Simple pleasures

Renowned French chef Paul Bocuse owns, among other wide-ranging businesses, a high-priced, elegant restaurant in Collonges au Mont d’Or, just outside of Lyon. But in the introduction to one of his cookbooks, Bocuse dans votre cuisine (Bocuse in Your Kitchen), he describes some of the best meals he’s ever had as being the most simple ones. Over the years, I’ve thought about this statement several times and realized that it’s true. Yet, “simple” does not necessarily imply “inexpensive”; it has more to do with getting basic ingredients of high quality, and preparing them in an uncomplicated way. We had such a dinner at home the other night.

Monday is le jour de marché (“outdoor market day”) on the main street in Bédoin and, even though the vendors are few at this time of the year, we make it a point to stop by and buy a few things. For two weeks in a row now, we’ve found two fishmongers or poissoniers side by side in the same spot on the rue de l’Abbé Durand, place des Écoles. Both have an array of fresh fish and shellfish, but we have bought from the second guy whose selections are more limited but whose prices are better. This week he had a nice big piece of a fish called lieu jaune that he would cut steaks off of for his customers. We had no idea what kind of fish it was (it turned out to be a type of pollock), but he assured us that it was fresh from la Bretagne and had not too strong a taste. From other vendors we also picked up some olives au piment (spicy olives that had some kind of yellow beans mixed in) and a nice big head of Boston lettuce.

Back home, I searched the Internet for pollock recipes and the only one I had the ingredients for called for browning the fish quickly in butter, removing it from the pan, and then making a kind of piccata sauce with butter, capers, olives, and lemon. My Internet search had told me that pollock was “a poor man’s lobster” and, while many Mainers might dispute that estimation, the fish itself was delicious. Served with basmati rice and the sauce, prepared with those spicy olives, it was a great plat principal.


The day before, after our long walk, I had started preparing dinner and realized we were short on olive oil. Ray went out to get some, but Shopi wasn’t open, so he had to opt for the smaller Vival across the street from the supermarket. The choices in oil were limited; he finally got home with an apologetic: “I just bought a bottle of olive oil that cost 14 euros 95!” We had never before—in France or the U.S.—purchased a medium-sized (50cl or about 17oz.) bottle of oil for the equivalent of nearly twenty dollars! This is obviously not a cooking oil, but Monday night’s salad, made only with lettuce and a plain vinaigrette, was terrific! Upon further research we learned that this particular olive oil from Nyons (the final "s" is pronounced, by the way), northeast of Vaison-la-Romaine, was the first ever to be awarded the A.O.C. designation. Well deserved, I’d say.

So there you have it: a piece of fish, rice, and a salad, served with an Alsatian Riesling from Klipfel. What could be simpler…or more delightful.