Bordeaux: The Spirit of La Tupina and Jean-Pierre Xiradakis

Before I go back to France next month, I'm determined to write about more of the people I met, the places I visited and the food I ate on my last trip.  Of course these are all the things I meant to write the instant they happened, but ...

Take, for instance, our meal at La Tupina in Bordeaux.

La Tupina is a place I dreamed about.  Michael and I had first gone there in 1995 with Pierre Herme and his wife and now, 12 years later, I can still feel the pop of excitement I had when we walked through the door.  Then, as now, what greets you is a long rustic table sagging beneath the weight of pottery bowls heaped high with vegetables and wooden boards laden with thin slices of saucissons (dried sausages) so irresistible that no one walks by without pinching a piece.  And, behind the table is the centuries-old cooking hearth, taller than most men and big enough to cook most beasts.

It's fitted with spits and pulleys, grates and grills and it's here that meats are seared and poultry is roasted, and here that the fat that drips from the slowly turning ducks lands on the thick-cut potatoes and gives them a flavor you remember for a lifetime.

Jean-Pierre Xiradakis is the master of the house and, the first time we were there, it was Jean-Pierre who was working the spits and handing out small squares of pate or a piece of piping hot chicken liver to guests to as they came up to the hearth to revel in the aromas.

I returned to La Tupina about four years ago and it was just as I remembered it, and then, on this last trip, Michael and I came back with our friends Jana and Luc, who live in Bordeaux, and it was still just as wonderful. It's always risky to try to relive a treasured moment and always a thrill when the goodness you recall is sustained.

There were the ducks and the potatoes and the hefty cuts of beef, the lamb from nearby Pauillac and the chickens with skin as burnished as a great-grandmother's hope chest.  The atmosphere was as festive, the crowd as jovial (people still snatched bits off the table) and the food, what Jean-Pierre calls simple, honest food from France's southwest, as lusty and satisfying.

It was cool, drizzly and well past midnight when we left La Tupina.  As we walked out of the restaurant, there was Jean-Pierre sitting under the awning at a table with two friends.  The light from the restaurant, coupled with the mist from the rain, and the fact that they were the only people you saw as you peered down the street, made the scene look as if it had been set for a film, one that would show la belle vie in France.

We walked over to say goodnight and joined the men briefly as they savored the last of their cigars and Armagnac.  We were there for just a minute, but I left with a feeling that the trio was, indeed, enjoying a moment rare for many of us, but seemingly a regular part of their lives.  That the men were friends who truly cared about one another seemed evident; that they knew they were lucky to have this special time together seemed even clearer. 

And I wasn't the only one to be struck by the scene and the feelings it evoked.  Now, even weeks later, Michael still mentions that moment - it's become a touchstone for what it look likes to be caught in the act of relishing life.

As we were leaving, Jean-Pierre asked us if we'd want to join him for coffee and his morning walk around the city. 

At 8:30 the next morning when Jean-Pierre pulled up to the cafe on his candy-apple red scooter, you'd have thought the mayor had arrived.  Everyone waved and the waitress had his coffee and croissant at the table the instant he sat down.

Since walking was the purpose of our rendezvous, not coffee, we set off quickly, heading for the medieval part of Bordeaux.  Just steps from the beautiful, newly renovated riverfront, the modern shopping streets and the imposing limestone government buildings, is the old city, which feels more like a village.  The scale changes, the buildings' facades change and, when you come to the old church, you can imagine yourself in another time completely.

I remember a lot of what Jean-Pierre told us about the city as we walked, but what I remember best, and most fondly, is something having nothing to do with bricks and mortar and so much to do with spirit.

Every few blocks, either Jean-Pierre would stop to chat with a friend or a friend would stop him.  At some point I said to him, "It doesn't look like there's anyone you don't know.  Is this the route you take every day?"  "Oh no," he said, smiling broadly, "what would be the interest in that?  I take a different walk every day, so that each day I can meet different people, have different conversations and learn different things.  C'est ca l'art de vivre."

Yes, that's the art of living - the joy of it, too.

Comments

[ParisBreakfasts]

I love Bordeaux - such a special place and you've captured it! I've always wanted to go to La Tupina too..Your walk sounds perfect :)
Merci

[Tanna]

I'm sure there are people here who live life like Jean-Pierre but I seem to find more of them in France. Or maybe I just have my eyes more open.
You have certainly captured a beautiful moment!

[Sue]

I love France and you remind me of happy visits there.

In addition, your blog has led me to new interests. Your baking book is getting a workout. Had to buy a cookbook holder to keep it nice.

Thanks for happy reading. I drop in almost every day and joined Serious Eats too.

[Dorie]

Jan, you're right - we learn so much about cultures through people and food. And when the people we meet are the ones who make the food, it's that much better! I think that those of us who are passionate about food are so lucky because we will always find something to interest us no matter where we are.

David - the apple tart with duck fat, the fries with duck fat, the duck cooked in duck fat ... what can't duck fat make better, right?

Brett - it took us just under 2 hours to drive from Bordeaux to Saint-Jean-de-Luz, so it's a doable trip from the Spanish border and worth it for the potatoes alone. A life lesson from Jean-Pierre Xiradakis is the icing on the cake. (Or maybe the piment d'Espelette in the piperade.)

Dr. Behavior, although it looks like I may start calling you Howard ;), you've managed to make me blush. I'm so happy that you're enjoying my stories - it's been such a pleasure for me to write them. (I just wish I wrote faster or had more time.) And your anniversary sounds perfect - what could be better than to be surrounded by family and sweets? Nothing!

[DrBehavior]

Oh Dorie, know that I don't say this to every woman that I just meet, or, for that matter to any other woman I've met - - please, please write me a book. It doesn't have to be about baking and recipes or about places, things, or people; nonetheless, a potpourri of all those things that you excel at detailing so scrumptiously would be just perfect.
By the way, thanks for your kind anniversary wishes last week. Four of our five children came to visit along with two of our grandchildren. So, we did the only sensible thing - we baked your Rugelach (which are now ours) along with the Florida Pie (we lucked-in and found a big bag of Key Limes from Mexico). All in all, we talked, laughed, cooked, swam, hot-tubbed, and danced not once ever having to leave home :) Thanks again - Howard

[Molly]

Oh wow. I don't know what to feel more swoony about: your description of La Tupina, or Jean-Pierre's "art de vivre." Spectacular, both. Thanks so much for sharing them with us, Dorie.

[brett]

Sigh. Sounds lovely, Dorie. La Tupina has been high on the list of restaurants I hope to some day visit. Thanks for reminding me about it. Next trip to Spain, I'll be sure to cross the border and head north. Sounds like we all could learn a lesson in living from Mssr. Xiradakis!

[David]

Ever since I walked in the kitchen at La Tupina and saw them drizzling duck fat on the apple tart I fell in love with the place (

Ok...maybe it was the hyper-crisp duck confit as well...

[janice cartier]

Ahh, yes. It is that willingness to explore, and walk a different way. How lovely. Your writing is the best enticement combined with the photos to go there again. Culture and cities are people and experiences. Well, and restaurants and patisseries too. Thanks once again. All best, Jan