine cellars. This is the house of Ackermann on the western outskirts of the city. They really put themselves out to be agreeable to visitors and seem to enjoy it. For the wine-conscious tripper, this is one of the most pleasant and convivial experiences in the Anjou.
There is one well-appointed hotel in Saumur, right on the riverbank. This is the HÔTEL BUDAN, a conventional place (you know, the kind with a domed skylight over the lobby) but very comfortable. There are rooms with bath, several of them. It is a good place to put up for the night, especially if you like to contemplate a sunset from your bedroom window. The service is very good, the food rather “hotelly” but well prepared, and the prices only a little above normal and worth it.
For a luncheon in Saumur you should be pleased with a little place on the main street, the RESTAURANT L'ESCARGOT. This really has lots of charm, and the food is highly commendable. It's a tiny place, just wide enough to accommodate two sidewalk tables, each with a broad umbrella. But inside there is more room and much conviviality. A little bat, red-leather upholstery, and a small garden all contribute to your well-being. As the name might suggest, there are snails on the menu the year round. There is a savory choice of regional specialties too-escalopes à la crème, shad from the Loire on a bed of spinach, and, of course, the classic brocket au beurre blanc.
Fontevrault-L'Abbaye (Maine-et-Loire)
There aren't many places where a gourmet can make a pious pilgrimage, but this is one of them. For the Abbey of Fontevrault contains the only Romanesque kitchen which still exists in France, a fantastic octagonal structure resembling a gigantic beehive. It is a masterpiece of stone masonry, containing five large cooking hays and disposing of smoke and vapors through an intricate system of no less than twenty chimneys. At the height of a medieval banquet that kitchen must have been something! But it is only a part of the extraordinary eleventh-century abbey which contains a notable cloister, a Romanesque chapel preserving the tombs of the Plantagnet kings of England and a separate wing still used as a prison.