SMOKED MACKEREL KEDGEREE

This takes no time at all to whip up and makes the perfect breakfast for Christmas day. Change the mackerel for kippers, if you're anything like my Dad, or throw in trimmings of last night's smoked salmon.

Smoked mackerel kedgeree

Serves 2

2 free-range eggs

good drizzle olive oil

knob of butter

1/2 banana shallot, sliced

1 clove garlic, chopped

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

1/4 tsp turmeric

250g cooked basmati rice

handful spinach leaves, washed and roughly sliced

150g smoked mackerel fillets, skin removed

handful dill leaves, roughly chopped

lemon wedges to serve

 
1. Bring a pan of water to the boil and cook the eggs for 5 minutes until soft boiled. Drain and rinse under cold water before peeling and slicing in half.
2. Meanwhile, heat the olive oil and the butter in a frying pan and fry the shallot for a few minutes until just softened. Add the garlic, cumin, cayenne and turmeric and fry for a further 2 minutes.
3. Stir in the rice until coated in the spices and hot through. Add the spinach and fry until wilted then flake in the mackerel and stir in the dill. Season and squeeze in lemon juice to taste. Serve with the soft-boiled eggs.

CRAB AND BROWN SHRIMP GRATIN

Something for the weekend

Serves 2 with a jacket potato and salad

knob of butter, plus extra for greasing

1 onion, grated or finely chopped

1 garlic clove, crushed

Splosh of brandy

1 1/2 tsp plain flour

150ml whole milk

1 tsp English mustard

1/2 wholegrain mustard

1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce

pinch nutmeg

200g mix brown and white crab meat

small handful of tarragon and/or parsley leaves, chopped

75g brown shrimp

lemon juice to taste

50g breadcrumbs, from a coarse, stale loaf

1 tbsp chopped hazelnuts (optional)

20g parmesan

olive oil for drizzling

Heat the oven to 180C/fan160/gas mark 4. Melt the butter in a saucepan over a medium-low heat. Fry the onion for 10 minutes, covered, until softened then add the garlic. Pour in the brandy, increase the heat and bubble for a couple of minutes. Stir in the flour and fry for a further 2 minutes. Gradually incorporate the milk, stirring, to thicken. Stir through the mustards, Worcestershire sauce and nutmeg, adding more to taste, if you like. 

Fold the brown and white crab, herbs and half the shrimp into the sauce. Season well with salt, pepper and the lemon juice to taste, then pour into a small ovenproof dish or two ramekins. Mix the breadcrumbs and hazelnuts, if using, with the cheese and the remaining brown shrimp and sprinkle onto the crab. Drizzle generously with olive oil, then slide into the oven. Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until golden and bubbling. Remove from the oven and serve immediately.

EASTER EGGS

The fasting is almost over, so feast on this for the Bank Holiday breakfast. Happy Easter!

SCRAMBLED EGGS with NEW BRIT ASPARAGUS and HOT SMOKED TROUT
on SOURDOUGH BREAD

Self-explanatory but crisp the bread and butter it hot, keep the eggs soft, the asparagus al dente and the trout gently warmed in the oven.

Eggsquisite. (Had to be done).

O OYSTERS, COME AND WALK WITH US.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

[...]

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

Drizzled with hot tabasco, a little chew and down the gullet in one gulp. This poem used to make me, like the Walrus, weep for the poor helpless oysters of Alice in Wonderland, but after my first shelled'n yesterday, I can only see reason in the actions of the hungry Carpenter. 'Cut us another slice' he says - how could you not?

I'm a seagirl, me, but have waited years for the opportunity of tasting an oyster to come about. It used to confuse me, the hype of oysters. What could be so out of this world about shifting down a green, spineless, globule of wetness? I must profess though, whether or not swayed by the raves of others, the two I had were incredibly special.

My habit for an oyster, I fear, will become an expensive one, but I see it only right that I make it my mission to have at least one plate a year of the wobbly slurps to make up for the decades swallowed without.

For those oyster fanciers of you, please lead me in the right direction so I can 'begin to feed' like the Walrus and the Carpenter...The best you've had, the ones to avoid and the ways to serve. And for pennies sake, those of best value.

SLuuuoooorrrrpppp.

BANGLADESHI-STYLE HAKE CURRY

Working in a cookery bookshop makes you hungry. All day.

The nostril-tickling smells of the cafe; the good-enough-to-lick-if-I-could pictures in the books; the cooking hot line which seems to hit promptly on a Wednesday morning as if by clockwork, flipping open the recipe book in the back of my brain, wishing I could be eating what they're cooking. But there's no complaints here.

It's one of those jobs that, in the best possible way, stays with you after hours. From the haven of the sofa - half of me engrossed in the long slow camera shots of The Song of Lunch, zooming into a large glass of much-needed red wine; and the other tied to my new orange and pink Madhur Jaffrey Curry Easy book - I can think only of my stomach. Again. There's no escape.

Fortunately, for risk of becoming belly-bound, Miss Jaffrey's book opens on a page which gives me the satisfaction of full-flavour but with half the gluttony. Her curry is light, perfumed and completely un-greedy but leaves you feeling perfectly full - enough to say no, I think I'll leave it, to the dry naan bread in the centre of the table.

Having forgotten to buy the ginger, I added a few more ingredients to soften and sweeten the spice.

BANGLADESHI-STYLE CURRY adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Curry Easy

Serves 2-3

3 large hake fillets

2 medium sized shallots

1 clove crushed garlic

1 tbsp crushed ginger

2 tbsps olive/mustard oil

1 tsp red paprika

1/2 tumeric

1/2 cayenne pepper

3 kaffir lime leaves

half a lime

250ml water

1 tbsp honey

2 handfuls of fresh coriander

1 handful of mint leaves

300g basmati rice

In a large, deep frying pan, heat up the olive oil. Add the shallots and fry gently until a soft brown colour. Meanwhile, mix the ginger, garlic and spices with 3 tbsps water into a paste.

Boil a pan of water and add the rice, having rinsed it through with water to remove excess starch. Cook for 20 minutes or as the packet advises. When cooked add half the coriander and the mint.

Add the spice mix to the shallots and simmer off the water. Then add the 250ml water and simmer adding the lime and kaffir leaves to infuse into the sauce. Simmer for 2 minutes. Pour in the honey. Gently lie the hake fillets into the pan and cook on a gentle heat. Turn over after 2-3 minutes and cook them for another couple of minutes until cooked through.

Put the rice in bowls and place the fillet on top, pouring over the sauce, and distributing the shallots in equal measure for each bowl. Garnish with coriander and serve with a spoonful of natural yogurt.

If you like more sauce, add a tin of coconut milk just before adding the fish, and follow the process as normal.

This would work well with any other white fish, or chicken if you prefer two legs to no legs. A quick and detoxifying treat for the under-nourished and over-fed.

GUEST BLOG:Alice Brady

Dance to your Daddy with Alice's dive into the world of fish pie...

In Pursuit of Perfection

It has become apparent to me of late that I am officially an addict. I have seen it occur in so many friends; that first try and taste hooking them in instantly, an inability to break away from it and try new things. My drug of choice: the fish pie. It started with my auntie’s classic version; creamy, rich and filled with perfectly cooked meaty white fish. Since then I have embarked upon my own journey of discovery by attempting to create my version of the perfect fish pie.

This is definitely easier said than done. A friend of mine has been perfecting macaroni and cheese for a good ten years now. With each version come new ideas and combinations, all of which reveal themselves to be delicious concoctions, yet how do you decide on the ultimate? I fear there is no ending to this task. Don’t get me wrong, I am thoroughly enjoying the process; what could be better than the excuse to cook and eat your preferred dish on a regular basis under the disguise of research? What worries me is that I shall go off the dish due to over indulgence before having achieved perfection!

Anyway, enough of my fears, lets talk about fish pie. I am truly at the starting line as this is only my second attempt. The first was a taste if not an aesthetic success; I learnt my lesson about sticking to measurements and using the right equipment, as the “pie” took on the effect of having been pureed due to a too thin roux and the use of a metal roasting tray in place of an oven dish. The taste however, saved me; freshly shelled summer peas, smoked haddock, large succulent prawns, dill and a touch of Dijon mustard. All in all, a job well done.

My second attempt this evening did in fact exceed my own expectations. I gently cooked leeks in a small amount of butter, salt and pepper and layered them on the bottom of the dish (I was lucky enough to be given an earthenware dish for my birthday, perfect for these experimental evenings, from one of the guinea pigs of my first attempt). I poached smoked haddock in milk and white wine and left it to cool whilst I made the roux. Having used the correct measurements I managed to create a lovely think consistency using the milk the fish had been poaching in and adding double cream, a few good dollops of Dijon mustard, a little more white wine and fresh parsley. Once I’d folded the fish and the prawns into the mixture I spooned it on top of the leeks and let it sit for a while. Apparently, leaving it to cool for a time makes it easier to spread the mash onto it (thank you Diana Henry). Of course, as the purist that I am, the only thing this could be topped with was a wonderfully creamy, fluffy mash. The next thirty minutes proved to be torture as we could smell it and hear it bubbling way in the oven. When it finally emerged the potato had taken on a lovely golden colour whilst the sauce had just started to bubble out of the sides. Yummy!!!!!

I am not one to blow my own trumpet so I therefore urge you to try it at home and discover the wonders of a good home made fish pie; perfect for a wet, autumn evening with a few friends and a bottle of wine. If that one doesn’t appeal I have been working on the next concoction involving sweet potato mash. I’ll keep you updated.

A NEW LOVE FOR...

Anchovies. Little bone ridden creatures, sea bound until on the plate, and all too similar to the feel and taste of a cat's fur ball.

Until recently, the word 'anchovy' was one of those which, along with 'custard' and 't-t-t-trifle', would make me shudder at the mere mention. I'm not fussy, but who can trust eating a hairy fish, something you can walk on without sinking, or cake mixed with jelly with said wobbly, yellow slide? Not me.

But since working at Books For Cooks, anchovies have miraculously - just like that - been wiped from the list. I see them no longer as a water vermin but as salty delights to be gobbled at every opportunity. They are too, as I am often persuaded, an almighty hangover cure.

So to show my new love for anchovies, here is a recipe inspired by a Sicilian dish I ate last year, where sardines replaced the anchovies, and by Clara's Mum's special anchovy and broccoli spaghetti. This dish is a great way to ease you in lightly; the anchovies are hidden, cleverly melted into the onions. If you're a hater, it'll turn you; if you're a lover...well, need I say more?

ANCHOVY SPAGHETTI

SERVES 2-3
200g broccoli, stemmed
300g good spaghetti
100g pine nuts, roasted
1 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 white onion, finely chopped
50-75g anchovy fillets in olive oil
100g raisins
handful of parsley leaves, roughly chopped

Boil a pan of water and throw the broccoli in for 3 minutes, or until it has a very slight bite. Add the spaghetti and cook for 8 minutes or as packet advises.

Meanwhile, toast the pine nuts in a frying pan until golden. Remove from the pan to a bowl to add to the sauce later on.

Using the same pan, heat up the olive oil and soften the onions and garlic on a low heat. Then add the anchovy fillets. With the end of a wooden spoon chop the fillets until they become a paste with the onion mix.

Add the raisins and the toasted pine nuts and mix. Blend half of the mixture with a hand blender or magi-mix. Drain the spaghetti and in a separate, warmed bowl, and fold in the blended sauce and broccoli. Serve on hot plates with the remaining, unblended sauce and a sprinkle of chopped fresh parsley.

I use no salt or pepper in this recipe as I think the anchovies give it enough seasoning, but do add to your own taste. Replace the pine nuts and raisins, Clara style, with oven roasted cherry tomatoes and chilli flakes for some-a-bit-o-spicy-time. (For anchovy novices, add more chilli. No need to plunge in with the ladle before the spoon).

CAMP CORNWALL

CAR. TENT. PORTABLE GAS COOKER.

Usually braving the waves in Easter, this year I am treading water in warmer seas. No, nothing as daring as 'out of the UK', but going West to the wondrous British holiday destination that is Cornwall.

We're heading down to the beautiful home of Rodda's clotted cream, blow-your-socks-off Rattler cider, and the one and only Padstein. And yes, last year I did get good old Steiny to sign my much-loved Seafood book, only to be sympathetically chuckled at when I requested a recipe to cook on my caravan hob...

This year, Rick would have a field day - crrrryyy with laughter, wet his knickers. We're tenting it. HA IMAGINE. Dinner for two under a cramped and smelly tarpaulin. How very romantic.

But it's not going to be soggy sarnies and salty tea. I've got a gas cooker, pans, a kettle and, boy!, am I going to show them some Cornish love.

But I need your help please. Your suggestions, if you would be so kind, of where to buy, what to cook and where to eat it. We have no plans apart from to roam the winding roads of the Northern Regions of Cornwall (Padstow and around), so by the end of the week I want to have fished and chipped (homemade style) in every little Cornish nook and cranny I come across. Don't hold back on the restaurants either - it will rain.

So while you unload your thoughts underneath this blog, here is a fishy recipe to whet your jealousy and imagine you''ll be in Cornwall with me!

SALMON AND CHILLI FISH CAKES


Recipe adapted from Skye Gyngell's Crab cakes

MAYONNAISE:

3 free-range egg yolks

½ tbsp Dijon mustard

juice of 1 lemon

250ml mild extra-virgin olive oil

SALMON CAKES:

250g fresh salmon

squeeze of lemon juice

4 new potatoes, mashed

1 red chilli, de-seeded and finely sliced

50g fresh white breadcrumbs

200ml very clean, neutral-tasting oil such as sunflower or corn

lemon wedges, to serve

Heat the oven to 200 degrees C. Bake the salmon fillets for about 20 minutes until cooked through.

Cook the new potatoes in pan until soft. Remove the skin, and mash with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile make the mayonnaise. This will go into the fish cake mix to make them suupppper moist. Whisk the egg yolks with the salt, mustard and lemon juice. Trickle in the oil, very slowly to begin with, whisking all the time. Continue until all the oil is incorporated. You should end up with a lovely, bright yellow, bouncy mayonnaise.

Once the salmon has cooked and cooled slightly, break into small flakes with a fork. Squeeze over the lemon juice and add the chilli, the mashed potatoes and a large pinch of salt. Stir in 100ml of the mayonnaise until evenly mixed in. Cover and place in the fridge for an hour. This will harden the mixture slightly and make it easier to roll into fish cakes.

Spread the breadcrumbs evenly on a clean work surface. Shape the salmon mix into evenly sized patties or balls. Roll in the breadcrumbs, making sure the surface of each cake is well covered. Return them to the fridge for another half an hour.

To cook the cakes, put the sunflower oil in a shallow, heavy-based saucepan and place over a low to medium heat. Heat the oil gently until it reaches about 60°C (check with a thermometer). Gently - and CAREFULLY - drop the cakes into the oil in small batches and cook for two minutes on each side; they should be golden and crispy. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper.

Serve with fresh chilli oil, the remaining mayonnaise, and a wedge of lemon. Devour either as a starter, with a warm Nicoise salad - soft boiled eggs, spinach, peas, new potatoes - or serve in brown paper for a Gourmet take away (much like what I hope to be doing on my Cornwall camping escape).

Might I briefly add that it is always VERY wise to turn OFF the heat when the cakes are cooked...I managed to set the pan alight. Nicht gut. That's enough of that memory -but the fish cakes were worth it.

Enough scoffing, now for your beachside, camp fire, pub bench tips.

Mr Lobster and Mrs Crab

After a body-crumbling week's work at Glastonbury's hottest campsite (in every sense of the word), my fellow team of Heidi Hi, happy campers and I were spoilt beyond our wildest dreams with a celebratory supper to die for...


No longer was it hole-filling potato pies and stretchy faggots to struggle with, but platters laid high with super fresh, coral lobster and enormous rusty crabs carefully and skillfully crushed, scored and dissembled by Son of a Fisherman come Trailer Dude, Jim.


We watched as he removed shell from flesh, dodging the unpredictable crab juice as it flew metres from the broken, salty morsel. He reminisced of his childhood days at Billingsgate fish market with his father, taught us the best way to dress a crab, and educated on how to tell the female from the male.


Every single piece of meat was extracted, the white, the brown, the eggs, the claws, delved into with one enormous knife and the end of a teaspoon. No struggle on receiving this plate of food, apart from to keep drool in mouth and eyes in sockets; a concept highly impossible when breaking off the rich smooth and pink meat and dressing it with a simple squeeze of lemon...Dribble...


Now, who said British festivals had to be all rain and no sun?

GREAT CATCH by IVOR BIGUN.

There's not much that beats a summer BBQ...

...unless of course you cook the fish you've caught that day.

I'm never been much of a fisherwoman, me, but after catching my first two mackerel yesterday, I can see myself making a habit of it. I'd compare the feeling to standing up on surfboard for the first time, learning to ride a bike or making the perfect cake. Hours of trial and error, constantly waiting for a nibble on the line, and finally it just comes. And all you can do is embarrassingly hoot with joy!

After six hours of tracking down shoals, keeping a look out for a flock of seagulls diving with speed into the sea, we managed to find a calm spot out of the wind. Five mackerel between three of us; a humble catch which made us appreciate our slippery friends all the more.

HARRI THE SKIPPER

The first mackerel was small and pretty - intricate tropical green markings on the skin, and just enough meat to serve as the perfect starter. And so fresh. The smell of the sea and nothing else.

The second was big. A wriggler, leaving its iridescent scales firmly glued to my hands.

Homeward bound, salty and crisp, I pondered how I could do these fish justice, how to keep the fantastic flavour of the mackerel while giving them a bit of a kick? And who better for inspiration than Man of the West and Fish Extraordinaire, Rick Stein? His Seafood cookbook is an absolute necessity when it comes to preparing and serving fish well and I wouldn't tamper with any whole, fresh fish without flicking through its pages first...Simple but perfectly paired ingredients to bring out the best of the sea's offerings. So for my mackerel I chose a lightly spicy marinade which complemented my taste buds and the naturally rich and flavoursome flesh of my catch.

BBQ adaptation of Rick Stein's Devilled Mackerel
(I have doubled the original quantities to allow for extra marinade to pour over the fish once cooked, and add lemon juice which enhances the taste even more)
SERVES 4


4 x 350g (12oz) mackerel, cleaned and trimmed and cut
(if you haven't the time nor energy for a day's fishing then mackerel are easy to find on fish counters in delis and supermarkets and are sold at a reasonable price)
60g (1 1.2 oz) butter
2 tsp caster sugar
2 tsp English mustard powder
2 tsp cayenne pepper
2 tsp paprika2 tsp ground coriander/ coriander seeds, crushed
3 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 generous squeezes of lemon juice
2 tsp fresh ground black pepper
2 tsp salt

Slash the skin of the mackerel at 1cm intervals on both sides from the head all the way to the tail, taking care not to cut too much into the flesh.

Melt the butter in a small roasting tin. Remove from the heat, stir in the sugar, mustard, spices, vinegar, pepper and salt and mix well. Add the mackerel to the butter and turn them over once or twice until well coated in the mixture, spreading some in the cavity of each fish as well.


Keep some of the marinade aside for post-pourage. Wrap each in tin foil so that all the juices are held in. Place the packages on a hot barbecue (coals white) and cook for 5 minutes on each side. Check to see if cooked through.

Simply roll the fish on to plate (arguably it looks prettier uncooked) and serve with a salad (as Rick suggests) of tomato and chopped mint. Open the fish in half and gently pull away the spine. It should come away easily. Pour over the rest of the juice and tuck into best ever mackerel.


If the spice recipe doesn't tickle your tackle, then try a simple filling of horseradish sauce, salt and pepper, and follow the same cooking method.

Now, how's about a good ol' knee slapping shanty?!

MUM'S SIGNATURE DISH

POACHED EGG ON LEEKY MASHED POTATO W/ HONEY ROAST SALMON.

QUICK FISH

Unable to go to Weymouth Seafood festival last weekend, I have been on a mission for fish. Instead of standing in the rain under cover of fish markets and devouring the fresh flavours of the Dorset coast, I have been rummaging in the freezer at home - just as wet and cold, but without the wellies.


A recipe I managed to whip up by scavenging from larders, fridges and freezers - all ingredients dangerously near the sell-by-date (nothing like building up the immune system)- SEARED SCALLOPS, ROASTED BABY PLUM TOMATOES AND SMOKED HAM, WITH GARLIC AND CHILLI MASH. Quite a catch for a Sunday night supper for one...

Serves 2 (more polite and less greedy this way)
Cooking time: 24 mins

8 frozen scallops, de-frosted.
10 baby plum tomatoes, halved
3 leftover slices of smoked ham, cut into strips.
3 large potatoes.
Spoonful of English Provendor Co. Very Lazy Red Chillies
1 large garlic clove finely chopped.
Large pinch of Oregano.
2 glugs of Olive Oil.

First, defrost the scallops if frozen.
Put the tomatoes and ham into a baking tray. Drizzle olive oil over the top and sprinkle with Oregano. Place in the oven at 190 degrees C for about 20 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft and juicy and the ham is crisp.
Meanwhile, boil the potatoes, until soft.
When the potatoes are done, the tomatoes should be too. Leave them to rest a bit in their baking tray.
Place the rest of the olive oil in a frying pan, and carefully drop in the scallops, giving them two minutes on each side, so they have a golden glaze. While you are watching the scallops -no need to touch them while they are cooking, unless to turn them - mash the potatoes until smooth, and add the garlic and chilli.

Serve the scallops on top of the tomatoes and ham - their juices should be the perfect marinade/sauce for the scallops and potatoes.

Need I say more?

Yes. YUM