The farther south we went, the more rural the landscape became, and the more peculiar the pastries we encountered. In Poitou, for instance, we laid into tourteau de fromage, a cake made from goat cheese with a blackened sugar top. And in Bordeaux, along with our usual staples, we picked up a couple of weird little sweets not much larger than eggs. They looked like miniature bundt cakes. My main impression at the time was that we should have bought more, because they were delicious, then gone in a bite or two.