was probably another ten years before I returned. Even
then, I did not quite feel comfortable for a day or two: if
you go to the wrong restaurants, queue interminably for
the Louvre and look to the Parisians for a friendly word
of advice, you can have a pretty rough time of it in Paris.
The second time I was still on a tight budget and things
weren’t going too well, until we happened upon the
Brasserie de l’Isle St-Louis.
It is a place that has little right to be any good. Just
over the small bridge that links the Île de la Cité (and
Notre Dame) and the more sedate and civilised Île
St-Louis, there are tourists everywhere and many of the
cheap geegaws that bedevil any such destination. And yet
countless visitors to Paris have christened their stay in the
city with a modest meal at this brasserie and not regretted
it. The food is remarkably consistent and the menu today
reads almost exactly as it did in 1978. I suspect that it has
not changed ownership, and therefore no one has felt the
need to ‘improve’ upon it.
Resistance to change can, of course, be as dangerous as
an excessive enthusiasm for progress. Just across the river
from the Île St-Louis, Bofinger has a menu that would have
been largely unrecognisable thirty years ago. True, the
oysters and coquillages are still there, as is the choucroute,
and the desserts are a symphony of sugar and cream, with
a rum baba the size of a football and containing enough
rum to inebriate the first team of Paris St-Germain.
However, the main courses are no longer brasserie fare
but positively gastronomic, and my veal with salsify, black
truffles and creamed potatoes was expertly done.
Meanwhile, across the river, I am happy to say that
the jarret de porc aux lentilles is still on the menu at the
Brasserie de l’Isle. It costs a bit more than the six francs
I paid in 1978 but it is still a huge chunk of meat adorned
by nothing more than a thin gravy, some firm green lentils
and a pot of mustard.
30
HAM HOCK WITH LENTILS
The dark, moss-green puy lentils are traditional, but on this
occasion I used the slightly browner Castelluccio lentils.
They hold up just as well when cooked and have the
requisite rich and earthy flavour.
Serves at least eight.
2 ham hocks, weighing about
1.25kg (2lb 12oz) each
2 onions, both peeled, 1 sliced
1 large carrot
4 celery sticks
1 garlic bulb
3 bay leaves
a few sprigs of thyme
a handful of parsley stalks
250g (9oz) green or brown
lentils
12 cloves
1 red chilli
25g (1oz) butter
1 shallot, peeled and finely
chopped
½ glass of dry white wine
(say about 75ml/23⁄4fl oz)
100ml (3½fl oz) double cream
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons grain mustard
a little squeeze of lemon juice
salt and black pepper
Soak the hocks in a large pan of cold water overnight.
The next day, change the water, bring to the boil, then
discard the water and cover with fresh cold water. Add
the sliced onion, the carrot, celery, garlic, bay leaves and
thyme. Bring to a simmer, skimming carefully, and cook
over a gentle heat for 21⁄2 hours, replenishing the water so
it always covers the hocks.
Rinse the lentils in a sieve with cold water before
covering with fresh water in another saucepan. Add the
second onion, studded with the cloves and the chilli, and
bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and simmer gently
for 40 minutes, or until the lentils are perfectly tender.
Drain, if necessary, and season with salt only now that the
lentils are cooked.
Meanwhile, melt the butter in a small saucepan, add the
shallot and sweat gently. Add the wine and cook for about
5 minutes, or until it is reduced by half, before adding
two large ladlesful of the stock from the ham. Reduce this
quite vigorously by two-thirds, then whisk in the cream.
Boil briefly, then whisk in both mustards. Season this
sauce
