French Gastronomy - Seafood

Silver Harvest - Seafood in France

Fish Seller, Marseille The markets of France, both traditional and hyper-, offer many tempting fish and seafood options. So, we'd like to help you make an inspired choice and try to decode some unfamiliar names.

You won't need us to tell you that the food of France has long been the envy of the world. We recently took a very general look at some of the many good things traditionally produced around the regions, and what you might expect to find in the markets which still play a vital role in everyday French life. Despite the far-from-quiet revolution in the shopping habits of a generation, the hypermarkets don't yet have it all their own way, which is good news for all of us, since it is the small, dedicated artisan producer who continues to provide the yardstick by which everything else on our plates may be judged, for better or for worse. In this respect, the farmer and the fisherman have something in common.

The fruits of the seas, rivers and lakes form not only an essential component of any credible restaurant menu, but may occasionally dominate it. When it comes to fish and seafood, as in most things, France is spoilt for choice. With favourable deep sea fishing quotas, access to both the Atlantic and Mediterranean, not to mention substantial freshwater resources, wherever you happen to be there's always something good in today's catch. So, for those who are menu-browsing, or perhaps shopping in France for the evening meal, we'll look at what you might come across, including some old friends lurking behind the unfamiliar names. And some faux-amis. To minimise potential confusion/embarrassment, in each case we've included the gender - masculine (m) or feminine (f). They are, as we'll see, well worth knowing.

An obvious distinction to be made from the outset is that separating 'normal' fish - poisson (m) - from shellfish - coquillage (m). The former includes both everyday and 'special occasion' species, some familiar, others less so. Cod - cabillaud (m) - remains plentiful, much of it to be dried and salted as morue (f). The latter may appear as 'Fécampoise' - a predictably Norman delicacy in a rich sauce of cream, butter, cider, Calvados and much more. 'Auvergnade', on the other hand, denotes potatoes, onions and court bouillon, while Provence and the Languedoc have their own typically Mediterranean approach. Haddock is a surprising absentee from most menus, but when it does appear it goes by the unlikely name of églefin (f). Plaice - carrelet (m) - is another comparative rarity, but you'll find both dabs - limande (f) and, less commonly, lemon sole - limande-sole (f). All of these items are also to be found in the frozen food cabinets, along with hake - colin (m). Lieu, another freezer habitué, is a potential source of confusion, since it can be both pollack - lieu jaune (m) - or coley - lieu noir (m).

Perhaps not surprisingly, French insults have long been just as willing to draw upon fish analogies as our own. The less-than-comely appearance of skate - a common item, being known as 'raie' (f) - for example, inspired the indelicate expression 'geule de raie' for an ugly or unpleasant-looking appearance. There again, why pick on the skate when you have the term poisseux, meaning 'slippery', or worse?

Despite such minor aberrations, there is also heartfelt appreciation for true greatness. The real stars of the flatfish, for example, are often perceived as requiring very little in the way of a supporting cast. Turbot (m) - the same in French, but with a silent final 't' - is often grilled and served with a simple accompaniment of boiled potatoes with butter and parsley - and all the better for it. Much the same goes for sole (f) and halibut - flétan (m) - more prized items to watch out for.

Fresh fish, Marseille Of course, to carry off this minimalist presentation takes not only class, but freshness, and it is a constant source of amazement to many visitors that genuinely fresh fish is so readily available throughout France, even many miles from the nearest coastline. Some dedicated souls drive through the night to get the cream of the day's catch into far-flung market-places, and even supermarkets often feature jaw-dropping fresh fish displays. Popular larger varieties on the fish display racks include sea bass - bar, or loup-de-mer (m), tuna - thon (m) - and monkfish - lotte (f). Others - eels, for example - may actually be still very much alive and swimming around in large tanks. And while on the subject of these slippery characters, although there's little chance of confusing them face-to-face, menu-browsers should be aware of the potential tripwire between anguille (f) - which are indeed eels - and andouille (f), a cold sausage made with chitterlings. Frequently, though, you'll encounter something smaller which looks, to our unaccustomed eyes at least, rather exotic, such as John Dory - St Pierre (m), red mullet - rouget (m) - or sea bream - dorade (f).

Of course, if you're located inland then locally-caught freshwater varieties should, at least in theory, guarantee freshness. Most popular of these are the ubiquitous trout - truite (f) - which may be grilled, fried in butter, poached in court bouillon or gainfully employed in patés, soufflés, etc. Occasionally, however, the humble trout can be elevated beyond expectation by inspired local flavours, such as the memorable local Chardonnay sauce treatment we encountered in the Vercors or the classic combination with almonds ('aux amandes'). More unaccustomed freshwater delicacies include pike - brochet (m), perch - perche or sandre (f) - and carp - carpe (f). So many possibilities.

The other great French gastronomic love-affair centres on seafood - coquillage (m), whose natural habitat imposes strict quality and environmental controls on the supply industry. The clean waters of the Atlantic Coast long ago augmented the Breton heartland of oyster - huître (f) - production, variations breaking down as follows: flat oysters include 'belons' (m) from the Belon estuary in Brittany, 'gravettes' from the Bassin d'Arcachon, beyond Bordeaux, and 'marennes', which start life in either location and are subsequently transported to the coast around La Rochelle to reach maturity. The round or dished species - portugaises - spend their lives in the estuaries of the Charente and Gironde.

Cockles - coques (f) - may also originate off Charente (and be called 'sourdons'). And although 'coquille (f)' technically refers to a shell, coquille Saint-Jacques is, of course, a scallop - which is why you notice the shell motif cropping up at key points along the ancient pilgrim route down to Compostella. Despite the gourmet image of oysters, etc., it is mussels - moules (f, the masculine being, confusingly, a mould or dish) - which probably have the greater following, thanks to the classic, simple combination of moules-frîtes. Elsewhere, though, they find their way into various dishes from mouclade (in a white wine sauce) to paëlla, which France has adopted as one of its own. Which leaves us little space to consider the lobster - homard (m) - family, including prawns - langoustines (f) , crayfish - écrevisses (f), and shrimps - crevettes (f). We'll just have to come back sometime for a closer look Until then, 'Bon appétit'!