STEPHEN LYLE

In early April I traveled to Paris and then took the train down South with my sister to visit my father, who still lives there.


Many Sunday mornings, when my dear brother-in-law Jean is not out at his ancestral hall in Normandie, you can find him at the Richard Lenoir Market near Place de la Bastille.  It was totally overwhelming, as always to me, and it was only April.

Our favorite thing to look at is the fish at “Lorenzo”. Lorenzo is, by Jean’s account, a tyrant who can make an employee weep with a tongue-lashing, but no one argues with his fish. Jean’s favorite joke is to ask him with a straight face whether the fish is from a farm, or even fresh. This always produces paroxysms and gesticulations, much to Jean’s delight.  Lorenzo charmed us into purchasing, for 70 euros, two, rather than one, large barbue, or brill.

And right he was. Once home, I wrestled with them and finally deprived them of their filets. I then baked the filets with a little white wine, shallots, bay leaf, lemon and thyme.  Poured off the juices and reduced them, and added as much butter as my sister would allow, which ended up being a lot.  A side of sea urchin roe mixed with some of the sauce added some culinary occasion, but the firm white filets easily carried the show on their own. A most felicitous simplicity, and yet an extravagant abundance. Why is it that fish on the European side, even of the same name, evolved to be so much more intensely tasteful and lusciously firm?  And is it simple coincidence that the women have done the same?

http://www.fishbase.org/Summary/SpeciesSummary.php?id=529