It’s summer supposedly, but despite the thunder, rain and perpetual state of mugginess, people are still eager to dust off the barbecue. Only barbeques in Britain require additional equipment of multiple umbrellas, raincoats and windshields. Due to this every-reliable method of cooking, everyone is all mackerel, bream, prawns and tuna. Despite being in prime season and wonderful condition, suddenly the humble soles, flounders and other flatfish become seemingly invisible. So here’s a summer recipe that takes full advantage of these delicious fish that can be whipped up in no time.
Turbot, lemon sole, plaice or halibut would all work perfectly with this recipe, but in this instance I opted for brill. Poor brill. Brill is like a child named Butch who turned out to be a bit of a weed. Nobody seems to want to hang out with brill. Its dull brown appearance and large size don’t do it any favours. It gets enough attention mind; “OH that’s a brill” they say, pointing, before finishing with “I’ll have two slices of salmon please”. Brill needs a break. Because underneath that dull exterior is beautifully textured, pure white flesh that on its day gives the prized turbot a run for its money.
Last year I splashed out and bought a whopper. I poached chunky fillets in butter and they were to die for. I fried the roes with anchovies and chanterelles. I even cured a bit. This time I wanted to go back to basics and simply fry a tranche with a few tried and tested companions. Cooking flat fish on the bone results in extra succulence and flavour, and it’s really not that fiddly at all when it comes to eating. A few technicoloured, ripe tomatoes, some wonderful baby fennel and a pile of finely grated bottarga and you’re pretty much there.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the brill:
2 tranches of brill, about 200g each
1 large knob of butter
For the tomatoes:
4-5 assorted ripe heritage tomatoes
1 small clove of garlic, grated
A pinch of dried chillies
To finish:
6 baby fennel and fronds
A generous grating of bottarga
A few fresh oregano leaves
Slice the tomatoes into randomly-shaped pieces and slide into a bowl. Grate over the garlic and sprinkle over the chilli flakes to taste. Season generously and combine with about a tablespoon of olive oil. Leave to sit while the rest of the preparation is completed.
Fill a small saucepan with water and bring to the boil. Cut the fronds from the fennel and blanche in the hot water for about 30 seconds, then immediately drain and shock in cold water. Set aside.
Set the grill to medium-high. Place the baby fennel bulbs onto an oven tray and toss with a little olive oil and seasoning. Slide under the heat and cook for 2-3 minutes on each side, until lightly caramelised and al dente.
Pour a glug of olive oil into a non-stick frying pan and bring to a medium-high heat. Season the tranches of brill all over. When the pan is hot, add the brill and fry for three minutes on each side. For the final 2 minutes, add the knob of butter to the pan and baste the fish continuously.
Remove the fish from the pan and set aside briefly. Pour in the tomatoes and add the fennel and fronds. Warm through for about a minute, tossing in the oil and butter.
To serve, add a piece of brill to each plate and surround with the tomatoes, fennel and fronds. Spoon over some of the buttery pan sauce, and grate a generous amount of bottarga on top. Finish with a few fresh oregano leaves.
This is a true late spring dish that these warm, sunny evenings have been screaming out for. After many months of waiting, I was excited to see the first of the newly picked samphire arrive at the shop, but I certainly wasn’t the only one. This marsh grass has a crazy effect on people, and soon I was scraping the bottom of the box, desperate to salvage just one last handful. Samphire, samphierre, sampher, salicorne, seaweed, that green stuff, the names are endless, and I hear new ones every summer. But call it what you will, it does magical things when cooked with fish. And lamb for that matter.
Following the seasons makes dreaming up new ideas a total doddle, and this recipe is a prime example. In the same few weeks that the samphire emerged, we also started receiving the first of the wild black bream that visit Cornwall and the south coast every spring. These deep, darkly-scaled fish are true beauties, with flesh firm with freshness flashing blue and silver in the light. Closely related to seabass, they cook in a similar way, and are best filleted and pan-fried until crisp, or roasted whole in a hot oven. Even if you do decide to go with fillets, make sure that you take the bones as well. It’s always nice to use the whole of an ingredient, and the carcass of the bream will provide a lovely stock.
Unlike the samphire and the black bream, the mussel season only has a few weeks remaining. As the weather and seas warm for the summer, their quality really does decline, and it’s best to hold on until September before you plan your next mariniere. But if you’re quick, you will still be able to sneak a bowl or two before this exodus. Although clams tend to get all of the glory with their pretty shells and classy spaghetti alle vongole, I adore the rich flavour of the humble, cheap mussel. In this dish they are cooked and then blitzed into a silky, buttery sauce, that really brings the fish and greens and potatoes together as one. But made in a larger quantity, the same method would make a fantastic soup. Just add a wedge of bread.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
1 black bream, approx. 1kg in weight. Scaled, filleted and pin-boned
1 large knob of butter
For the fish stock:
The cleaned bones from the black bream
1 carrot, roughly chopped
2 shallots, halved with the skins left on
The trimmings from the fennel bulb
1 clove of garlic, crushed
A handful of fresh parsley
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 bay leaf
For the mussel sauce:
500g mussels, cleaned and de-bearded
1 fennel bulb, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, grated
½ tsp chilli flakes
1 large glass of white wine
A squeeze of lemon juice
The reduced fish stock
1 large knob of butter
For the Jersey Royals:
6-8 small Jersey Royal potatoes, washed
To finish:
6 stems of purple sprouting broccoli
A generous handful of samphire
To begin with make the stock. Place all of the ingredients and a good pinch of seasoning into a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to the boil, then simmer for 20 minutes. Strain the liquid through a sieve into a smaller saucepan, then set on a high heat and return to the boil. Reduce the liquid by three quarters.
Put the washed Jersey Royals into a small saucepan and cover with well-salted, cold water. Bring to the boil, then simmer until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain and rinse well with cold water to halt the cooking process. Using a butter knife, scrape off the skins and discard. Set the potatoes aside to reheat later.
Fill a saucepan with water and stir in a good pinch of salt. Bring to the boil, then blanch the trimmed broccoli stems for 2-3 minutes, or until just tender. While the broccoli is cooking, fill a large bowl up with very cold water. Transfer the al-dente broccoli to the cold water to shock. Repeat this process with the samphire, boiling for 30 seconds to soften slightly.
Bring a large saucepan to a medium-low heat. Add a good glug of olive oil and add the fennel, garlic and chilli flakes, and sweat until soft. Turn the heat of the pan up and tip in the mussels and the wine. Cover with a lid and allow the mussels to steamfor 3-4 minutes, or until all of the mussels have opened. Allow to cool slightly, the remove the meat from the shells with a spoon, discarding the shells. Reserve 6-8 mussels aside to decorate the dish when plating. Transfer the remaining mussels and vegetables to a food processor and blend well. While the motor is still running, pour in enough of the stock reduction to loosen into a smooth sauce. Squeeze in the lemon juice and season to taste. Strain the sauce through a sieve into a small saucepan.
Set a non-stick frying pan to a high heat. Pour in a generous amount of olive oil and season the bream fillets all over with salt and pepper. When the pan is hot, place them skin-side down into the pan and fry for 3 minutes. As the fish is cooking, carefully use a spoon to baste the flesh side of the fish with the hot oil. Add a knob of butter to the pan fry for a further minute, continuing the basting process. Remove the fish from the pan to a warm side plate.
Turn the heat of the pan down slightly and add the potatoes, samphire, broccoli and reserved mussels. Cook for 1-2 minutes to warm through, adding seasoning to taste.
Reheat the mussel sauce, then finish by beating in the knob of butter until fully emulsified.
Lay half of the sprouting broccoli onto each plate and top with a piece of fish. Arrange the potatoes, samphire and mussels around the sides. Finish with a generous amount of the mussel sauce.
Fish are as seasonal in our waters as the distinct harvesting seasons for vegetables, and the traditional shooting seasons for game. Temperature and weather conditions play a big part, and the variation in catches reflects this. Late spring and summer sees wild sea trout and salmon migrating back down their spawning rivers from sea, and it is the beginning of turbot season proper. Christmastime sees peak molluscs; juicy, heavy mussels and sweet clams. The autumn is bountiful, and almost everything is in great condition as the waters finally start to cool after months of heat. The most visual sign of this is the tide of beautiful red mullet that start appearing, scale perfect and ridged as darts. In the shops we sell two different sizes of these fine fish; the small ‘fritture’, perfect for frying whole as a wonderful evening snack with a glass of dry wine. But the larger ones are worth seeking out, for crispy-skinned fillets and the soft, part-oily flesh that yields that unique shellfish flavour.
In the year and a half that I have been a fishmonger, this is the first time that I’ve managed to take advantage of this wonderful produce. My colleagues swoon as soon as they start appearing on the ice slabs, for many they are an outright favourite. Such special fish deserve a special dish, and this time around I made sure I was prepared.
A good fish stew recipe is worth its weight in gold. It can be quickly rustled up in order to create a special and crowd-pleasing meal when suddenly faced with many mouths. It is perfect when the chills start and the nights creep in, providing a deep satisfaction, and a radiator-like effect on the body. My version takes the last of the summer tomato harvest combined with soft borlotti beans and roasted radicchio leaves. I heard recently that we are losing our taste for bitter leaves and was saddened. They are an acquired taste for sure, but tempered with clever cooking and flavour pairings they are delightful.
A small packet of bottarga accompanied me back from Rome, and I’ve been grating little bits of it here and there whenever possible. I love it simply with braised greens, lemon and olive oil a la The River Café, but it also really makes clams, shellfish and in this case, red mullet really sing. It acts as a fantastic enhancer, boosting other ingredients whist imparting its own subtle and delicious flavour.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
1 red mullet, about 400g in weight. Filleted and pin-boned.
1 medium squid, cleaned, scored and cut into strips
For the stew base:
The bones from the red mullet
3 shallots, finely sliced
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 fennel bulb, finely chopped
1 tbsp sweet smoked paprika
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp dried oregano
1 star anise
1 tsp dried chilli
1 good pinch of saffron
4-6 ripe tomatoes, chopped
1 glass of dry white wine
750ml good chicken stock
400g tinned or fresh borlotti beans, drained and rinsed if using the former
For the roasted radicchio:
1 small radicchio, trimmed and quartered
To finish:
A handful of basil leaves
A good glug of extra virgin olive oil
A generous grating of bottarga
First start off by making the stew. Heat a good glug of olive oil in a large, high-sided skillet or frying pan. When a medium temperature, add the mullet bones and fry until golden on all sides. Tip in the shallot, garlic and fennel along with a good pinch of seasoning, and continue to cook for 10-15 minutes, until the vegetables have softened. Stir in the dried chilli, fennel seeds, paprika, oregano, star anise and saffron and continue to fry for a further 5 minutes, until the flavours have been released. Add the tomatoes and combine well with a wooden spoon. Cook until soft and starting to dissolve and create a sauce, another 10 minutes or so. Raise the heat and pour in the wine, allowing it to boil and reduce by half. Finally pour in the chicken stock. Bring the broth to a boil, then simmer gently for about 45 minutes, until the liquid has reduced and thickened a little. Strain into a smaller saucepan, and discard the now spent flavourings.
Bring the strained stew base back to a simmer and pour in the borlotti beans. Cook until the beans have softened and absorbed some of the flavour, about 10-15 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C.
Arrange the radicchio quarters onto a baking tray and coat with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast in the hot oven for 10 minutes, or until the edges start to turn golden brown. Remove from the oven and slice the leaves into small, rough pieces.
Pour a generous amount of oil into a large, non-stick frying pan and bring to a high heat. When really hot, add the squid and a good pinch of seasoning. Fry quickly for 1-2 minutes on each side, until golden and crispy. Transfer to a plate lined with kitchen paper to drain. Keep warm.
Give the frying pan a quick wipe clean and replace the oil. Bring back to a medium-high heat. Season the mullet fillets well and place skin-side down in the pan. Fry for 3 minutes, and use a tablespoon to baste the flesh-sides with hot oil at the same time.
To serve, spoon a good amount of the stew and beans into shallow bowls. Scatter the radicchio and squid over the top, and pop a fillet of red mullet in the middle. Arrange basil leaves around the sides and drizzle over some good olive oil. Finish by grating over the bottarga and serve.
When at the fishmongers, it is always best to try and buy something as big as possible. Not only does this dodge the ethical issue of eating unsustainable, baby fish, but often it will result in a better finished dish. This is particularly the case with whole fish such as sole, turbot, bass, bream and salmon. A larger fish will yield a thicker fillet, which will cook more evenly and be much more succulent and satisfying to eat than little bits and pieces scraped from the bones.
Of course, buying large fish is often expensive and impractical if you’re not feeding many. But there are a few ways around this problem. Many types of fish when handled correctly will freeze in individual fillet portions really well, creating a few easy dinners in the month to come. Alternatively, you can try curing or preserving the remaining fish. I’ve been particularly enjoying this in the last few months, and see it as an opportunity to create something completely different out of what would be leftovers. It takes minutes of effort and once cured will keep in the fridge for a good few days. Most fresh fish can be prepared in this way; this year alone I’ve had great results with gurnard, brill, salmon and mackerel.
To turn my cured fish into a finished dish, I always consider the final balance of flavour. Oiliness, saltiness, sweetness, sharpness and texture all needs to be judged properly to get the best out of the fish. For this recipe, I’ve used some of the wonderful sweet summer peas and baby courgettes that are right in season at the moment. It really is worth making the effort to shell each little pea properly, as this will remove any bitterness. To counter the sweetness, I’ve made a punchy lemon puree. This stuff is strong, and you certainly don’t need much of it on the finished plate.
As with the last recipe, the seatrout season has now finished (boo!). But good quality salmon will work perfectly in its place, as would a firm white fish such as monkfish, john dory or brill. Just increase or shorten the curing time depending on the thickness and density of the fillet.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the cured seatrout:
1 thick top end of a seatrout fillet, about 400g, pin-boned
150g sugar
150g salt
A few sprigs of mint
A few sprigs of tarragon
1 lemon, zest only
For the lemon puree:
2 Sicilian lemons, peeled
130g caster sugar
½ a lemon, juice only
5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
For the vegetables:
2 large handfuls of fresh British peas
3 baby courgettes
To finish:
Extra virgin olive oil
A few sprigs of mint
A handful of peashoots
First get the seatrout on to cure. Put the sugar and salt in a food processor with the tarragon, mint and lemon zest and blend well until everything is finely chopped. Tip half of it into a dish large enough to snugly fit the seatrout in. Pop the fish on top, then cover with the remaining half of the cure mixture, making sure all sides are covered. Seal the top with clingfilm and refrigerate for 4-6 hours, until the seatrout has firmed up. Rinse the fish well and pat dry with kitchen roll. Remove the skin, then carefully slice into thin ‘D’ cuts.
While the fish is curing, make the lemon puree. Put the lemons into a saucepan and cover with water. Sprinkle in about 10g of sugar and bring to the boil. Drain the water away, then repeat this process another 7 times, until the lemons are very soft. Transfer the lemons to a food processor and blend into a puree with the lemon juice, some salt and pepper and a teaspoon of the caster sugar. With the motor still running, drizzle in the olive oil until emulsified. Have a taste and adjust if needed, you want it to be quite sharp. Pass through a fine sieve and pour into a plastic bottle. Set aside for plating.
Fill up a saucepan and bring to the boil. While you’re waiting for the water to heat up, pod the peas. Add a little salt to the water and blanche the peas for two minutes, then refresh in a big bowl of cold water. Drain well, then squeeze the shells away from the sweet inner-peas. Dress the peas with a good glug of olive oil and a pinch of seasoning. Trim the baby courgettes and slice into thin rounds, then add to the peas.
To plate up, arrange some slices of the seatrout onto each plate. Dot a little of the lemon puree around the plate, and scatter over the peas and courgette. Finish with some peashoots, mint leaves and a final drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.
