It's been all change recently, a few weeks running around here, there and everywhere. At the end of February, my wife and I spent a lovely couple of weeks visiting my sister and her partner in Sydney, Australia. As you might expect, it was largely filled with food and drink. The food system in Australia is fantastic, with lots of emphasis on local, seasonal produce. Even basic supermarkets put ours to shame; piled high with superb quality vegetables, mostly untrimmed and unpackaged. One morning we visited the vast fish market (or course), and had some memorable sushi for breakfast. It was really interesting noting the huge difference in fish varieties available in the Southern Hemisphere. I thought that I was an expert, but this was all new to me. The highlight of the trip for me was a few days spent in the Hunter Valley, a couple of hours north of the capital. I'm rather naive when it comes to wine, so it was brilliant to visit the numerous wineries and learn more about the Shiraz and Semillon that the area specialises in. All in 37 degree heat, as kangaroos weaved between the wines just feet away. Magical.
In other news, I have just started a new job as Recipe Developer at Abel and Cole. I'm only a couple of weeks in and still a little green behind the gills, but I'm really enjoying everything so far and I look forward to the challenges ahead. I'm sad to be leaving all things fishy though, and I've had a wonderful three years working with astounding produce and wonderful people.
Now things are a little settled, it's high time that I kick started things on this blog. Surrounded by food every day, I've hardly been short of inspiration! Somehow spring has crept in and wild garlic season is now in full swing, and I also spied a lonely bunch of monk's beard in the corner of my local greengrocer. I quickly rustled up this dish on sunny afternoon, some simply dressed barley topped with the seasonal greens and a fried piece of local fish. Sometimes it's nice to spend the day cooking and constructing an intricate, complicated meal. But often a few ingredients treated in an unfussy manner is just the thing.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the monkfish:
4 monkfish steaks, about 100-120g each. Membrane removed.
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp capers
A pinch of chilli flakes
For the barley:
1 mug of pearl barley
1 garlic clove, crushed
A few sprigs of thyme
1 bay leaf
1 lemon, zest and juice
To finish:
2 large handfuls of monks beard, roots trimmed and washed
A handful of wild garlic leaves
Fill up the kettle and switch on. Pour the barley into a saucepan and add the crushed garlic clove, thyme sprigs and bay leaf. Cover with the boiling water by about 2cm. Bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer, cover with a lid and cook for 20-25 minutes. When the grains have absorbed the water and are al dente, dress with a good glug of olive oil, the lemon zest and juice and a pinch of seasoning.
While the barley is cooking, fill a separate saucepan with well salted boiling water. Fill a large bowl with cold water. Blanch the monk's beard for a minute, then quickly transfer to the cold water to stop the cooking. Once cool, drain well and set aside until later.
Pour 2 tbsp of olive oil into a small bowl and add the drained capers, dried chilli flakes and a little seasoning.
Heat a non-stick frying pan until it is smoking hot. Pour in a good glug of olive oil. Season the monkfish steaks all over and lay them into the hot pan. Fry for 2 minutes, then turn the steaks over and add the butter. Cook for a further 2 minutes, basting the monkfish continuously with the hot butter. Transfer the monkfish to a plate to rest briefly, and reduce the heat of the pan to medium.
Toss the blanched monk's beard and wild garlic leaves into the pan and fry for 30 seconds, until warmed through.
To plate up, spoon a generous amount of the lemony barley onto each plate. Top with the monkfish steaks and the greens. Finish with a good spoonful of the caper and chilli dressing.
After a brief break for a couple of weeks it’s great to be back with another recipe. It was fantastic to get away for a few days up to the Katie’s family farm in Scotland, where the deafening silence and surrounding plush countryside provided a stark and welcome contrast to the frantic rush of the city. I love the outdoors, but funnily enough I do find that it all links back into my love of food. Strolling through the fields we saw deer, hares, pheasants and partridges along with abundant cows and lambs. I couldn’t help thinking that they would all make a fine feast. Even walking next to the river had me eagle-eyed for wild salmon, now coming into their prime season.
Alas on this occasion, those animals remained only for our viewing pleasure. But when it came to the eating there was certainly no disappointment. Upon arrival I marched straight into town to procure a weight of the finest Stornoway black pudding, carrying it proudly like a child who had won a sporting trophy. That was breakfast sorted. Other meals included hot, vinegary fish suppers (always haddock north of the border) by the side of a wind-battered loch, and soothing barley-filled broths huddled around the fire. All humble stuff, but in a situation that will be ingrained in my memory for a long while to come. On the last evening we celebrated with the rest of the family; I rolled a pig in foraged wild garlic and forgot about it in the oven for most of a day, only raising the temperature only at the last minute to blister the fat into a crisp brittle. I won’t even detail the quality of the leftover sandwiches on the journey home…
I truly digress as per usual. But now back in London I’m eager to get cooking again. Despite running round like a busy lunatic for most of the week, on my days off I love nothing more than messing around in the kitchen creating new recipes. This monkfish dish combined the comfort of a chunky, grilled bit of fish with delicate, beautiful artichokes, earthy Italian-flavoured beans and the tangy, spring tough of the wild garlic and sorrel.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the monkfish:
2 pieces of monkish fillet, approx. 200g each. Skin and sinew removed.
For the artichokes:
2 large globe artichokes
1 lemon
1 garlic clove
1 glass of white wine
1 bay leaf
For the cannellini beans:
400g cooked cannellini beans, drained
4 slices of speck, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, grated
2 sprigs of rosemary, finely chopped
1 tsp dried oregano
1 lemon, zest only
A pinch of dried chilli flakes
200ml chicken stock
For the wild garlic and sorrel oil:
A handful of wild garlic leaves
A few sorrel leaves
200ml extra virgin olive oil
1 lemon, juice only
For the crispy speck:
2 slices of speck
To finish:
A few wild garlic and sorrel leaves
Make the wild garlic and sorrel oil in advance. Bring a large saucepan of water to the boil, and have a bowl of very cold (ideally iced) water ready. Blanche the wild garlic and sorrel leaves for 30 seconds, then immediately transfer to the cold water. When cool, drain and squeeze out as much liquid as possible. Put the leaves into a small food processor with the lemon juice and some seasoning. Turn on the motor and slowly trickle in the olive oil until the herbs are finely chopped and everything is well combined. Pour into a bowl, cover and refrigerate overnight.
Prepare the artichokes by pulling off the harder outer leaves until only the lighter, tender ones remain. Trim the bulb halfway down the leaves and use a melon-baller to scoop out the choke. Peel and trim the stalks. Slice lengthways into quarters. Fill a small saucepan with water, squeeze in the lemon and add with the garlic, wine and bay leaf. Put the trimmed artichokes straight into this liquid to stop them from discolouring. Bring everything to the boil, then simmer gently for 20 minutes, or until the artichokes are tender. Remove the artichokes from the liquid and allow to cool.
Pour a little oil into a deep frying pan and set to a medium heat. Add the speck, garlic, oregano, chilli, rosemary and lemon zest and cook for a few minutes until softened and fragrant. Tip in the beans and chicken stock, reduce the heat and cook gently for 15-20 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 180⁰C.
Lay the 2 slices of speck onto a lined baking tray. Season with salt and pepper and brush with a little oil. When the oven is hot, bake for about 10 minutes, or until crisp and golden. Break into large shards and set aside.
Put a heavy frying pan or griddle onto a high heat. Season the monkfish fillets and cooked artichoke quarters on all sides and rub with olive oil. When the pan is hot, cook the fish for 2-3 minutes on each side, and depending on thickness about 8-10 minutes in total. Add the artichokes to the pan halfway through, allowing a couple of minutes each side until lightly charred. Once cooked, leave the monkfish to rest for a couple of minutes, then slice into thick pieces.
To plate up, spoon a generous amount of the beans onto each plate. Position the slices of monkfish to one side of the beans and arrange the green leaves, charred artichokes and crispy speck pieces around the plate. Finish with a spoonful of the wild garlic and sorrel oil and a good crack of black pepper.
After posting a lot of simple, quick recipes recently, it’s been nice to finally get around to cooking something with a few more processes. I really love having an occasion to cook for and devoting a proper chunk of time to come up with something a little more special.
Over the past few weeks I have spent a lot of time down in Brighton with my family. Although I love the bustle of London, a few days by the sea does the world of good, and I certainly appreciate it so much more than I did when I lived there. Dad is usually in full command of the cooking and we all get spoilt rotten by the amazing hearty dishes that he effortlessly rustles up for every meal. We also benefit from all of the fresh produce that my parents bring back from their allotment. Chard risottos and squash soups have been a plenty, and I think that they are secretly relieved that they have finally worked their way through the glut of tomatoes that have been piled high in their kitchen over the past few months. I am so lucky that my family have always been interested in food, and sharing it with everyone around.
With dad strictly territorial over his kitchen I don’t get to cook at home very often. Having all of the family about also makes it very dangerous to leave any bowls of prep lying around. But it was really nice to give something back over the weekend and make lunch for everyone. It also gave me the chance to make the most of the amazing produce that Brighton has to offer. In London you can buy absolutely any ingredients and the city is awash with farmers markets and specialist producers. You can come across multi-coloured carrots, purple cauliflowers, micro leaves, anything. But this comes at a hefty price. By the coast there simply isn’t the choice, however more reasonable rents and direct sourcing mean that prices can be staggeringly less. A walk up to the fishmongers at Shoreham harbour was a revelation. I was like a kid in a sweet shop. Huge wild bass, stacks of amazing brill and turbot and massive tanks of crabs and lobster. Everything was near enough half the price of the capital too. But what I was there for was the monkfish. I left with hefty bag of fish and a paranoid stance; there was no way I was going to let one of those thieving seagulls fly away with my loot.
Monkfish is a strictly special occasion fish for me. Its price and conservation status mean that it should be eaten sparingly, despite the fact that it is damn tasty. I first had it years ago, served up crisply battered and hot enough to steam up my glasses on that freezing Cornish afternoon. Every time I have eaten it since I have treasured it. That meaty yet succulent texture and robust taste really sets it apart from other fish. And on this rare occasion that I found myself in possession of a whole tail I was determined not to mess it up.
Roasting fish whole seems so underrated these days. I am a big fan of pan frying individual fillets, but for flavour and moisture retention baking fish on the bone wins hands down. The minimal bone structure of monkfish makes it perfect for cooking in this way; they are easier to carve than a chicken when ready. The combination of fish, cauliflower and something salty and tangy is a classic. The cider vinegar dressing contains many of the flavours of tartar sauce, but lightened using just oil instead of a mayonnaise to carry it. The artichoke crisps, roasted vegetables and chicken skin add a much needed crunch to the dish.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the monkfish:
1 x monkish tail, approx. 1kg, skinned but kept on the bone
70g butter
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
½ lemon, juice only
For the roasted cauliflower:
12 large cauliflower florets
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the cauliflower puree:
½ a small cauliflower, cut into even sized chunks
30g butter
A splash of milk
¼ lemon, juice only
Salt and pepper
For the Jerusalem artichoke crisps:
2 jerusalem artichokes
Vegetable oil for frying, approx 500ml
For the crispy chicken skin:
The skin from 2 chicken thighs
Salt
For the cider vinegar dressing:
½ a shallot, very finely chopped
½ a clove of garlic, very finely chopped
½ tsp Dijon mustard
½ tsp capers, very finely chopped
¼ lemon, juice only
1 large pinch of chives, finely chopped
1 large pinch of parsley, finely chopped
Splash of cider vinegar
Approx. 3tbsp extra virgin olive oil
To finish:
A few rocket leaves
A twist of cracked black pepper
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C.
To make the crispy chicken skin, line a baking sheet with greaseproof paper and spread on the chicken skin in a thin, even layer. Place another piece of greaseproof paper on top and then another baking sheet. Put into the hot oven for about 10 minutes, until brown and crispy. Transfer to a piece of kitchen paper to drain. Once cool, shred up into small pieces and set aside.
Heat the frying oil in a medium-sized, heavy saucepan until it reaches about 170⁰C. Using a vegetable peeler, create long, thin strips of the Jerusalem artichoke, then fry in batches in the hot oil. When they turn a light golden colour, transfer carefully to some kitchen paper to drain. Sprinkle with salt and allow to cool.
To make the puree, bring a large saucepan of water to the boil. Add the cauliflower florets and a good pinch of salt and boil for about 5 minutes, or until very tender. Drain well and tip the cauliflower into a food processor along with the butter, milk, lemon juice and some salt and pepper. Blitz well, adding a little more milk if necessary to achieve a smooth, light texture. Pass the mixture through a fine sieve into a small saucepan then cover and set aside to be gently reheated later.
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C. Remove the monkfish from the fridge about half an hour before cooking to allow it to come to room temperature.
Put the cauliflower florets onto a baking tray and coat with olive oil and salt and pepper. Roast in the hot oven for about 20 minutes, tossing occasionally.
For the monkfish, line a large roasting dish with greaseproof paper and drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle over a good amount of seasoning. Roll the monkfish in the tray so that all sides are covered. Dot over knobs of the butter and roast in the hot oven for approx. 15 minutes, basting frequently.
While the fish and cauliflower are roasting make the dressing. Add the garlic, shallot, mustard, vinegar, lemon juice, capers and herbs to a bowl and mix well with a whisk. Slowly drizzle in the oil whilst still whisking until the oil has been emulsified. Taste and season if needed, you want the dressing to be quite sharp.
When the monkfish is cooked remove from the oven, squeeze over the lemon and allow to rest for 5 minutes. While it does, gently reheat the cauliflower puree.
To plate up, carve the monkfish into two fillets then cut into chunky medallions. Spoon three blobs of the puree onto each plate. Top with a piece of the fish and a little of the dressing. Arrange three of the cauliflower florets around the plate, then scatter the artichoke crisps, chicken skin, rocket and pepper on top.
