Two days in Biarritz, Bayonne and Espelette
It was an early touch down in Biarritz from Paris, just a 1 hour 20 flight down to this nook of the Atlantic coast, but seemingly worlds apart at a first glance. The rain was pelting down and at 8am it was still dark and blustery. Frankie and I headed off to roam the desolate streets of Biarritz in search of a hot drink and a sweet little something to keep us going til lunch.
The Pays Basque happens to be famous for quite a variety of sweet stuffs; amongst them the Macaron, Mouchous (little kiss in Basque), Gateau Basque (a controversial cake that we made at Le Cordon Bleu - controversial because most of us found it hard work for a not-that-special result), le Chaumontais and chocolates. So we had a lot to chose from.
Ever the fan of a canele (despite them being from Bordeaux and not quite Biarritz), we opted for a couple over coffee and an exceptional view of the craggy coastline at Miremont.
We also discovered some fantastic other addresses for sweet treats, including Maison Adam who make wonderful macarons, but not as we know them. These are single layered, ganache-free, and much more rustic in their piping and finish, but equally delicious.
After meandering the streets of Biarritz and getting somewhat windswept on the lookout point, it was time for a bite to eat, and thanks to Le Fooding, we had opted for a casual bistrot Chez Pilou.
And boy, was it a good option. The place oozed ambiance; it was full of locals on their lunch breaks, dogs in tow, offered an 8.50 euro dish of the day (cabillaud with aioli) and best of all, some excellent cepes with egg as a starter.
I also gave the pig ear with calamari a bash, a definite winter warmer.
Later that night we headed out for a light bite around the area where Les Halles had formerly been (they are currently being refurbished, and are operating in another location across town in the meantime, Les Halles Kennedy, not far from the train station).
Despite hearing that some of the night spots and restaurants were suffering as a result of the works to the area, we fell upon just in time before the crowds descended. Here we had a selection of pinchos, selected by yours truly from the line-up at the bar.
And some nice little bits including little gems topped with anchovies and red peppers, and chipirons a la plancha.
The next day was an early rise, and we rented a car to head to the nearby town Bayonne, probably best known as the home of the ham. It was market day along the street that lines the river, spilling out in front of the covered market.
The town is postcard pretty, with old higgeldy piggledy housing lining the river all accessorized with different coloured shutters, particularly in contrast to Biarritz whose architecture is far less charming and more what you would associate with a seaside resort.
The market was a joy to behond. There were fresh cepes, knobbly squash and gnarly tomatoes, and these piment d'espelette peppers, fire engine red and captured in little woven baskets. Most of the market stands were tiny entreprises, one little lady selling only (and she meant it when she said only, no negociating here) 3 kilo bags of dinky little apples for 2 euros a pop. There were fromage de brebis sellers, aged 5 months or maybe 14.
But perhaps best of all was Le Pigeonneau, four little pigeons in a cabinet selling themselves (no vendor in sight) from this little table in front of the market.
There was also the discovery of a local speciality, another style of macaron known as a mouchous, meaning a 'kiss' in Basque. This light little almond biscuits are sandwiched together without ganache, but apparently stick together from their general moistness when fresh out of the oven.
Next up on the road trip around the Basque country was a visit to the touristy town of Espelette, whose sole raison d'etre seems to be tourism associated to the piment d'espelette, which is not a bad thing. Strings of piments hang from the houses, hotels, shop fronts, hell - even the Spar has them. They make gelée d'espelette (lovely topped on a little brebis), espelette salt, purée, paste, lollipops - you name it. They even rub their hams with it.
Just a windy little trip down the road away lies the little farm Kukulu, set in the hills and charming in every sense. You can just rock up and take yourself on a guilded visit, seeing where they make the cheese, age it and keep the sheep.
It was still pelting down with rain at this point, so after swooning over the cute farm animals for a while, we picked up some fromage de brebis (4 months aged) for supper and headed back to Biarritz.
Stay tuned for part 2 of the trip!
