LA VIE EN CIDRE
JUST BEFORE WE LAND at Orly Airport, the Air France fight attendant asks if Paris is my final destination. “Actually, I’m driving to Le Perche,” I reply.
“Never heard of it,” she says, shrugging, as she pushes her cart down the aisle.
This little-known part of lower Normandy—far from the D-Day beaches—may still be one of France’s best-kept secrets. For now, at least. Travelers are starting to take notice, thanks in part to the 2018 reopening of D’une Île, a rustic country hotel and restaurant run by the Parisian chef Bertrand Grébaut.1 I, however, am going for the apples.
Ninety miles west of Paris, I and their branches are full of fruit. I pass by stone manors and humble farms, their pastures bordered by ancient hedgerows so dense, they form giant tunneled walkways.
