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By Root 967 0

72 km (45 miles) west of Dijon, was a high place of French gastronomy when I started writing about food in the sixties (we could never afford to go there, something I still regret). Then he retired to another part of Burgundy, his native town of Digoin, where the canal goes over the Loire in a beautiful stone bridge with barges bringing china clay for the porcelain factories. Among other things, he encouraged and trained Jean-Paul Billioux who, of all odd, square, ugly places, had made the Hôtel de la Gare famous for its food.

I give the recipe as reported by Alexander Watt, in The Art of Simple French Cookery, a book he dedicated to Dumaine who was at that time, after Point’s death in 1954, France’s greatest chef. It was a dish of his father’s time, which he was still eating frequently, ‘avec émotion’. For today’s tastes, you can omit the flour and concentrate the sauce by boiling it down. The country bread Dumaine speaks of was – is – not wholemeal but a huge loaf of coarser, more chewy texture than the usual French bread, though still light and holey: there really is no substitute – I use thick slices of bread made from unbleached white flour, though it is heavier than I would like.

Serves 4

1 generous kg (2¼ lb) chicken, cut into 8 pieces

250 g (8 oz) eel, cut into 4 lengths

60 g (2 oz) butter

1½ tablespoons plain flour

175 ml (6 fl oz) dry white wine

250 ml (8 fl oz) water

bouquet garni

2 cloves garlic, crushed, skinned

salt, pepper

6 slices country bread, fried in butter

No need to skin either chicken or eel pieces – you need the richness for the sauce. Melt the butter in a large heavy sauté pan. Put in the chicken and eel. Cover and leave to cook gently for 10 minutes – this is stewing rather than frying. Turn, cover again and leave for a further 10 minutes: the pieces should not brown or catch the heat.

Remove the chicken and eel to a plate. Spoon off any clear fat. Stir in the flour, cook very gently for a couple of minutes, then stir in the wine and water to make a sauce. Add the bouquet and garlic, and season. When everything is simmering harmoniously, put back the chicken and eel. Cover again and stew until everything is tender. Dumaine suggests 50 minutes for this, which indicates a very low heat indeed. I find 30 minutes is about right if you are using an electric hob rather than gas: it is sensible to remove chicken breast pieces and the thinnest length of eel before they overcook.

Put the six newly-fried pieces of bread on to a serving dish. Arrange boned pieces of chicken and boned eel (remove the skin if it looks raggy) on the bread. Keep it all warm. Taste the sauce for seasoning; adjust it by boiling down or by adding extra liquid so that it has consistency without heaviness. Strain and pour a little over the chicken and eel, the rest round the bread. Serve very hot, with extra bread.

EEL IN THE GREEN (Anguille au vert)

The idea of eel undulating through the greenery of a stream is one that has much appealed to cooks. Sedgmoor eel stew (p. 138) gives the simplest style of all; then there is Guy Mouilleron’s jellied eel mousse with watercress sauce (p. 137), and this great classic of Belgian and French cookery, Anguille au vert. The recipe below gives the simplest combination of greens, and sorrel is essential: watercress could be used instead of spinach (one English restaurateur’s recipe includes onion, chives, parsley and young nettle leaves, as well as wild sorrel for its extra sharpness).

If you don’t grow sorrel in your garden – or on your 17th-floor kitchen windowsill – put sorrel seed at the top of your shopping list. A cook without sorrel to hand is a deprived creature, a subject for lamentation.

Serves 6

1½ kg (3 lb) eel, skinned

salt, pepper

125 g (4 oz) clarified butter

3 handfuls (about 175 g/6 oz) sorrel, shredded

3 handfuls (about 175 g/6 oz) spinach, shredded

1 handful parsley (about 60 g/2 oz), chopped

6 sage leaves, chopped

8 tarragon leaves, chopped

375 ml (12 fl oz) dry white