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QUEEN OF THE
SOUTHFrom its medieval ramparts to the fougasse that
sustains its citizens, Avignon offers alluring beauty,
bustling bistros and market-fresh produce nonpareil.
Paul Dring rediscovers the Provençal city of his youth
and loses his heart all over again
Photography Anthony Lanneretonne

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says Antonia Pyemont-
Coughlan, recalling the
first time she set eyes on
Avignon, the Provençal
city where, with her
chef husband Russell
Coughlan, she now
runs a bistro. “We were
driving along the road by
the river and caught sight of the Palais des Papes
and the statue of the golden Madonna on the
cathedral next to it and, wow, it was amazing!
It is so beautiful here. There’s fabulous food and
wine, the climate’s lovely… What’s not to love?”
I had a similar epiphany 25 years ago, when
I first visited the city, a youth of 19 on my first
ever overseas jaunt. I had travelled down from
Paris on a fiercely air-conditioned TGV. As the
train doors opened at Avignon, the heat
ploughed over me like a surging wave. I’ve had
this feeling often since, stepping off planes in
hot climes from Mexico to India, but it’s a
sensation that always takes me back to Avignon.
The city I discovered over the next fortnight
was bursting at its medieval seams. Avignon
hosts a huge theatre festival each July, and I
had arrived right in the thick of it. My evenings
were spent in the square of the Palais des Papes
– a Gothic edifice of crenellated turrets,
improbable flying buttresses, jagged spires and
monumental stone walls that bestrides the
city. As the home of the papacy during its exile
from Rome in the 14th century, it used to claim
spiritual dominion over the Western world.
Here, I would listen to musicians, marvel at
acrobats, test my language skills on implacable
French girls, play guitar… revel in the
simplicity of being young.
Back then, food was fairly low on my list of
priorities – a baguette, a few olives, a hunk
of cheese from the market. This time, of
course, it’s food not the festival that’s the draw,
which is why English couple Antonia and
Russell’s restaurant, Fou de Fafa, is one of my
first calls. “This is an inspirational region for a
chef,” says Russell. “There are influences from
Spain, Italy and north Africa, as well as France.
There are wonderful fruit and vegetables, too.”
This claim is borne out by my starter, a
carpaccio of seasonal veg with slivers of fennel,
courgette and aubergine, red pepper, tomato
and rocket, simply dressed with a lemon pesto.
The main course is similarly well judged. Roast
duck, crisp without and yielding within, is
pointed up by a balsamic sauce enriched with
strawberries, an inventive summery take on the
classic duck and fruit combo. Throughout,
the menu makes judicious use of Provençal
flavours, down to the local goat’s cheese and
the light, bergamot-fragranced glass of muscat
de Beaumes-de-Venise that accompanies it.
Fresh produce aside, if there’s one foodstuff
that defines Avignon, it’s fougasse. This, an olive
oil-enriched bread similar to focaccia (whence its
name derives), is traditionally studded with pork
rind, so was a way of using up every last bit of
pig. The next morning, under the plane trees
in a pretty cobbled square behind the Basilique
St-Pierre, I meet Céline Quezel-Ambrunaz of
La Pause Gourmande, the family bakery that
has been making the best in town for the past
80 years. They specialise in the pork-rind
version, but also bake varieties with olives
and with anchovies. Céline tells me that
when Avignonnais living abroad revisit their
home town, they often stop by to stock up on
months’ worth of the stuff for their freezers.
“They don’t want to be without fougasse,”
she says. “It’s part of the Avignon people. I
don’t know how to describe it. Fougasse is us.”
At La Fabrique des Saveurs, bakers Nicolas
Martinez and Arnaud Bertrand produce a sweet,
spongy version, scented with orange-flower
water, called fougasse d’Aigues-Mortes. Though
I had allowed my mauvais language skills to
feed the fanciful notion that this name recalled
Opposite: bakers Nicolas
and Arnaud (middle, left
to right), whose fougasse
d’Aigues-Mortes(bottom),
revives an ancient style.
Above: English couple
Russell and Antonia,
whose restaurant makes
the most of local produce
in dishes such as their
carpaccio of seasonal
Provençal veg (above
left). Previous spread:
Pont d’Avignon, which
reaches only partway
across the Rhône.
jamiemagazine.com
WOW

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a courtly tragedy enshrined in legend by
Provençal troubadours (the death of the fair
Lady Aigues), the truth is more prosaic:
Aigues-Mortes is a village in the area whose
distinctive style of fougasse was dying out.
“There was only one baker left making it,” says
Nicolas. “It was a tradition that was almost
forgotten.” Nicolas resurrected the recipe,
adding his own twist, which proved so popular
it won a baking competition on French TV.
Everywhere local ingredients and traditions
are cherished. Chocolatier Aline Géhant holds
in balance such hard-to-master flavours as
lavender and thyme, giving the dainty creations
she sells in her boutique a whiff of the maquis.
Myriam Fares comes from a nearby village
famed for its cherries. She recalls that as a girl
she would head out à vélo on a summer’s day to
pick cherries from the trees near her home. Now
she makes cherry ice cream, in season, along
with other Provence-inspired creations such as
apricot and rosemary, and basil and lemon,
which she sells in her little shop, La Princière.
This homage to produce reaches its zenith in
Les Halles market. Greengrocers’ stalls are laden
with spiky artichokes, flat peaches, glossy
aubergines and dozens of varieties of tomato.
At the fromagerie, there are 250 styles to choose
between, while the bakers, as you’d expect, do
a good line in fougasse. There’s rabbit, quail
and local saucisson at the butcher’s; crevettes,
red mullet and needle-nosed garfish at the
fishmonger’s; and, as Withnail would say,
some of the finest wines available to humanity.
Les Halles supplies many of the local bistros.
Avignon has lots of restaurants, more than 300,
though, as you’d expect, quality varies. (One
tourist trap has garnered the most vitriolic
reviews I’ve ever read on TripAdvisor – I won’t
name it, but if you use search terms including
“lamentable”, “poisoned” and “burn it to the
ground” you’ll find it soon enough.) Good options
for lunch include Franco-Spanish bistro EAT;
and L’Ami Voyage, which occupies the ground
floor of an arts bookshop and whose eclectic
décor is as diverting as the rustic food it serves.
Restaurant l’Essentiel, where chef Laurent
Chouviat prepares dishes such as hake with
capers, brown butter and polenta, is a good
spot for dinner. So, too, is Numéro 75, where
I enjoy a beautifully light salmon tartare before
ambling back to the centre of town along Rue des
Teinturiers. The name means “street of dyers”,
and the cobbled alley still bears witness to its
past in the moss-encrusted waterwheels that
once fuelled its industry. These days, it’s home
to the festival’s fringe, and its independent
theatres, bookshops, vintage-clothing boutiques
and café terraces make it a popular hang-out.
Much of the produce sold in Les Halles is
grown on Ile de la Barthelasse, Europe’s largest
Left: The extravagant
dining room at Moulin de
la Chartreuse. Opposite,
clockwise from top left:
Award-winning coffee
roaster Yves at Cafés
au Brésil; La Princière
ice-cream shop; pears
on the tree at Distillerie
Manguin; the fish counter
at Les Halles market;
Théâtre des Halles is one
of many venues in a city
famed for the dramatic
arts; Nina Simone, Alfred
Hitchcock and Malcolm X
adorn a door in eclectic
Rue des Teinturiers;
Julien and Anne from
L’Agape; Provençal luxury
at Hôtel Crillon le Brave;
chocolatier Aline Géhant.
“Avignon people don’t want to be
without fougasse. I don’t know
how to describe it. Fougasse is us”

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City Guide
EAT & DRINK
L’Agape Place des Corps Saints 21;
+33 4 90 85 04 06; restaurant-
agape-avignon.com. Cracking bistro
from local husband-and-wife team.
L’Atelier des Thés Place des Corps
Saints 17; +33 4 90 82 69 53. Good,
honest food and warm service.
EAT Rue Mazan 8; +33 4 90 83 46 74;
6 03 41 99 81; restaurant-eat.com.
Franco-Spanish restaurant that’s
a lovely spot for lunch.
Fou de Fafa Rue des Trois Faucons
17; +33 4 32 76 35 13. Popular bistro
run by ex-pat English couple.
Mazet des Papes Chemin du Mazet
634, Sauveterre; +33 4 90 02 22 35;
mazet-des-papes.fr. Organic farm on
Ile de la Barthelasse, open for meals
at the weekend.
Numéro 75 Rue Guillaume Puy 75;
+33 4 90 27 16 00; numero75.com.
Elegant restaurant in the south of
the city. Reserve a table in the leafy
courtyard for lunch.
Restaurant Librairie l’Ami Voyage
Rue du Prévot 5; +33 4 90 82 41 51.
Reasonably priced, home-cooked
food on ground floor of a bookshop.
Restaurant l’Essentiel Rue de la
Petite Fusterie 2; +33 4 90 85 87 12;
restaurantlessentiel.com. Fine dining
with Provençal flourishes.
SHOP
Aline Géhant Rue des Trois
Faucons 15; +33 4 90 02 27 21;
agchocolatier.e-monsite.com.
Eponymous boutique displaying the
creations of a talented chocolatier.
Cafés au Brésil Rue des
Fourbisseurs 24; +33 4 90 82 49 71.
Packed with hundreds of coffee and
tea blends and coffee-making curios.
Distillerie Manguin Chemin des
Poiriers 784; +33 4 90 82 62 29;
manguin.com. Specialises in fruit and
herb liqueurs, sold in onsite shop. Try
the poire william and olive varieties.
La Fabrique des Saveurs Rue
Grivolas 2; +33 4 90 86 16 61;
lafabriquedessaveurs.com.
Boulangerie famous for its award-
winning fougasse d’Aigues-Mortes.
Les Halles market Place Pie; +33 4
90 27 15 15; avignon-leshalles.com.
Vibrant food market showcasing the
variety and quality of Provençal food.
Moulin à Huile de la Chartreuse
Rue Pouzaraque, Villeneuve ; +33 4 90
25 45 59; moulindelachartreuse.com.
Above: Fougasse is
Avignon’s staple food; the
family of bakers Céline
and mum Geneviève
have been making the
best in town since 1931.
Opposite, clockwise
from top: the Palais
des Papes was the
home of the papacy
in the 14th century;
Rue des Teinturiers hosts
Avignon’s fringe festival;
Spirit de St-Honoré
is on the dessert menu
at L’Agape restaurant.
his wife Anne, who looks after front of house.
It’s hard to decide which dish I enjoy most.
The langoustine with white asparagus and
parmesan, dressed with a lemon-confit foam?
Or the veal tartare, which features caperberries
and an egg yolk marinated in sherry vinegar?
Or maybe the pudding, a deconstructed
St-Honoré, which wows with little beignets
filled with strawberry parfait? Whichever,
I wish this were my local restaurant.
Afterwards, I walk up to the Palais des Papes.
Aside from a few late-night promenaders and
a waiter stacking chairs, I have the square to
myself. Again I recall those nights, decades
ago, when I was here last. They say you should
never revisit your old stamping grounds,
that you’ll only be disappointed. But while my
second time in Avignon hasn’t featured guitars
or acrobats, it has left me with a richer
appreciation of this beautiful city – a place of
stunning architecture and wonderful food
that, whatever your stage of life, will offer you
irresistible reasons to fall in love with it.
river island, caused by a split in the Rhône
to the west of Avignon. It is this island that
Pont St-Bénézet, the bridge from the song,
fails to reach, the city burghers having tired
of continually rebuilding it after floodwater
damage 350 years ag0. Driving along leafy
lanes, it’s hard to credit I’m only five minutes
from the city. Sturdy, stone farmhouses are
softened by profusions of violet bougainvillea;
rows of peach trees are interspersed with wild
poppies; and fields of wheat susurrate in the
breeze, their edges delineated by poplars and
by flaming tongues of Van Gogh cypresses.
Beyond Barthelasse, across the Rhône’s
western arm, is the ‘new town’ of Villeneuve-
lez-Avignon. New is a relative term: it was
founded in 1293, compared to Avignon in the
6th century BC, and retains an old-world
charm while being a little more spacious and
peaceful than its neighbour. It’s certainly
quiet this afternoon. The only sound to
break the hush, through one open window,
is a schoolboy receiving a cello lesson, who is
busy scratching Saint-Saëns into submission.
I’m here to visit Moulin de la Chartreuse,
where they’ve been producing olive oil since
the 14th century. The mill is part of the old
Carthusian monastery and back in the day it
was the monks who turned the grindstones.
Today, farmers throughout the region send
their olives to be cold-pressed on the mill’s
state-of-the-art equipment. The resultant
award-winning oil can be bought on site or
enjoyed as part of a meal in the restaurant.
On my final evening, the strands of my
trip come together in a memorable dinner at
L’Agape, a bistro run by chef Julien Gleize and

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Olive-oil mill, shop and restaurant in
14th-century Carthusian monastery.
La Pause Gourmande Place des
Châtaignes 14; +33 4 90 86 10 84.
Family bakery that opened in 1931,
and makes the best savoury
fougasse in town.
La Princière Place des Corps Saints
23; +33 9 80 37 58 06. Inventive
flavour combinations from
passionate local ice-cream maker.
STAY
Hôtel Crillon le Brave Crillon
le Brave; +33 4 90 65 61 61;
crillonlebrave.com. If you want to
stay out of town to experience the
Provence countryside, while being
close enough to the city, it doesn’t
get much better than this stylish
Relais & Châteaux hilltop hotel.
A rambling collection of old stone
houses with glorious views over
olive groves and vineyards, it also
has a brilliant restaurant and
discreetly attentive staff.
Hôtel de l’Horloge Rue Félicien
David 1; +33 4 90 16 42 00;
hotel-avignon-horloge.com.
Comfortable hotel whose central
location next to the Hôtel de Ville
puts you in the thick of the action.
MORE
Jamie would like to thank Aurélie
Gilabert of Avignon Gourmet Tours.
Aurélie is hugely knowledgeable on
the local food scene, well connected
to restaurateurs and artisans and
speaks impeccable English. Contact
her to arrange your own gourmet
tour via avignongourmettours.com.
Jamie travelled to Avignon with
CityJet, which flies weekly from
London City airport. Return flights
start at £233. For more information
or to book, visit cityjet.com. For
further information about Avignon,
visit avignon-tourisme.com.
Illustration:JoshHurley