He has done out the lower ground floor of his Auberge in rustic, log-cabin pine. The surroundings are as eccentric and unhinged as the man himself. There is a very happy atmosphere amongst the staff and he kept popping in to amuse his French speaking guests.

We enjoyed an aperitif in a small lounge area. It was a venerable old Pineau de Charentes, a white wine matured with brandy in the barrel.

The assiette of amuses-bouches had to be demonstrated to the staff and we were the first there, so we had it all described by the chef himself. After he had caught a lone moth and good-naturedly grabbed hold of a waiter who wasn't paying proper attention.
The assiette included a small clam, ceps on a breadstick to be dipped in a parsley purée and a mousse of moss. Big, complex flavours. This was followed by a pot of snails in garlic.

The foie gras was perfect, fried crisp on the outside and melting in the middle, and the jus of myrrh was a sensational accompaniment. We had the suggested glass of medium sweet white wine with this.
Each course was well explained with the optimum order for eating it suggested.

The vegetables were interesting. A gratin of potato purée with black truffle, a mould of polenta and parmesan, a ravioli and another I can't remember, but the star here, indeed of the whole meal, was a simple pea bouillon that we sipped between vegetables. It's taste and vivid green colour were of quite preternatural intensity.

The eggs were three martini glasses with a neatly topped eggshell in each. These contained light mousses of egg, bacon and cinnamon, cabbage and nutmeg and quail egg with oxalis. He uses all sorts of unlikely local plants.

The fish was a small fillet of sea bass with Japanese noodles and a light mousse. This was served on pieces of driftwood! A very impressive 'plate' that I imagine had been put through a steriliser. Also some crisp beignets of the leaves he was using as flavour.

By now our tastebuds had been so energetically ravished that Pierre Gagnaire had begun the long walk from the top of our list. However, he need not have worried, because whereas he maintained an awesome standard throughout, Chef Veyrat fell away now.

Lobster is a dish that always disappoints me.  My wife has fond memories of absolutely fresh, large lobster on a Greek island, but she agrees that it is usually lacking. The berce is an interesting, orangey tasting leaf, but the dish was merely ordinary.

Next came pigeon but we wish we had tried the duckling. The pigeon itself was a bit dry, but ok. The sauce however was bitter and we were soon scraping it off and eating the meat on its own. The plant is called Lady of the Meadow; she shouldn't have been invited in.
It would seem that both my wife and I are quite sensitive to bitter flavours.
The selection of small vegetables had been steamed in sealed jars that were opened at the table. They were quite soft, improving taste at the expense of texture; a good trade off.

There was an extra course of a fish from the lake, called fera. No translation was forthcoming but it was very good. Served on a triangular glass plate with a large leaf of berce.
Another extra was a light white vegetable mousse (can't remember what) with a cereal tuille in a leaf shape. Also a shot glass of genepi liqueur, topped with tomato juice, which we were instructed to throw back in a one. Good stuff.

We had some spectacular crockery, including plates larger than some tables. There is a fashion for clear or frosted glass plates just now, not my favourite but interesting nevertheless. Richard Coutanceau, in La Rochelle, had some wonderful examples in thick, clear glass.

Cheese was far too parochial.  Lacking in variety and too dry.

Dessert was a selection of sorbets and cremes, banana purée in a tube of chocolate and a madeleine, which was, no doubt, wondering why it was there.
He advertises that his daughter is in charge of desserts. Nepotism has here achieved its customary result. We noticed the tables around us also had a massive square glass plate of berry fruits and nougat in a basket, with a candle on the plate. We were not offered this, but were too full to protest.

We took up their suggestion of a herb and leaf tea to finish.
We also took up their suggestion of a gentian root eau de vie to finish. This was too much like a mouthful of gasoline to be inflicted on an unsuspecting public. (Yes, I have had a mouthful of gasoline, siphoning a tank with the owner's consent.)

So, some truly wonderful dishes that raised expectations and some flaws that should not be encountered at the price.
I chose local wines at the shallow end of the price list and they were very ordinaire.
The overall feeling of disappointment is fading fast, because we keep looking back on the six superb courses we had; works of genius.