Jersey’s Prolific Larder

Jersey’s Prolific Larder

By Gabor Denes

(Jersey Life, 1966)

I HAVE ALWAYS had the greatest respect for the gastronomy of Jersey. I have known the island for a long time, perhaps longer than I care to remember. There was a time in the mid-thirties when I was a frequent visitor, and even in those days, long before I had attained the fully mature state of a sedate epicurean, I used to look forward to my visits with eager anticipation. One was able to live fairly well at that time in England. but, my anticipation was invariably rewarded by delicious meals washed down by excellent wines at very reasonable prices. Ever since I have conserved the belief that the people of this pleasant island know how to live well.

It is not altogether surprising, for conditions are most favourable. Poised between two great countries, geographically so near to one of France’s gastronomically richest provinces, the best traditions of both nations have formed the tastes and standards. The most remarkable treasures of Jersey’s prolific larder come out of the sea, others are grown on the land under quite exceptional climatic conditions. Given the best seafood in ample quantities, the products of the soil at their early, tender best there is a fine foundation for a good table.

An outstanding feature of these unique resources is the compactness of the territory. This means that everything can reach the table in its pristine freshness, on the top of its condition. Living in London, one has almost given up the idea of really fresh vegetables, or perfectly fresh fish and shellfish, but in Jersey these are simple realities. Fish caught in the early morning reach the table in time for lunch, and how different is the flavour of green vegetables, or even potatoes that have not spent many hours or even days since they were picked, travelling and sitting in markets.

Given these perfect ingredients, the hoteliers and restaurateurs of Jersey must be compelled by a form of noblesse oblige; they cannot let the side down, and in their kitchens they produce food worthy of the raw product, and worthy of their own discriminating good taste.

Gastronomic standards have improved everywhere in Britain, from where come the greater part of Jersey’s visitors, since my early visits, thirty odd years ago. The effect of this is an even keener edge to a good cuisine, which, today, satisfies even the gourmets from France, who represent another large group of the island’s tourists.

So today, we find that in Jersey’s top eating-drinking places the repertoire includes the great dishes of French cuisine as well as the best of traditional British food. Is there such a thing as a true local food. Is there such a thing as a true local cuisine? Are there any original Jersey specialities, particular to the island and not originating from either Norman or English cooking?

The answer is definitely in the affirmative, although this is not immediately easily noticed by a stranger. Only those who belong to Jersey, or have lived or visited there for a long time know much about the true local dishes, for they do not appear on the sumptuous menus of the hotels and restaurants. One day perhaps they will be featured with pride and made something of, but up to now they are treated with a little coyness by the people of Jersey, and the stranger has to search for them.

Visitors may have heard of the ormer for example, but how many have tasted it? The same goes for Apple Butter, Conger Soup of Jersey Bean Jar (Des Pais au Fou).

An aura of mystery tends to surround these true local specialities. Take the ormer. I was told that the only other waters in which this mollusc lives are Japanese. One is also told, and this can be accepted, that they can only be harvested on an exceptionally low spring tide. This may be true, and it is equally true that hunting the ormer is a back-breaking, cold and hard job, but well worth the effort. Take the cooking of this rare inhabitant of the half-tide rocks, clinging to them for dear life in its ear-shaped (oreille de mer) hard shell. If it is not properly cooked, it can be tough. Yet some experts swear that only very prolonged cooking can make them edible, others claim that very quick, intensive frying is the best.

I suppose the reason for not finding most of the typical and unique Jersey dishes on smart restaurant menus is that they are homely, family dishes, part of what in France one calls the cuisine bourgeoise. The mixture of haricot beans, butter beans and broad beans, cooked slowly in the oven with pig’s trotters and back fat of pork is obviously not a glamorous dish. of the haute cuisine, but not the less delicious for that. Housewives have their own treasured recipes for the best way to make Conger Soup, another great traditional Jersey speciality, a dish which is a real, unusual joy, but, again, not often offered to the visitor in his hotel.

Many of the old favourites are sweet, unusual and delightful. Milk Floats (Fiottes), Jersey Wondres (Merveilles) were originally the puddings of feast-days, Good Friday and Easter respectively, and Vraic Buns were in olden times taken by the farmers to sustain them when they were working on the beach gathering seaweed (with which to manure their land). The long and laborious process of making the famous Black Butter (Nier Beurre) out of cider, apples, sugar and spices was originally an occasion for friends gathering together and amusing themselves while the cooking went on day and night. Other exciting cakes and puddings worth looking for are the Jersey Dough Cake, Jersey Brown Cake, Gache de Cauelle, the fried Miquelotte.

And for the drink to go with all this? Jersey people are still spared the grimmest duties and taxes on their drink, and one only has to look at the average hotel’s wine list to see that they have the choice of all the best wines and other drinks the world has to offer.