Cuttlefish, onions and lentils with samphire and clams

I’ve wanted to develop a recipe with cuttlefish for a long time now. At work, their peculiar and often very inky forms make an occasional appearance on the slab, but due to the sporadic nature of their availability, until now I haven’t quite managed to steal the right moment. And I thought that this summer would be very much the same, and instead I’ve been largely (and very happily) feasting on its close relations, the octopus and the squid. So when I opened a box one sunny morning a few weeks ago and was greeted by pile of particularly fine specimens, I just knew I had to take some home and fire up the hobs. 

Cuttlefish is definitely something that we should be eating more of in this country. But unlike squid or octopus that are well and truly pinned onto the food map, cuttlefish gets all the bad press. That is, no press at all. Admittedly as a fishmonger they can be a bit of a nightmare due to their tendency to be messy and time consuming to prepare. But often it doesn’t even reach that point, with customers going down the safe old salmon, cod and tuna route. With the prices of these prime fish soaring, the cuttlefish still carries an unfashionable price tag, has bags of flavour and is a doddle to cook. All it needs is a decent national PR spin…  

This dish represents exactly the type of food that I love to eat as we slide into Autumn with a chilly wind and grey cloud of rain. Slow, easy cooking that is all about the development of flavour over a little patient simmering. Food that can be sliced and eaten with a spoon. Now we’re in September, the shellfish will start to get slightly stronger, and soon we’ll see Shetland mussels back in their prime. Samphire is slowly heading the other way, and I’m finding any excuse to introduce a handful into my meals. Before long that vibrant green will be replaced by the burnished oranges and reds of squashes, apples and corn. I can’t wait.   

Serves 2 for a main, or 4 for a lunch or starter 

Ingredients:  

2-3 small cuttlefish, cleaned, with the tentacles and ink sacs reserved 
1 onion, finely sliced 
2 cloves of garlic, grated 
1 tsp fennel seeds 
1 tsp dried chilli flakes 
1 tsp dried oregano 
1 glass of white wine 
500ml chicken stock 
2 sachets of cuttlefish ink 
¾ of a mug of firm lentils, such as Puy 
1 lemon, juice and zest 
1 small bunch of parsley, finely chopped  

To finish:  

12-15 clams 
A handful of samphire 
The tentacles from the cuttlefish, cut into 3 or 4 pieces

 
Slice the cleaned and skinned body and wings of the cuttlefish into chunky centimetre-thick strips. Pour a generous glug of olive oil into a large saucepan and bring up to a medium-high temperature. Fry the cuttlefish for 3-4 minutes, turning occasionally, until they start to turn golden. Season well. Turn the heat down slightly and add the onion, garlic, fennel seeds, dried chilli and oregano. Continue to fry everything together for a couple of minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onions soften slightly. Turn the head back up and pour in the wine. Allow the liquid to bubble away and reduce by half. Stir in the ink from the sachets, and carefully squeeze in the ink collected from the cuttlefish sacs (use an extra two sachets if you can’t collect them). Stir well, then top up with the chicken stock. Bring back to the boil, then turn down to a very gently simmer. Cover the saucepan with a lid and cook for 30 minutes. 

After 30 minutes, pour the lentils into the saucepan and stir everything well. Continue to simmer for a further 30 minutes.  

Bring a frying pan to a high heat and pour in a good glug of olive oil. When the pan is very hot, add the cuttlefish tentacles and a good pinch of seasoning. Fry for 2-3 minutes, turning once, until golden and slightly crispy. Remove from the pan onto a plate lined with kitchen paper to drain. Keep warm.  

Bring a saucepan to a high heat. Add the clams and a small splash of water. Seal the pan tightly with a lid, and cook for 3-4 minutes, until the clams all open. Turn the heat down and stir in the samphire. Cook for a further minute, then remove from the heat. 

Finish the lentils by stirring in the parsley and squeezing in the lemon juice. Taste and add more seasoning if needed.  

To serve, spoon the lentils and cuttlefish into shallow bowls and top with the samphire, clams and crispy tentacles. Finish with a scattering of the lemon zest and a good drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

A trio of native oysters, with hollandaise and soft leek, apple and watercress oil and crispy with pickled cucumber

Now that all of the hectic scurrying about over Christmas and New Years has been done I can settle down again to the relative tranquillity of this blog. Hectic doesn’t really quite cover it. Every year I always vow to be organised, to buy my presents months beforehand and be quietly smug when late December comes. Did I manage to achieve such grown-up, stress-free bliss this year? Did I heck.

 
Christmas was also busy at work; my first in my newfound fishmonger profession. Ever since I started, a day didn’t pass without the fabled words “you just wait ‘til Christmas” escaping someone’s lips, and now I fully understand. Needless to say, after providing what felt like most of North, East and South-West London with their lobsters and smoked salmon for the big day a rest was definitely needed.
 
One thing that particularly surprised me whilst working over Christmas was the sheer amount of oysters that we sold. Having not really come from an oyster-guzzling family, it felt crazy to sell people 60, 70 and more. I love the idea of a huge platter of them, all shimmering and dressed, to be lazily consumed with a glass of prosecco whilst waiting for Christmas dinner to arrive. Although I have to say that the thought of waking up on Christmas morning with a hangover and the task of shucking them all is not hugely appealing!
 
With this in mind I was inspired to return to a native oyster dish that I made a few months ago and that somehow I had forgotten to write about until now. It was the middle of September, and with the water starting to gently cool the shellfish season returned. After a barren summer we now had piles of plump, strong mussels, clams squeezed tight shut and boxes of beautiful oysters. I had never really seen or eaten native oysters before, and as with anything like this I was intrigued to give them a try. An idea was soon firmly planted in my head of making a few different dressings and garnishes and celebrating this first tasting.
 
To cut a long story short, celebration was the furthest thing from my mind when it came to opening the first one. I had opened oysters before, but it had been about a year, and despite approaching the whole thing very confidently I was soon hot-headed and embarrassed at how I couldn’t get the damn thing open. Unlike the normal rock oysters, natives take a bit more prising, and I really wasn’t prepared for it. Luckily, with calluses fast forming on my hands, I got it open. And as per usual, once that first one was popped open the rest soon followed.
 
After getting in such a flap, the eventual eating was made all the sweeter. Each flavouring really worked; accompanying and not overpowering the clean, mineral taste of the oyster. I could have eaten a bowlful of the almost scampi-like crispy fried variety, as long as someone else opened them for me…
 
Serves 4
 
Ingredients:
 
12 very fresh live native oysters
 
For the crispy oysters:
 
5-6 tbsp panko breadcrumbs 
3-4 tbsp plain flour 
1 large egg, beaten 
Vegetable oil for frying, approx. 500ml-1ltr
 
For the pickled cucumber:
 
1 small-medium cucumber, deseeded and cut into thin strips 
100ml cider vinegar 
50ml water 
50g caster sugar 
1 shallot, finely sliced 
1 garlic clove, crushed 
A few tarragon sprigs 
1 tsp fennel seeds
 
For the watercress oil:
 
2 handfuls watercress, washed 
1 lemon, juice only 
5-6 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
 
For the diced apple:
 
½ a braeburn apple, peeled and finely diced 
1 lemon, juice only 
A small pinch of caster sugar
 
For the hollandaise:
 
200g unsalted butter 
4 tbsp white wine vinegar 
1 bay leaf 
6 black peppercorns 
2 egg yolks 
½ lemon, juice only
 
For the soft leek:
 
1 leek, finely julienned 
1 large know of butter 
A squeeze of lemon juice
 
To garnish:
 
A few small watercress leaves 
A few tarragon leaves

 
You can prepare the watercress oil, the diced apple, and the pickled cucumber the day before.
 
For the watercress oil, bring a medium saucepan of water to the boil. Fill up a large bowl with cold, icy water and have it ready on the side. Blanch the watercress in the hot water for 30 seconds before draining and plunging into the cold water. Once cooled squeeze dry and transfer to a food processer with the lemon juice and extra virgin olive oil. Blitz to combine well, then transfer to a small bowl. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours, preferably overnight. Once infused, strain through fine muslin into another bowl and discard the now used watercress pulp. Cover the green, flavoured oil and set aside until needed.
 
For the diced apple, put the finely chopped apple into a small bowl and combine with the lemon juice and sugar. Cover and refrigerate until needed.
 
To make the pickled cucumber, pour the vinegar and water into a small saucepan along with the herbs, garlic, shallot, sugar and fennel seeds. Bring to the boil. Put the cucumber strips into a small bowl and when the pickling liquor is hot, pour it over to cover. Allow to cool. 

 
On the day of eating, prepare the other elements of the dish.
 
Melt the butter for the leeks in a frying pan. Add the thin leek ribbons, season well and sweat down on a low-medium heat until soft and sweet. Add a squeeze of lemon juice to taste. Keep warm.
 
Melt the butter for the hollandaise in a small saucepan. While the butter is melting, add the vinegar, bay leaf and peppercorns to a small saucepan and reduce until only 1 tablespoon remaining. Strain into a small food processor. Allow both butter and vinegar to cool slightly. Add the egg yolks to the vinegar along with some seasoning and combine well. With the motor still running, very slowly drizzle in the warm butter until it has all been emulsified and you are left with a thick sauce. Mix in a squeeze of lemon juice to taste; you want it to be quite sharp. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
 
Pour the vegetable oil for the fried oysters into a saucepan, you want enough to be 2” deep. Heat to 180⁰C.
 
For the crispy oysters, place two plates and a small bowl together on a work surface. Pour the panko and the flour onto the plates and beat the egg in the bowl. Season each element. Carefully coat each oyster in the flour then dip into the egg, so that it forms a thin paste around the outside. Finally cover with the panko breadcrumbs. Fry the crumbed oysters in the hot oil, in batches if necessary, for 1-2 minutes or until golden brown. Drain on kitchen paper. 

 
Shuck the remaining oysters just before serving. Carefully remove the meat and give the shells a quick scrub.
 
To plate up, arrange three shells on each dish. Spoon a dollop of the hollandaise into one of the shells and top with a raw oyster and a few tarragon leaves. Position the other raw oyster into another of the shells and pour over a little watercress oil. Garnish this one with some of the diced apple and watercress leaves. Arrange some of the pickled cucumber into the final shell and top with the crispy oyster.

Crab risotto with basil oil, brown meat mayonnaise and tomatoes

It surprises me that it’s taken just over a year for me to post a risotto recipe. Now that the days are longer and it’s a bit warmer, a bowl of light risotto is a perfect midweek dinner to have sat on the balcony in the evening sun. The joy of risottos are they can be as simple or complicated as you want them to be, and they are often a saviour when you need to make a meal out of the scant remnants in the fridge. They were one of the first things that I learned to cook post university, when it wasn’t considered acceptable to live on a diet of lasagne and poorly cooked steaks. My dad also makes a mean risotto, usually the centrepiece of a big family gathering and usually using vegetables that he has pulled from the ground that very day. Good times and full stomachs. 

For this recipe I have returned to an old favourite, crab. These early summer evenings just cry out for a fresh piece of seafood, and I fear that it may be weeks before I’m lusting over a piece of red meat again. My mind has sprung to life with recipes that make the most of light, delicate fish and zingy citrus and herbs. I was particularly inspired by the idea of a crab risotto because I saw it made on Masterchef during the finals this week. On that occasion, the cook made a real mess of it, but in my head it lit a spark and from then I craved it. Luckily, I work just across the road from a good fishmongers so was able to pop over and get my hands on a crustacean that was perfect for the job. Risottos are normally associated with stodgy cold weather meals, but with crab, lemon and basil flavours running through it’s much lighter. I used very similar ingredients in my crab and scallop ravioli recipe that I posted last year and I couldn’t help using them again; they complement the crab perfectly without overpowering. The dish still tastes distinctly crabby - the worst thing you can do to crab or any other shellfish is mask the taste with heavy flavourings. 

To someone who has never worked with crab, especially live ones, they can seem really daunting. However, there is a mine of online information about how to prepare one yourself, with videos and photos to make the directions easier to follow. The best thing to do is just get stuck in and learn as you go along. Once you’ve prepared a couple it gets loads quicker and are even dead easy for midweek after work suppers. Sourcing your crab is important. Always try and buy them live or freshly cooked from a local fishmongers, as they will taste way better and fresher than any supermarket bought alternatives. 

Serves 2

Ingredients:

1 crab, cooked with brown and white meat removed and kept separate

For the stock:

2 fennel bulbs, sliced

2 shallots, sliced

2 garlic cloves, sliced

1/2 red chilli, sliced

4 tomatoes, roughly chopped

1 tsp smoked paprika

A small pinch of saffron

1 litre light chicken stock

1/2 glass dry white wine

Legs and claw shells from the leftover crab

Salt and pepper

For the risotto:

1 shallot, finely sliced

Splash of brandy

5/6 of a mug of arborio risotto rice

The white meat from the crab

1 lemon, juice only

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the brown meat mayonnaise:

The brown meat from the crab

1 egg yolk

Splash white wine vinegar

400ml vegetable oil

1/2 lemon, juice only

Salt and pepper

For the basil oil:

2 bunches basil

100ml olive oil

1/2 tsp caster sugar

Salt and pepper

For the tomatoes:

1 plum tomato

1 tbsp olive oil

1/2 tsp caster sugar

To finish:

Red amarinth leaves

First make the stock. Heat up a large saucepan with a little olive oil to a medium heat. When hot, add the crab and lightly caramelise on all sides. Chuck in the fennel, shallot, garlic, chilli, seasoning, saffron and smoked paprika and cook for a couple of minutes until everything starts to soften. Pour in the white wine and bring to the boil to cook out the alcohol. Add the chopped tomatoes and stir through for another minute before adding the hot chicken stock. Bring to the boil then turn down to a simmer and cook for around 20 minutes, until the stock is full of flavour and colour. Strain the liquid through a sieve into another saucepan and discard the shell and vegetables. Keep warm.

Heat up about a litre of lightly salted water in a small saucepan.

Whilst the stock is cooking make the basil oil. When the water is boiling quickly blanch the bunches of basil for about 20 seconds, then remove with a slotted spoon, keeping the same water for use later. Transfer the basil to a small food processor with the oil, sugar, salt and pepper and blitz well until very fine. Taste and adjust if needed. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl or bottle and set aside. 

Also make the mayonnaise. Put the brown crabmeat into a high-sided bowl with the egg yolk, salt and pepper and white wine vinegar. Whisk well until frothy. Carry on whisking whilst very slowly adding the vegetable oil until all of it has been emulsified into a thick mayonnaise. Squeeze in a little of the lemon juice and taste. Adjust the seasoning if needed and pour into a bottle. Set aside. 

To prepare the tomato, score a cross into the bottom of it and put it in the water still boiling from the basil earlier. Boil for about a minute, then remove and plunge in a bowl of cold water. Pull the skins off, then slice segments of the flesh from around the edge. Discard the seeds from the middle. Cut the flesh of the tomatoes into 1/2cm squares and place into a small bowl. Dress with the olive oil and sugar and set aside.

Put a large frying pan or skillet onto a medium heat with a little olive oil. When hot, add the chopped shallot then season and fry for a couple of minutes until tender. Add the rice and cook for another minute or two, stirring to coat the grains. Pour in the brandy and allow to bubble away and cook out. Add a ladle of the hot stock and allow the rice to absorb the liquid before adding the next. Stir regularly. When the rice starts to get plumper and the starch has thickened the mixture, start tasting a grain every so often to judge the cooking. The rice is cooked when soft with a little bite remaining, and it should be wet enough to spread out once dolloped onto a plate. At this point stir in the white crabmeat, butter and lemon. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. 

To serve, spoon a good amount of the rice into the middle of a shallow bowl and shake to spread out evenly. Squeeze a few blobs of the mayonnaise evenly on top and place some of the tomato pieces around the middle. Scatter some of the amarinth leaves over the top and drizzle a little bit of the basil oil around the edge.