The picturesque village of Trémolat is located in a U-bend on the intestinal Dordogne river (that area of the Nouvelle-Aquitaine so loved by British retirees and Brexit escapees). Not a lot happens here and that’s how the locals would like to keep it, merci beaucoup. There’s a market, a church, a couple of village square bistros, a disused tractor or two and some prehistoric caves nearby. It was also once the setting for the 1970 film Le Boucher though that was about the only drama the locals could take in this sleepy corner of south-west France.
In a little appendix of the village is Le Vieux Logis which has been somewhat of a mecca for British food writers for many years: a suitably refreshed Keith Floyd dined here in his 1987 series Floyd on France and more recently Rick Stein featured it in his 2019 series/book Secret France. It also remains a darling of the tyre company. Since I was in the area for some wine tasting and it’s on the same train route from Bordeaux as Saint-Émilion, it seemed an ideal opportunity to finally see why Le Vieux Logis has stood the test of time.
Well, the first thing you see (apart from the very irregular train timetable – it’s probably better to drive) is the sheer magnificence of this 16th century former priory, complete with neatly pruned hedges, a babbling brook and a swimming pool for hotel guests. One fears though that such a bucolic setting, still so enchanting in the early autumn, masks stuffy service and culinary fossils.
Chef Vincent Arnould has been in situ here for 20 years and his style is definitely not revolutionary, though it’s not reactionary either. He prizes local specialities such as foie gras, Périgord truffles, poultry, walnut oil and porcini mushrooms, and doesn’t let any part of a duck or goose go to waste (vegetarians and vegans worry not, there are alternatives on offer too).
the continued allure of this restaurant makes sense and its reputation is deserved
Perfect for day trips from Bordeaux or Bergerac, at lunchtimes they serve the 75 Euro tasting menu called the “menu éphémère” (the evening set menu and à la carte are unsurprisingly dearer). As I sipped on my glass of Champagne in the sublime garden with just a soupçon of imposter syndrome, I thought “éphémère” was an interesting choice of word, being French for “ephemeral” – i.e., something transient or short-lived like a mayfly, a dandelion seed in the wind or Liz Truss’s tenure as Prime Minister. You’d think the hotel’s marketing department would want to use vocabulary that evokes indelible memories of its restaurant, oh well. As I’ll come to, the food itself, whilst technically excellent, isn’t the most ground-breaking or memorable, though the dining experience as a whole is unforgettable.
After amuse-bouches and being given a Nontron knife (which you retain for the whole meal, as is Périgordian tradition, though it is hardly needed), a statement of intent from Arnould’s kitchen: foie gras served two ways, partly in cold but unctuous cuboid form and partly (my favourite) as a crème brûlée.
Foie gras in a dessert format right at the top of the meal was about as wacky as things got here, perhaps mercifully so. Generally, nothing seemed to depart from the classic French use of sauces and herbs. That can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your view of such matters. In any case, the French have never had much truck with spice (apart from piment d’Espelette in the Basque region). They know their genteel and somewhat conservative demographic here in Trémolat; something more akin to The Fat Duck, despite the omnipresence of ducks, would rock the Dordogne canoe too much.
Foie gras two ways (not pictured: the foie gras crème brûlée)
“Potato tartare” with Bayonne ham and tarragon
Chicken and fennel
Next up, what was gingerly described as a “potato tartare” was presented with a sliver of Bayonne ham, a cream sauce and just the gentlest suggestion of tarragon. It was delicate and finely-balanced but… ephemeral.
A small dish of cod with strips of courgette, peppers and tomatoes like a nod to ratatouille, brought together by a light bisque, was equally subtle and attractive, though more depth in the bisque would not have gone amiss.
And then for the tentpole dish, perfectly-cooked chicken with both a heavy cream sauce and a more intense chicken reduction, fennel and the odd addition of prawns may have looked a little unusual but the ingredients worked in harmony for a satisfying main event.
After cheese, a strange sort of wooden doughnut was served containing a dessert of raspberries with a honey and Chantilly cream sphere. There didn’t seem to be a huge amount of skill here but it was pleasurable nonetheless.
Throughout, service was excellent, especially the attentive chief sommelier who deserves recognition, and extra touches such as not rushing you off your table (there is only one sitting for lunch and your table is yours to enjoy the garden for the afternoon), or arranging a free lift to the railway station instead of facing the mile-long walk or an exorbitant taxi. The value is also deliciously fair, nay even great, when you consider all of this (including reasonably priced wine) came to about £100.
So yes, the continued allure of this restaurant makes sense and its reputation is deserved. The somewhat ‘safe’ food may not be the most thrilling but it is certainly prepared with love and in a setting that will just make you glad to be alive. If you happen to be in the south-west of France, whether on holiday or an ex-pat, Le Vieux Logis is worth the trip.
81 Rue des Écoles
24510 Trémolat
France
October 2024
