Lentilles du Puy

I love legumes: dried chickpeas, lentils, and black-eyed peas form a large part of my diet. Lentils are an especial favorite and I have been eating them all my life. They were a constant at my restaurant and our pantry stocked 7 to 10 kinds at any given time to give us the flexibility to make any dish that we wanted.

My love of lentils started early. When I was a youngster, my mom would cook big pots of lentil soup with kielbasa and I would be in hog heaven. As I grew older and had my own apartment, I discovered that lentils come in different colors at a local high-end market. Trips for work exposed me to Indian restaurants and the range of daal so common to that cuisine. Then, in my first foray into the wine business on a buying trip to France, I fell in love with the green lentils called lentilles (vertes) du Puy which have turned out to be my favorite. Opening a restaurant gave me access to many more kinds of lentils including the amazing tiny black lentils called beluga, after the caviar.

These days, I am limited to the lentils that our local grocery stocks. There are the ubiquitous brown lentils, of course. But they also have a bulk section in which I can buy all the Puy lentils that I want!

Pan-Seared Steelhead Trout on Puy Lentils

Along with saucisse aux lentilles, sausage and lentils, a staple of French cafés, bistros, and quotidian restaurants is saumon aux lentilles, salmon with lentils, a classic pairing. Here in Oregon, we have access to amazing salmon of many species. For my version of salmon and lentils, I chose a really fatty side of steelhead trout. While not technically a salmon (but in the family), steelhead trout is the ocean going form of rainbow trout. For all intents and purposes, the flesh looks, cooks, and tastes like salmon. It is totally interchangeable with salmon.

Flavorings for the Lentils

There are two tricks for cooking the small green and black lentils. The first trick is that they readily absorb flavors, so the more flavor you add to the broth, the better. Above, you see that I am using garlic and shallot, both minced, as well as a bouquet garni of a sprig of lovage, a bundle of thyme, and a bunch of Italian parsley stems.

Lovage is a vastly underappreciated celery-like herb that has the most incredibly haunting flavor. It was a priority to plant lovage when we first moved to our new home here in Oregon. I can no longer cook without it.

Ready to Cook

Besides taking flavor from these seasonings, the lentils also pick up the base flavor of the broth, so I used about a quart and a half of chicken stock that I had just made from the bones and skin leftover from breaking down a tray of chicken thighs.

Cooked Lentils, Bouquet Garni on Top

The second trick is not to overcook the lentils. I cover the lentils by about a finger width of broth and then bring them up to a gentle simmer. At this point, I keep an eye on the broth level, adding more if necessary. After about 15 minutes, I am tasting the lentils frequently until they are just done. This pot took exactly 20 minutes. You want the lentils firm, so that they hold their shape, without having a crunchy, raw center.

At this point, if there is any liquid left in the lentils, you have the option of draining them (but save the tasty liquid for soup!) if you want. My pot didn't really have liquid to drain. If you are going to serve them warm, you can dress them with a vinaigrette or a pat of butter, but they are delicious plain. Or you can refrigerate them and make a cold salad from them the next day.

And that's a brief tutorial on cooking my favorite lentils. I'm not alone in my love for them. They are so valued by the French that they have their own AOC and AOP, reserved name status. Nobody but the growers in the Haute-Loire can call their lentils du Puy. By analogy, in a sea of sparkling wine and lentils, for me, lentilles vertes du Puy are the Champagne of lentils.