I Dream of French Lentils
French green lentils for all seasons + How Judith Jones shaped American taste
For two weeks this summer it seemed the entire world was gorging on the feast for the eyes that was the Paris Olympics. While we watched on TV’s and dreamed of future vacations to the City of Light, the athletes, when they were not competing, were lucky to be indulging in France’s justly famous cuisine. The sole competitor from the Pacific Island of Nauru discovered the wonders of a baguette. A Norwegian swimmer fell hard for a triple chocolate muffin and sent the TikTok-verse into a tailspin of copycat recipes. While I watched beach volleyball under the Eiffel Tower and fencing in the Grand Palais, it was not a croissant or crème brûlée I was craving, but rather something far humbler. All I really wanted was a bowl of French Puy lentils.
Lentille verte du Puy, or French Green Puy lentils, are one of those culinary culture heritages, like Comté cheese or Burgundy wine, that is revered enough to hold a protected heritage designation in France. Round and small with a slightly mottled dark green appearance, this particular lentil has been cultivated in the central French region of Auvergne for over 2000 years. Running through Auvergne like lumpy spine is a series of old volcanoes, or “Puys” – where this petit legume got its name.
On the other end of the spectrum here in California, far from revered, lentils have long had an association with a kind of hippie cuisine. Dating back to the Seventies, cookbooks like Diet for a Small Planet, argued for high-protein vegetarian meals as a cure to the environmental ills brought on by industrial agribusiness. Legumes of all kinds, including lentils, were hailed as an essential part of the prescription.
This last month I also had France (and lentils) on my mind thanks to a wonderful new biography of Judith Jones by Sara B. Franklin. The full title of the book, The Editor: How Publishing Legend Judith Jones Shaped Culture in America, is not an understatement. This portrait is surely the fullest telling of one woman’s quiet but firm influence on American tastes in literary books and food. From pulling The Diary of Anne Frank out of the reject pile at Knopf to discovering Anne Tyler and deftly managing the whims of John Updike, Jones was essential to the literary world.
What Jones is best known for, however, is her shaping of food culture. After reading this book, one could argue that cookbooks as we know them today, are thanks to her. From her long collaboration editing Julia Child to making Indian food accessible for the first time to much of the western world via Madhur Jaffrey, Jones seemed to always have had her finger on the pulse of home cooks while also knowing what those cooks would be looking for next, even before they knew it.
Funny enough, Mastering the Art of French Cooking only has one mention of lentils, as a variation on a lamb stew. Another book that Jones edited, The Vegetarian Epicure, has three mentions. Both of these say as much about Jones, I think, as the times. Jones encouraged Child to add more beef recipes to her original draft of Mastering, in order to appeal to American palates. Child, for her part, wanted to feature more refined food than simple café fare, a category that lentils surely fell under. Epicure, on the other hand, Jones took on as an antidote to the “lentil loaf” type tasteless recipes that were the overwhelming trend in vegetarian cooking in the Seventies. Epicure sought to put pleasure and taste first, the recipes just happened to be vegetarian.
I’d like to think that today, there would have been more lentil recipes in both books, especially if they were actual Puy lentils or the French style green lentils that can be found these days in many American stores. Cooked, French lentils are toothsome and structured with a deep earthy flavor. You can enhance the flavor by simmering in a highly aromatic broth and you can punch it up further by tossing cooked lentils with a grainy mustard dressing while still warm. I surely enjoy lentils by themselves or as part of a “bowl” with salad greens, grilled vegetables, a bit of chicken or whatever leftovers I have on hand – a very California lunch of the moment. Their heartiness would make a terrific base for end of grilling season sausages or rolled into fall underneath seared salmon.
This summer, while Olympic dreams were coming true across Paris and beyond, my dreams wandered to cozy bistros with warm mounds of lentils that changed my perspective about what a legume could be. There was Chez André in the 8th where lentils are served as a first course, heaped onto your plate from a tureen, brought to the table by the server as if you were eating in the family home. Then, a family favorite, Café Varenne in the 7th where lentils arrive under a perfectly moist haddock filet topped with a poached egg which lends its yolk to the dish coating the lentils in a natural sauce.
At home, to appease this craving, the California hippie in me met the Parisian gourmand. French style green lentils made lighter with quinoa, all cooked together with aromatics for ease and flavor before being tossed with a mustard and sherry vinaigrette. It was a salad with feta, tomato and arugula, it was a solid base for seared salmon, it was wonderful on its own, still warm, heaped in a mound onto my plate. It is a dish I think that speaks as much to our current times as it does my taste, and something of which I think even a culturemaker like Judith Jones might approve.
French Style Green Lentils with Quinoa and Mustardy Vinaigrette
Serves 6
Note: If you can get your hands on true French Puy lentils by all means please use them. Otherwise, in the United States you can find excellent examples from California’s Rancho Gordo and Timeless Natural Foods out of Montana. It’s also important to not use any lentils that have been sitting in the cupboard for too long (think more than a year). No amount of cooking may soften them.
2 T. olive oil
1 T. butter
1 medium carrot, small dice
1 small onion, small dice
1 celery rib, small dice
2 garlic cloves
5 ½ cups water
1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
2 bay leaves
½ tsp. salt
¾ cup French Puy lentils (or French style green lentils)
1 cup quinoa
3 T. minced chives, parsley, tarragon, or other combination of fresh herbs
Mustard-Sherry Vinaigrette
3 T. sherry, or red wine, vinegar
1 ½ tsp. grainy mustard
½ tsp. sea salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
Melt butter and oil in a medium sauce pot over medium heat. Add carrots, onion and celery and let vegetables sweat for 5 minutes until they have softened but are not brown. Add garlic and sauté another two minutes. Add water, thyme, bay leaves, and ½ tsp. salt and bring heat to high. Meanwhile rinse lentils under cold water in a colander. Pick through and discard any stones. When broth is boiling add lentils and reduce heat to medium and partially cover with a lid. Set a timer for 10 minutes. While lentils begin to cook, rinse quinoa in the same colander. After ten minutes of cooking, add quinoa to the same pot and stir to combine, reduce heat further to medium low so that broth maintains a simmer. Partially cover again and cook for another 15 minutes. Check occasionally during that time. If liquid is getting too low add more water. A little extra liquid is okay as it will be drained off. After 15 minutes taste lentils and quinoa. Lentils should still be toothsome but not crunchy, quinoa should be sprouted.
While lentils and quinoa are cooking, whisk together all ingredients for the vinaigrette in a small bowl. Set aside.
When lentils and quinoa are ready, remove from heat and run through a colander to drain off any excess liquid. While still warm, transfer to a large bowl. Whisk vinaigrette one more time and pour ½ cup over the lentil mixture and combine. Save the extra vinaigrette to use for salad greens or any protein you may add to future meal combinations. When ready to serve, stir in fresh herbs.
This will serve 6 people as a side dish. This will also keep for a week so feel free to make extra for lunches.