CoffeeBeer >> Double Shot Buzz >> 3 Cafes in Bordeaux
Very recently I took a five-day holiday by train from Sheffield to the city of Bordeaux in southwestern France. Don’t ask why; it was just a bit of a whim, as I had some annual leave I needed to use and I wanted to get out of the country. I know Paris pretty well, and I’ve visited Nice for a couple of days, but I haven’t had the opportunity to see anything else in France. So Bordeaux sounded like a good place to go.
And I was right: it’s a great city, especially if you’re travelling on your own. A port city in the Gironde department, Bordeaux is the capital of the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region. Although the city itself has a population of a quarter million people, the metropolitan area is over a million, making it the sixth most populated city in France. It’s also the world capital of wine, a global centre of gastronomy and business tourism, and it’s home to Dassault Aviation, a company with which I tried to get a job as a CAD/CAM femili programmer/analyst back when I was in my early thirties. (They had no openings at the time.) It also boasts more than 362 historic monuments, making it a great place to just wander around aimlessly, stopping here and there to eat and drink.
I managed to get a hotel right in the heart of things, so I was really close to lots of good wine bars, restaurants, museums and interesting buildings, the River Garonne, and of course really good coffee.
On my first morning in the city, after having started with a machine cappuccino from the breakfast buffet room of my hotel, I wanted to find a proper coffee somewhere in town. And in only a short walk from my centrally-located hotel I managed to find L’Alchimiste, a small cafe tucked into a nook of a street, offering four tables on a front patio as well as seating inside. The barista behind the bar, who reminded me quite startingly of someone I know well, was very friendly and knowledgeable. As it was a bit too cold to sit outside, I ordered a cortado and sat at one of the inside tables near the window. My cortado, which was served in a proper glass topped with a simple rosette, was quite milky -- but hey, it was still morning when many French people were drinking cappuccinos, so I didn’t mind. And I could tell the coffee itself is top quality.
L’Alchimiste are yet another coffee roasting company who travel globally to responsibly source their beans. The packets of coffee they sell contain all sorts of information including the source country, the growing region, the name of the farm, the variety of beans, the altitude, the harvest period and even the method of drying. So these are serious coffee people, which is what I really like to see these days. I noticed that up just a few steps from where I was sitting was their “exposition boutique”, where I could see a wide variety of their coffees for sale. If it had been my last day in Bordeaux and I had enough room in my already stuffed backpack, I probably would have bought a packet or two to take home.
The next morning I headed out to find a place for coffee and breakfast, getting constantly distracted by the scenery and interesting diversions. So by the time I managed to find the amusingly named The Books & Coffee I was hungry enough for brunch.
The Books & Coffee is not exactly a book shop as it sounds. It’s a nice big bistro of a place with an extensive pastry counter on one side. When I looked at the menu I was a bit overwhelmed by the choices: fresh baked pastries of all kinds, granolas, bacon and eggs, sandwiches, salads, cookies, breads, you name it. They offer either a single origin or a house blend coffee, and of course they offer all possible espresso drinks you could want, as well as chai, teas, and frappés, and a full menu of cold drinks. They also offer wines, beers (including an 8.3% double dry hopped IPA), and Normandy ciders, although it was a bit too early in the morning for me to want to indulge myself this way.
I ended up going for a Cappuccino and a Rosti Saumon, which was a potato galette topped with a fried egg and salmon gravlax and surrounded by a rich dill cream sauce. It was so rich I could only eat half, but it was absolutely delicious. My cappuccino was served with a large rosette and a square of dark chocolate. It was very good, and I was not disappointed at all.
Regardless of what the cafe’s name implies, it doesn’t actually sell any books, but it is decorated with books (as opposed to the former Library Cafe in Long Beach I once reviewed, with its fake books on the shelves). Besides books the decor features plenty of art and toys, including one of those silver vintage prop planes flying on its own silver stand, and there’s a nice stained glass window towards the back. There is a large variety of seating, including little tables for two, a sofa and chairs, wall counters for laptop users, and a long two-sided bar. It’s really quite an attractive place, and obviously a perfect place to meet friends for brunch.
But why do they call it The Books & Coffee? I’m still a bit clueless about that.
On the morning of my last full day in Bordeaux, I wandered around once again searching for a place to get a coffee, and in another back street I stumbled upon a wonderful little cafe called PNP - Personne N’est Parfait. The name appealed to me right away, as nobody’s perfect, are they? When I walked in, as I didn’t have much time before an excursion to Saint-Émilion, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sit in or just take away a coffee. So I approached the counter and ordered a noisette, a French drink very similar to a macchiato, and said I’d take it away. Two attractive and arty-looking young women greeted me warmly, and one prepared my drink. The woman with the cute punky eyebrows finally handed me my uncovered drink, along with a very sweet smile, and when I asked if they had any lids she went rushing off to search. After a couple of minutes she came back and apologised profusely for them having just run out. I smiled and said never mind, don’t worry, and I said goodbye and went outside to wander around with my coffee. The day was currently dry and wonderfully bright, but it was still quite cold, and any seating in the lane was quite wet from the recent rains. So I strolled very slowly, sipping my drink, which turned out to be not only delicious and the best coffee I had on this trip, but also the best I’ve had in quite some time.
As I ambled slowly in order not to spill a drop, moaning in my coffee heaven, I realised how cold the day actually was, and the fact that my fingers were starting to go white. I regretted not having sat inside at a table, because although I was trying to stall eating until closer to lunchtime, the menu that I scanned quickly looked quite fun and appealing. If I visit Bordeaux again I shall definitely stop in here for breakfast one morning. It looks like they get their coffee from L’Alchimiste, so no wonder it was so good. I was truly, profoundly impressed.
Speaking of profound things reminds me of an email conversation from last year with my Bay Area friend:
In an attempt to prove or disprove the existence of antigravity, scientists at CERN did an experiment on antimatter where they discovered that 80% of antihydrogen atoms, when enclosed in a vertical tube with a bottom opening and a top opening, fell down through the bottom opening. As the author quoted, "Most scientists are profoundly unsurprised by the result."I’d forgotten about the Doors’ numb surprise. I do remember Pink Floyd being comfortably numb, so I suppose one could experience a comfortably numb surprise. But you’ve inspired me to write a letter to my local advice columnist, perhaps about the wisdom of having a uterus transplanted in my arm at my age, and I could sign my query “Profoundly Incurious in Wetwang”.
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