Feasting on the Secrets of Sleepy Sarlat, France

I thought it peculiar that not a single person I met while touring France had heard of this tiny town in the southwestern part of the country. Maybe I was onto something . . . one of those rare places devoid of tourists and smack in the French heartland.

Its anonymity is surprising, considering that Sarlat may be the best-preserved medieval town in France. Entering the main square for the first time with its 15th- and 16th-Century buildings, I was at once reminded of Germany’s Romantic Road equivalent, Rothenburg.

With Bordeaux the nearest city (95 miles), Paris a 5 1/2-hour train ride away and the International Herald Tribune delivered only every other day, I was indeed onto something.

Sarlat is the capital of the region known as Perigord Noir. When a Frenchman hears that name, chances are his taste buds will spring to life, because Perigord is the gastronomic core of France.

Gourmet Emporiums

This fertile valley area of the Dordogne River yields the delectable truffles, mushrooms (cepes) and geese that have distinguished the region’s cooking the world over. Sarlat’s narrow streets are lined with gourmet food emporiums exhibiting these treasures, taking the forms of pates, goose conserves, bottled fruits, nuts and liqueurs.

In the late 1960s the French government took on the arduous task of renovating the entire town, turning Sarlat into a living museum. There are no high-tech piles adjoining the 12th- through 18th-Century hotels (mansions) and religious buildings. Most of the smaller streets and squares are laid in brick and stone.

After settling into my enormous quarters in the home of Sarladaise, I made my way back to the main Place de la Liberte. The weekly Saturday market was in progress.

Chair-Sized Cheese

The market, unlike others in more touristed areas, sells no souvenirs or post cards. But if you’re in need of a live goose, machine tools or any variety of small livestock, you’ll find what you’re looking for. One vendor tried to sell me a wheel of cheese so big you could carve a chair out of it.

It was early September, yet autumn was near. The rain was light and fairly constant, but no one seemed to care. Few umbrellas were evident and every couple of yards an alcove came to the rescue. The streets are so narrow that the buildings tend to keep dry those who pass below them.

As the afternoon wore on, the rain wore out and sunlight broke through. I wandered up the cobbled Street of the Salamander (west off the main square), which leveled off in front of the Presidial, the ancient seat of justice founded by Henry II in the mid-1500s. The bell-towered and turreted stone structure is magnificently covered in bougainvillea and set behind a high wrought-iron gate (closed to the general public).

Across a main road and farther west was a lovely old residential area with perhaps the most beautifully situated public tennis courts I’d seen. They were high enough to see the medieval rooftops of Sarlat below and framed with ivy and even more bougainvillea.

Perfect Landscape

A few blocks farther along a country lane, an adjacent valley was spread before me. At that point, I wished I was a painter. The vineyards and cows, rolling hills and farmhouses and all those butterflies presented the perfect country landscape.

I settled for a late lunch of cassoulet at a covered, terraced restaurant under the stone-tiled roof of La Boetie House. Though one of Sarlat’s finest examples of 16th-Century Italianate architecture, it’s classified as a house and not a hotel. Sculptured picture windows and skylights adorn the four-story residence.

The Maison la Boetie occupies a prized position across from the 12th-Century cathedral, a former abbey church reconstructed 500 years later during the Renaissance.

As I left the town center via the Rue des Consuls, my eyes darted back and forth across the little street. To the left were the Gothic arches of one hotel and to the right, an illuminated indoor fountain and the patterned tiled roof of another.

Back in my second-story room, music crept up from the street. Through a window opposite mine I saw a young boy practicing his accordion under the imposing shadow of his teacher.

Tete-a-Tete at Tea

The proprietor of the house in which I was staying, Madame Laflaquiere (13 Rue des Cordeliers), knocked at my door and invited me down for tea. Being her only guest that week, she was curious about my interest in Sarlat, let alone how I found out about the place.

For a meager $8 a night I had an entire floor of the house to myself. My room had a stone fireplace and an old pine dining table with four cushiony chairs.

Despite its sleepy nature, Sarlat hosts a monthlong drama festival each July and has been the setting for feature films, including Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables.”

The next morning I walked the three-quarters of a mile to the train station. There are no buses in Sarlat and taxis are hard to come by. On my way out, I paid homage at the small yet conspicuous marble memorial to heroes of the two world wars.

Sarlat lies within a 40-mile radius of some of France’s most unusual sights. Northeast are the prehistoric caves of Les Eyzies, dating back 200,000 years; south of the Dordogne is La Roque Gageac, considered France’s most beautiful village, and southwest across the Massif Central is the pilgrimage town of Rocamadour, carved into the face of a mountain.

I doubt that Sarlat will fall prey to the tides of heavy tourism. It’s remote enough to keep the crowds at bay, yet perfectly situated for those who think they might be onto something.

Trains run from Paris (with one change at Souillac) two to three times a day and direct from Bordeaux four to five times daily.

The tourist office in the Place de la Liberte will book your accommodations in either a hotel or a private home. The Hotel Saint Albert is the oldest family-run hotel in Sarlat, on Place Pasteur. Open all year, doubles about $40. The Hotel de la Mairie has charming rustic rooms and a brasserie on the main floor. Rooms $25-$50; closed from mid-November to mid-March.

Sarlat’s streets are lined with restaurants specializing in gourmet treasures known the world over. A meal there rarely runs more than $10, including wine.

There are many gourmet food shops. Windows sport mouth-watering displays of bottled fruits, nuts, pates, wines, liqueurs, exotic vinegars--all easily packaged for export.

For more information contact Office de Tourisme, Place de la Liberte, Sarlat, France, or French Government Tourist Office, 9401 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 840, Beverly Hills, Calif. 90212, phone (213) 271-6665.