“What is that I enquired” pointing at the unfamiliar words on the menu. Pointy language being somewhat a speciality I’ve developed over the years having less than a schoolgirl grasp on French.
“It’s pike” the restraunteur helpfully translated “a freshwater fish, pike – you know it?”
Ah, pike. In that instant a whole world of assumptions flooded into my head. Pike – a vicious predator which seeks out other smaller fish for snacks; a huge, dirty great river monster – maybe they even have teeth, like sharks? I’m really not sure about that but, when we used to live afloat on the UK’s canals and rivers, they were often spoken about it in feared terms.
I couldn’t quite reconcile my preconceptions with the French word for the same thing ‘sandre’, like Sandra, a name that doesn’t conjure up anything more ominous than a middle aged lollipop lady or someone who might help out at a day centre or make a nice cup of tea.
The texture was not dissimilar to seabass but the flesh was white like a sea fish. As far as flavour goes, not at all strong and certainly no sign of anything remotely muddy going on. It was delicate and pleasant served with a pretty strong, creamy vanilla sauce.
Ah……. the sauces. Last week in Brittany was our first visit to the region for more than 20 years and sauces is something that will remain with us. In fact they remain with the dining experience rather too fully.
Maybe it was because we were in very rural locations rather than refined city eateries, but just about everywhere we went, the food was lavishly, richly sauced. From the oven-baked gratins to roasted meats – everything accompanied with rich creamy sauces. It made me realise how used to low, or at least lower, fat menu styles we’re now accustomed to in Britain.
I know I’m risking the wrath of one the great culinary nations here, but it did seem somewhat overkill. With such fantastic produce the general tone of many of our meals could have been lighter. IMHO 😉
Still, you can’t beat the variety and care shown in even the humblest cafe….the freshness of the produce and the attention to detail on absolutely everything served from pizza to simple salads.
With seafood and fresh air aplenty, there was certainly nothing to complain about.
Brittany remains a region of feasting and relaxation, a true holiday and discussions about the finer points of sauce-making will, I’m certain, seem a long way off with my next visit to whichever train station fayre I encounter now I’m back at work.