Throughout the Pyrenees, in nine hotels out of ten, you can obtain a decently cooked luncheon or dinner—neither above nor below the average.
But in order to depart from the beaten track of the ordinary menu, abandon all hypocrisy, oh, intelligent traveller! and do not pretend that you can turn a fastidious nose away from the seductions of the burnt onion and the garlic clove, the foundations upon which rests the whole edifice of Pyrenean cooking. Pharisaical density would be only wasting time, for these two vegetables will be your constant companions so soon as you decide to sample the cuisine bourgeoise of the country. You should on no account fail to venture on this voyage of exploration, as some of the dishes are excellent, all of them interesting, and, once tasted, never to be forgotten.
To attempt to enumerate them all, to describe them minutely, or to give any account of their preparation, hardly comes within the scope of these notes. Suffice it to give the names of two or three.
First comes the Garbure, a kind of thick vegetable soup containing Heaven knows what ingredients, but all the same sure to please you. Next comes the Confit d'Oie, a sort of goose stew, utterly unlike anything you have tasted before, but not without its merits. Next, the Cotelettes d'Izard mariné may interest you. The izard, or chamois of the Pyrenees, has been mariné or soaked for some time in wine, vinegar, bay leaves, and other herbs. It thus acquires a distinctive and novel flavour. Don't forget the Ragout and the Poulet, either chasseur or else paysanne; nor yet the Pie de Mars if in season. By way of fish you will always find the trout delicious, either fried or else à la meunière. (Don't miss the alose if you are at Pau.) Lastly, the Pyrenean pâtés, Gibier and Foie de Canard, are justly celebrated, and can more than hold their own in friendly and patriotic rivalry with any of those purporting to come from Strasbourg or Nancy.
At first acquaintance you will not care much for pic-à-pou or the wine of the country, but with patience you may possibly learn to appreciate the Vin de Jurançon. Tradition has it that Henri Quatre's nurses preferred to give this form of nourishment rather than the Mellin's Food of the time. Perhaps babies were differently constituted in those days.
In any case you will always be able to get a good bottle of claret, bearing the name of some first-class Bordeaux firm, such as Johnson, Barton Guestier, or Luze, etc. If you are lucky enough to obtain a glass of genuine old Armagnac, you will probably rank it, as a liqueur, very nearly as high as any cognac you have ever tasted.
A word of warning! Don't be too eager to order whisky and soda. The "Scotch" is not of uniform quality.
So much for eatables and drinkables. A few hints now as to where you might care to lunch or dine.
Pau
To begin with Pau. There is really a great artist there—a man whose sole hobby is his kitchen, and who, if he chooses, can send you up a dinner second to none. His name is Guichard. Go and have a talk with him. Hear what he has to say on the fond-de-cuisine theory. Let him arrange your menu and await the result with confidence. That confidence will not be misplaced.