Le poisson

Provence's southern border is the salty, glittering mediterranean sea, and so it is unsurprising that fish and seafood play essential roles in the Provencal diet.

Daily or weekly fish markets are a common sight, and fishing forms a significant part of the local economy. Perhaps the most famous market is that of Marseille's old port, where the fish arrive on tiny boats to slip and slide their way into large trays, and are sold within seconds. It doesn't get much fresher than that.



And all sorts of interesting and unusual creatures can be found on those markets - shell fish, urchins, rock fish, oysters by the hundred... And you can be sure that there will be an army of mamies hovering like seagulls, ready to elbow you out of the way for the freshest catch.

There are countless fish and seafood recipes that I could mention here, but I cannot realistically introduce you to fish in Provence without talking about two fantastic dishes: bouillabaisse and aïoli.

Bouillabaisse is a wonderfully rich fish soup, garnished with potatoes, vegetables, toasts with a garlic and safran mayonnaise, and of course a magnificent selection of fresh fish and sea food. I have heard many stories about the origins of bouillabaisse, and the meanings of the name of this dish itself. My favourite, which may or may not be true, is that the bouillabaisse was originally a peasant dish, for fishermen and their families, made by boiling all the ugly, misshapen creatures caught but not sold that day, in the bottom of a barrel, with some veg thrown in. The fishmonger who told me this tale also reliably(??) informed me that the word bouillabaisse is a combination of two old Occitan words, meaning "boil in the bottom". I like this story a lot, mainly because it is true that the rock fish traditionally used in the soup are fantastically ugly things that you would never want to find steamed, whole, on your plate. Whatever its origins, bouillabaisse is one of the most famous and most expensive dishes in France, and there are several great places to eat it in and around Marseille. Having only tasted it once, albeit it in one of the most famous bouillabaisse restaurants in town, I would not dare to make any suggestions as to where to go. But I will offer one bit of advice - the portions are so vast; don't eat for 24 hours before you have bouillabaisse!

Aïoli, however, is a much more affordable, every day dish which I personally appreciate just as much as a 100 euro bouillabaisse. It consists of a fiercy garlicy mayonnaise (the aïoli) which accompanies a plate of simple tastes. These usually include desalted salt cod, boiled in unseasoned water, a selection of boiled vegetables (carrots, courgettes, potatoes, beetroot, green beans...), boiled eggs and, if you're lucky, bulots (sea snails). This selection of delights, dipped into the mayonnaise, often grace the lunch specials menu in Provencal restaurants on a Friday, and early Friday morning chefs can be seen whipping up enormous bowls of yellowy, garlicy dips.

Aioli is relatively simple to make - all you need to do is crush up plenty of garlic in a pestle and mortar, to which you add egg yolks. Once nicely whisked, slowly drizzle in olive oil, whisking continuously, until the mayonnaise begins to form.

Or you could just cheat and buy it in a jar, like I do!







Le pastis

Pastis is widely considered to be the drink of Provence, and not without good reason. It is rare to come across a man in this part of the world who does not like a Pastis or four before tucking in to dinner.

An aniseed flavoured spirit made from licorice root and sugar, pastis is a dark golden coloured liquid which must be diluted for consumption. It is often served neat in a tall glass, with a jug of water and ice cubes, and it is up to the drinker to dilute it to perfection (the recommended dose being 5 parts water to 1 part pastis). The end result is a milky, cloudy coloured liquid, with a strong aniseed taste.

Pastis was originally marketed by Paul Ricard, an entrepreneur marseillais, between the two world wars. (Production of pastis was actually banned under the Vichy regime, but the right to manufacture it was reinstated in 1944.) The Ricard name has since become synonymous with pastis, and it is not unusual to hear locals ordered a "Ricard" in a bar. A second brand, 51 (so named because of the recommended 5-1 dosage), later became equally as popular, and all serious pastis-lovers are faithful to one brand or the other. Several other brand names exist, such as the Corsican Casanis.

It's all a bit hazy, but I vaguely remember a night in a Marseille bar where a friend decided that it was time for my pastis education to begin... This particular bar stocked several varieties of pastis, and so a glass of each was ordered for me, so that I could taste them all and choose my favourite. After the third or fourth glass, they all begin to taste the same, and I couldn't remember the names of the ones that I had already drunk...! Luckily, women in Provence tend to prefer a glass of vin doux, a sweet wine made with the muscat grape, or a glass of local rosé with an ice cube, and so I rarely have to call on my blurry pastis knowledge...

Several traditional Provençal dishes use pastis, including the famous gambas flambées au pastis - fat prawns fried in pastis and garlic, and then set fire to to burn off the alcohol. But perhaps my favourite is a daurade au pastis - Jon Dory marinaded in pastis and baked in the oven (or on the coals of a barbecue).

This recipe couldn't be simpler:

For one person:

 - 1 Jon Dory, cleaned but whole
 - 1 small glass of pastis
 - 3 glasses of water
 - 1 small onion, or 2 shallots
 - A few thin slices of fennel

Marinade the fish in a bowl with the pastis and water for at least 2 hours.
Gently fry the onion and fennel slices in olive oil, until just cooked.
Remove the fish from the marinade, and stuff it with the onion and fennel mix.
Wrap in silver foil or baking parchment, and roast for 20 minutes in a hot oven (200°C) or on a barbecue.

This works equally well with trout, if you can't get JDs (although I do love their grumpy little faces)