Potjevleesch, the cold terrine that puzzles

The name is Flemish and says it all: potje, the little pot, vleesch, the meat. It is a terrine of white meats, chicken, rabbit and pork depending on the house, cooked slowly on the bone in a vinegared stock with onions, thyme and bay, then set in jelly in the cold. It is often served boned, as ours is, to make it easier to eat. A dish from Dunkirk and maritime Flanders, adopted by all of Flanders, and described in Flemish cookbooks for centuries.

It was a way to keep meat before the refrigerator: vinegar and jelly protected it, and the pot kept for days in the cool of the cellar. People took it to the fields and served it on Sundays. It has kept its rustic side and its frank taste from those days.

“Pot-yuh-flaysh”, stressing the first syllable. It is also spelt potjevleesch, potjevlees, pot'je vleesch: nobody will correct your spelling, but a northern waiter will smile if you say “pot-jee-vlee-esh”.

Because that is how it kept, and because it is better that way. With hot chips beside it, the jelly melts against the fried potato, and that is exactly the point: the sharpness of the vinegar, the softness of the meats, the fat of the chips. Those who hesitate over the plate almost always finish it. Those who have eaten it once order it the next time.

By its jelly, clear rather than cloudy, which trembles without collapsing and has taste, not just hold. By the meats, which stay in pieces: you should make them out, not find a uniform paste. By the vinegar, present but not dominant. It is served in its pot or turned out, with chips, a salad, and often a blonde beer from the coast.

On the coast first, where it was born: Aux Aïeux, on the Dunkirk seafront, serves it on the terrace facing the sea. And in our houses in Lille and Flanders, where it sits on the regional platters next to carbonade and welsh, for those who want a taste before committing. To pick a house, the guide to Lille's estaminets gives each one's menu and hours.