Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 24

That great American fisherman and expert, A. J. McClane takes a mildly reproachful view of trout. The shades of Izaak Walton and Charles Cotton do not daunt someone who has caught at least half a million though he didn't eat them all, I hasten to say. With such experience, he has found that the quality of wild trout can be most variable according to the waters they come from, with, as you would expect in this polluted world, the best ones being found in high clear mountain streams.

One of the things that intrigued me most in his descriptions of trout was the history he gives of trout farming. As long ago as the fourteenth century, a French monk, Dom Pichon, discovered that trout eggs could be artificially impregnated. It took another five centuries before the idea was developed and the French government had a hatchery built in 1852. The first American farm was begun in 1864 by Seth Green, at Mumford, New York, and as one clerical angler made clear, some years later, doom was nigh: 'Trout will be hatched by machinery and raised in ponds, and fattened on chopped liver, and grow flabby and lose their spots. The trout of the restaurant will not cease to be but he is no more like a trout of the wild river than the fat and songless reed-bird is like the bobolink. Gross feeding and easy pond life enervate and deprave him.'

Precisely. I shall silently honour the Reverend Myron Reed on the rare occasions when I cannot avoid eating farm trout. Of course, just as trout from different waters vary, so do trout from different farms and farm trout handled in different ways. Mr McClane's great experience bears out my own empiric conclusions that a flash-frozen Danish trout, packaged and bought from the supermarket, can taste much better than the more romantically acquired trout from a local farm where the fish may be overcrowded and overfed with what looks like pellets of cat food. And when these local trout have been lying around on ice at the fishmonger's, they can be poor eating indeed, with a strange muddy taste that reminds me of London tapwater.

Chars are rare now in our country. They include the Arctic char, once so prolific in Windermere that locally potted char became a famous delicacy that was sent down to London. Occasionally one finds the shallow dishes they were packed in: white pottery with gaily coloured fish swimming round the outside, and a high price ticket underneath. Celia Fiennes in her way round England in the late seventeenth century commented on the Lake District char, 'part of the whole skin and the fin and tail is red like the fins of a perch, and the inside flesh looks as red as any salmon... their taste is very rich and fat tho' not so strong or clogging as the lampreys are, but it's as fat and rich a food.' Char are still caught, though in smaller numbers, and if you go to the Rothay Manor Hotel at the head of the lake at Ambleside you may be able to see the silver spinners used in catching the char collected by Mrs Bronwen Nixon, whose recipe I give later on, and who until her tragic death ran the hotel. Char elsewhere may be white-fleshed it all depends on what and where they eat and the time of year. Char are very much cold water fish, as their Latin name Salvelinus alpinus Salvelinus alpinus, also implies. They have their treasured localities and in the French Alps, omble chevalier omble chevalier on the menu is something to look out for. Not all the localities are land-locked. If you get the chance of an Alpine char from the sea, take it. Char to look out for in North America don't let the word trout confuse you are the Dolly Varden, and Lake and Brooktrout. on the menu is something to look out for. Not all the localities are land-locked. If you get the chance of an Alpine char from the sea, take it. Char to look out for in North America don't let the word trout confuse you are the Dolly Varden, and Lake and Brooktrout.

Grayling seems to be almost entirely an angler's fish. Only from a friend, or at some small inn near the right rivers, will you get the opportunity of sampling it. The white flesh falls beautifully from the bone, it is firm like the trout's but lighter in flavour. When newly caught, they are thought to smell of thyme hence Thymallus Thymallus. A few hours later this is not perceptible, any more than the cuc.u.mber fragrance of smelts survives their journey to the kitchen. Ombre Ombre is the French for grayling: don't confuse it with is the French for grayling: don't confuse it with omble omble meaning char. meaning char. Ombre Ombre being a shadow in non-piscatorial French, I imagine that it refers like grayling to the beautiful grey colour that we a.s.sociate with it in western Europe. Elsewhere it can be almost purple depending on the species and where it lives. Grayling in England being a shadow in non-piscatorial French, I imagine that it refers like grayling to the beautiful grey colour that we a.s.sociate with it in western Europe. Elsewhere it can be almost purple depending on the species and where it lives. Grayling in England Thymallus thymallus Thymallus thymallus as Charles Cotton wrote in as Charles Cotton wrote in The Compleat Angler The Compleat Angler caught in the winter is 'little inferior to the best trout.' Incidentally you need to scale grayling. caught in the winter is 'little inferior to the best trout.' Incidentally you need to scale grayling.

Whitefish are not as interesting in Britain, at least as char or grayling, although elsewhere they can be abundant and worthwhile. The name is confusing to the ear, if not on paper, and more memorable names have been thought up. At Lake Annecy in France they appear as lavarets (Coregonus lavaretus) which are known in Britain as the powan. There are six species which go under the name of cisco shortnose cisco, longjaw cisco and so on which are sold widely in North America as smoked chub: a seventh cisco to us it is known as vendace provides the lovely golden caviare of Scandinavia which I have managed to buy from the Swedish Table, now located at Unit 21, Parkroyal Metro Centre, Britannia Way in London. In America the best known whitefish is the lake whitefish (C. clupeaformis).

These fish vary in size, colour and texture, but any of the salmon and trout recipes are suitable for them. As a general rule, I would say the fresher they are, the simpler the cooking should be but that applies to almost every fish one can think of, whether from salt or sweet water. Some you may want to poach, but there are trout fishermen who declare that the skin of the fish when fried in b.u.t.ter is the best part of all, crisp and succulent. It profits from a fine but unmistakable sanding of freshly ground black pepper. This adds a marvellous piquancy to the rich skin, without being in the least too much for the lovely flavour of the fish inside it.

BAKED TROUT IN A SOUFFLe CHEESE SAUCE.

This is a lovely dish from the Sharrow Bay Hotel on Ullswater, one of the most beautifully placed and best-fed hotels in Britain. The recipe is intended for the best wild Lakeland trout, but it can be worth doing with top quality farm trout. Or, better, with large fillets of sole or other reputable flounder.

Serves 44 trout, cleanedmilkseasoned flourclarified b.u.t.ter*SAUCE2 tablespoons b.u.t.ter1 tablespoon plain flour300 ml (10 fl oz) single cream or or milk, heated milk, heated2 egg yolks75 g (2 oz) grated Double Gloucester or or good hard cheese good hard cheese teaspoon grated nutmegsalt, pepper6 egg whites Remove fins from the trout, but leave heads and tails in place. Cut them along the belly from head to tail, then turn them backbone up on to a board and press down firmly along the backbone to loosen it. Turn the trout over and remove the bones.

Next make the sauce by melting the b.u.t.ter, stirring in the flour and cooking for a minute or more. Keep this roux pale. Pour in the cream or milk, stirring, and then beat to make a smooth consistency. Cool slightly, then mix in the yolks, the cheese and seasoning. Pour a little clarified b.u.t.ter over the top to prevent a skin forming.

Rinse the trout, dip them in milk, then in flour and brown them in b.u.t.ter on both sides without cooking them through. Do this one or two at a time. Put them side by side in an oval gratin dish which has been brushed out with b.u.t.ter.

Whisk the egg whites until stiff. Fold a little into the cheese sauce to slacken it, then fold the rest into the mixture lightly. Pile on to the trout and bake in the oven preheated to gas 6, 200C (400F) until the souffle is puffed and golden brown 1015 minutes. Serve immediately.

A.J. McCLANE'S BLUE TROUT By this method of cooking, the natural film of slime on the trout's skin is turned to a slatey-blue of great softness. The important thing is that the trout should be killed and cleaned just before going into the pot (although I find, that one gets quite a good colour from frozen Danish trout). I have always slipped the trout into a couple of litres (about 3 pt) of boiling water, acidulated with 6 tablespoons of wine vinegar, and simmered them until just cooked.

Mr McClane, who is after all a great fisherman, has much stronger views on what is right: and with his experience I cannot argue. This is what he does.

He makes a court bouillon of 4 parts of water to 1 of white wine and flavours it with the usual pot herbs and aromatics. Then he strains it into a clean pan and keeps it bubbling on one burner. On another burner he has a large pan containing 2 parts of water to 1 of tarragon vinegar. When this boils, he grabs his newly caught, newly killed and newly cleaned trout with a pair of tongs and lowers them into the vinegar-water. When the colour is appropriately blue, he transfers the trout to the court bouillon. This knocks it off the boil, but when it bubbles again, he puts on the lid, removes the pan from the heat and leaves the trout to complete their cooking.

'Cla.s.sically, blue trout are served with marble-size new potatoes bathed in b.u.t.ter and garnished with parsley. There should also be a side dish of fresh asparagus smothered in mousseline sauce... A dry white wine would be the proper mate to such rich fare. A watercress salad is a must.'

I would put in a plea for a walnut and horseradish sauce*.

TROUT IN WHITE WINE JELLY.

A cool dish for a warm day, either as a first course or a main course at midday.

Serves 66 trout, about 250 g (8 oz) each450 ml (15 fl oz) water150 ml (5 fl oz) dry white wine1 tablespoon white wine vinegar1 onion, sliced1 small carrot, sliced bay leaf2 sprigs of parsley2 sprigs of thyme teaspoon salt1 level teaspoon peppercorns Clean the trout and set aside. Simmer the remaining ingredients together in a covered pan for 30 minutes or a little longer. Leave to cool.

Put the trout in a pan, side by side. Strain over them the cold bouillon and bring gently to the boil. Barely simmer for 8 minutes, or until the trout are cooked. Remove them, take off the skin and then carefully fillet the fish. Lay the fillets side by side in a shallow dish. Put the skin, bone and debris into the bouillon and simmer down to half the original quant.i.ty. Taste for seasoning the flavour should be fairly strong. Strain over the trout, and put into the refrigerator to chill. The liquid sets to a light jelly.

TROUT OR OTHER RIVER FISH BAKED IN THE LOIR STYLE.

Every cook in the val du Loir and in north and western France, I suspect uses this recipe for river fish because the ingredients are always in house or garden. The sudden return of a fis.h.i.+ng party causes no flurry. By the time a couple of bottles are emptied, the fish is on the table, its freshness in no way masked, but honoured without pretension.

This kind of recipe has felicity and seemliness like our church at Troo, whose Norman walls, tower, capitals and keystones, arches and arcades have been cut and dragged out of the cliff which it crowns, and which shelters still a number of its paris.h.i.+oners.

Serves 38b.u.t.tershallots and onionparsleysalt, pepper2 kg (14 lb) whole fish, scaled and cleaned175 ml (6fl oz) dry white wine175 ml (6 fl oz) creme fraiche or or double cream double creamlemon juice b.u.t.ter generously an ovenproof dish which is large enough to hold the fish, without too much room to spare. Put in enough chopped shallots and onions to cover the base thinly. Scatter the parsley, salt and pepper. Lay in the fish, and brush it with melted b.u.t.ter. Bake in a fairly hot oven (gas 6, 200C/400F) for 1015 minutes according to size, then pour in the wine. Baste occasionally with the juices, until the flesh turns opaque. Pour over the cream, and return to the oven for 5 minutes. A squeeze of lemon juice before serving compensates for the blandness of English cream. Serve scattered lightly with parsley and with plenty of bread or plainly boiled potatoes.

You can, if you like, stuff the fish particularly the larger fish.

Egg and mushroom stuffing The simplest stuffing for any fish, whether it comes from sea or river, is made from breadcrumbs mixed with b.u.t.ter, parsley and seasoning. Chopped shallot, bacon or prosciutto and grated cheese may be added for extra flavour. If you are presented with a fine trout or other river fish, a bream, tench, barbel or perch, I suggest you follow another excellent French recipe, and combine hard-boiled egg and mushroom in a more elaborate recipe.

For 6 fish4 tablespoons b.u.t.ter2 tablespoons chopped shallot or or onion onion6090 g (23 oz) roughly chopped mushrooms34 tablespoons breadcrumbssalt, pepper, nutmeggrated rind of lemonabout 1 tablespoon each, chopped chives and parsley1 large hard-boiled egg, choppeddouble cream Melt the b.u.t.ter and fry the shallot or onion gently in it for 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms, raise the heat slightly and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the breadcrumbs a little more or less according to the size of the fish and remove from the heat. Season to taste with salt, freshly ground pepper and freshly grated nutmeg. Stir in lemon rind and herbs, then the hard-boiled egg. Mix in a little cream, so that you have a lightly bound, not pasty, consistency. Correct the seasoning.

Any stuffing left over can be augmented with some extra onion, plus mushroom if you like, and laid on the well-b.u.t.tered base of the baking dish. Follow the recipe above, but omit the final addition of cream. A little more white wine may be needed.

TROUT WITH MUSHROOM AND WINE SAUCE.

The ideal mushroom for this recipe is the cep, Boletus edulis Boletus edulis, but as it does not, alas, flourish in every wood, most of us have to fall back on cultivated mushrooms. Even so this is a good dish.

Serves 66 trout150 ml (5 fl oz) dry white wine150 ml (5 fl oz) light meat stock1 medium onion, chopped3 tablespoons b.u.t.ter2 teaspoons plain flour1 tablespoons tomato concentrate175 g (6 oz) cultivated mushrooms, sliced or or 375 g (12 oz) prepared sliced ceps 375 g (12 oz) prepared sliced ceps2 tablespoons chopped parsleysalt, pepper Put the trout into a shallow pan. Pour over wine and stock, and simmer gently until just cooked, turning the fish after 5 minutes. Drain off the liquid, retaining it, and keep the trout warm.

Meanwhile soften the onion in the b.u.t.ter, stir in the flour and moisten with the liquid in which the trout have cooked. Add the tomato concentrate gradually, stopping when the flavour is spicy and rich, but not conspicuously of tomato, then put in the mushrooms. Simmer for about 10 minutes. Add parsley and seasoning, and pour the sauce over the fish. Glaze under the grill for a few seconds.

NOTE You may need to add more stock or wine or both to the sauce this will depend on how much moisture is given out by the mushrooms. You may need to add more stock or wine or both to the sauce this will depend on how much moisture is given out by the mushrooms.

TRUITE DU GAVE.

This is one of the best trout recipes; it comes from the Pyrenees where the fish are taken from the gaves gaves or mountain torrents. Measure out the pastis carefully a lavish hand can sometimes be the cook's undoing. or mountain torrents. Measure out the pastis carefully a lavish hand can sometimes be the cook's undoing.

For each trout allow: seasoned flour2 tablespoons clarified b.u.t.ter*90 g (3 oz) ceps or or sliced mushrooms sliced mushrooms clove garlic, crushedsalt, pepper1 teaspoon pastis Ricard2 tablespoons creme fraiche or or double cream double cream Turn the trout in seasoned flour, shaking off the surplus. Fry in b.u.t.ter over a moderate heat, allowing 5 minutes a side. Remove to a serving dish and keep warm. Cook the mushrooms in the pan juices, together with the garlic. Season well. Stir in the pastis; let it bubble hard for a moment or two, then add the cream and stir everything well together until the sauce is amalgamated. Correct seasoning, adding extra pastis if you like. Pour round the trout and serve at once.

MRS NIXON'S POTTED CHAR The recipe can be used for all the fish in this section, and for salmon trout.

Serves 686 char, each weighing 175 g (6 oz)about 300 ml (10 fl oz) dry white wine1 bay leaf, 2 sprigs of parsley, 1 curl of lemon peel teaspoon powdered ginger teaspoon powdered mace250 g (8 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter150 ml (5 fl oz) double creamlemon juice, salt, pepperclarified b.u.t.ter* to cover to cover Put the fish into an ovenproof dish that fits them closely. Pour enough wine over them to cover the quant.i.ty you need will depend on the tightness of the fit. Put in a bay leaf, parsley and lemon, with the spices, and some of the b.u.t.ter dotted over the top.

Bake in the oven preheated to gas 2, 150C (300F) until just cooked 30 minutes or so.

Remove the fish, raise the fillets, discarding skin, bone and head, and flake them into a processor or blender. Strain the cooking juice into a shallow pan and boil it down to a syrupy essence, then beat in the b.u.t.ter, bit by bit, off the heat, until it melts. Pour on to the fish, add the cream and whizz to a paste. Check for seasoning and add lemon, salt and pepper as required.

Put into one shallow pot, or six to eight small pots and chill. When firm, pour on a layer of melted clarified b.u.t.ter. Chill again and cover with cling film. Store in the refrigerator for 2436 hours. Serve with brown bread and b.u.t.ter.

GRILLED GRAYLING WITH FENNEL.

Brush scaled grayling with clarified b.u.t.ter*, and sand them generously with freshly ground black pepper. Grill them in the usual way.

Serve them on a bed of Florentine fennel and onion see see recipe on recipe on p. 294 p. 294 for Grilled red mullet with fennel cooked in b.u.t.ter. Serve with pats of tarragon b.u.t.ter and lemon quarters, with a sprinkling of chopped green fennel leaves. for Grilled red mullet with fennel cooked in b.u.t.ter. Serve with pats of tarragon b.u.t.ter and lemon quarters, with a sprinkling of chopped green fennel leaves.

WHITEFISH (OR GRAYLING) WITH MORELS.

The flavour of morels is so exceptional that it is worth buying a small packet of dried ones to make this dish, if you aren't lucky enough to find your own. This recipe is also suitable for perch and pike, and sole.

Serves 611 kg (23 lb) whitefish filletssalt, pepper, pinch of paprika500 g (1 lb) fresh morels or or 4560 g (12 oz) packet dried morels 4560 g (12 oz) packet dried morels1 shallot, chopped175 g (6 oz) b.u.t.ter125 ml (4 fl oz) dry white wine1 tablespoon beurre manie*juice of 1 lemon125 ml (4 fl oz) creme fraiche or or double cream double creamseasoned flour2 eggs, beatenslices of lemonchopped parsley and chives Season the fish, and leave in a cool place while you prepare the sauce.

Wash the morels carefully and slice them up (or soak the dried ones according to instructions on the packet). Put into a pan with the shallot, 2 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter, and the wine. Simmer for 20 minutes. Thicken with the beurre manie, and add lemon juice, seasoning and cream. Keep just under the boil for a few moments. Pour on to a serving dish and keep warm.

Dip the fish into flour, then egg, and fry in 4 tablespoons of the b.u.t.ter until golden brown. Place on top of the morel sauce. Cook the remaining b.u.t.ter in a small pan until golden brown and pour over the fish. Arrange the lemon slices on top, sprinkle with herbs, and serve.

TUNA OR TUNNY & BONITO Thunnus thynnus & related spp. & related spp.

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My earliest sight of tuna was at Scarborough before the war, when tuna-fis.h.i.+ng first became a fas.h.i.+onable sport there. I remember dark perfect shapes hanging against the usual grey summer sky. Their tails brushed the ground almost, but tall men had to put their heads back to look up at them. In 1933 a record-breaking tuna was landed there, weighing 425 kg (851 lb). These fish were Thunnus thynnus Thunnus thynnus I suppose, the bluefin tuna or I suppose, the bluefin tuna or thon rouge thon rouge, caught on the way north to recuperate in the rich seas after sp.a.w.ning, and all of 2 m (7 feet) long.

The second time I saw tuna, many years later, was in Spain on the Basque coast. This time it was a smaller species, T. alalunga T. alalunga, which the French call germon germon and the Americans albacore, the prized white tuna, the only one allowed to be sold as and the Americans albacore, the prized white tuna, the only one allowed to be sold as white white meat tuna in the USA. Fat fisherwomen were pulling these tight-skinned shapes over the quays of the small port of Llanes. Natural slime and blood greased the way so that they survived the brutal handling unblemished. We did not eat tuna for dinner that evening. meat tuna in the USA. Fat fisherwomen were pulling these tight-skinned shapes over the quays of the small port of Llanes. Natural slime and blood greased the way so that they survived the brutal handling unblemished. We did not eat tuna for dinner that evening.

Next day we were glad to blot out that over-truthful image with a visit to the cave of Pindal where a palaeolithic tuna swims gracefully on the wall. One has to step up on to a stone to make out the engraved lines. And all the time the smell of sea and wild flowers hangs about the cave. I suppose that women have been lugging these meaty, full-skinned fish over the ground hereabouts for 25,000 years and longer. Palaeolithic tuna must have been rather an indigestible chew, without the peppers and potatoes and tomatoes that now seem such an essential part of tuna cooked in the Basque style.

There are a number of other species which come under the general heading of tuna the yellowfin (T. albacares) of the Pacific is what people in California think of as tuna. A. J. McClane, the great fish expert, is happiest when his Florida waters bring him a blackfin (T. atlanticus). The small skipjack (Euthynnus pelamis) provide the j.a.panese with a favourite sas.h.i.+mi as well as the flakes of dried fish used in making the basic stocks of their cookery: when you read the word katsuo katsuo in a list of ingredients, this is the fish that is meant. Add to that the various small fish somewhere between a mackerel and tuna proper that pa.s.s under the name of bonito the true bonito of the Atlantic and Mediterranean ( in a list of ingredients, this is the fish that is meant. Add to that the various small fish somewhere between a mackerel and tuna proper that pa.s.s under the name of bonito the true bonito of the Atlantic and Mediterranean (Sarda sarda) had relations in the Pacific, but the name is used for the skipjack in France and elsewhere, too, although with a qualifying adjective.

This sounds more daunting than it really is, unless you are a marine biologist. If you are a cook with a bit of experience, your eye tells you that whatever the name may be, these are solid, meaty fish and these qualities are what count in the kitchen. When I first wrote Fish Cookery Fish Cookery, fresh tuna was a rarity in Britain. Now it is quite easy to find thanks to the immigrant communities that have so enlarged our choice of good things to eat in the last twenty years. Holidays abroad have helped, too; tuna is now more than just a handy store cupboard fish in a can. It does help to know that the best part of tuna comes from the belly. This is what you should buy at the market, and what you should look for on the can should it come from Italy ventresca ventresca is the word. is the word.

There are various standards of canned tuna. The best consists mainly of large pieces of fish, packed in with flaky bits. The lowest quality is all flakes. For a Salade Nicoise (p. 57), you should choose the chunkiest. For sandwiches, the bitty kind is more practical. In France they often can the fish in brine au naturel au naturel which many people prefer to tuna in oil, especially for dishes which already contain a good deal of oil already, a salad with mayonnaise for instance. It is better, too, for the Cure's omelette, which many people prefer to tuna in oil, especially for dishes which already contain a good deal of oil already, a salad with mayonnaise for instance. It is better, too, for the Cure's omelette, p. 430 p. 430.

Whether we shall ever see the range of pickled tunas that one sees in a Spanish market, I do not know. Knowledge of Spain, imports from Spain must surely increase. It seems we have taken tea and chips to Spain and not yet brought anything back. The big market in Barcelona was an extraordinary sight when at last a friend from Madrid took me round, explaining the unfamiliar sights on the fish stalls. Rationally I should have expected it, but no amount of reading and visiting fish markets elsewhere and eating fish on every occasion had prepared me for the strangeness, the abundant vigour, and those great slabs of tuna pickled in various ways, strange tawny colours of pink, looking reserved and a little dry and disapproving as the prawns escaped their boxes and crawled out of sight.

HOW TO PREPARE TUNA.

Don't be put off tuna because it has a disconcerting look of beef with extra dark patches. This can vary, but even in quite pale steaks there can be deep red streaks along the bone. Just cut them away, and discard them with the skin and bone. Another problem, although this does not apply to all species, is a general b.l.o.o.d.y look, something one does not have to deal with often in fish. American cooks are used to soaking tuna in brine, which clears it dissolve about 125 g (4 oz) sea salt in 1 litre (1 pt) of water, put in the tuna and stand in the refrigerator for an hour or so.

Now you can poach, fry or grill it, depending on its quality. If you have not cooked tuna before, start off with a good sauce try the recipe from the Chateau-Renault market (p. 431), or give it the treatment a l'americaine (p. 213). The Basque stew is the kind of dish most people enjoy. Or else cook it au poivre (p. 436). The thing is not to overcook tuna, but not to undercook it too much either. When it is done, it should still be very slightly pink at the centre. Be quite ruthless about piercing it with the point of a knife to see how it is getting on. You can always remove it, and let the sauce cook on by itself should it be necessary.

BASQUE TUNA AND POTATO STEW.

This is a recipe with many variations; sometimes there are no tomatoes, sometimes there are not so many onions, and so on. The basic ingredients are tuna, garlic, olive oil and potatoes. If possible, cook this stew in a large shallow glazed earthenware dish, using a heat-diffuser with gas.

Serves 6750g (1 lb) tuna2 large onions, sliced4 cloves garlic, chopped125 ml (4 fl oz) olive oil6 or more potatoes, peeled500 g (1 lb) tomatoes, peeled, chopped4 sweet red peppers, seeded, slicedsalt, pepper6 slices bread Cut the tuna into chunks 23 cm (11 inches) discarding skin and bones. Cook the onion and garlic in the oil until lightly coloured. Add the potatoes, tomatoes and peppers, and cook them for about 1520 minutes. Put in the tuna, making sure it is well embedded in the tomato stew. Simmer on top of the stove; keep a watch to see that the tuna does not overcook. Check the seasoning. The bread can be crumbled or cut into squares and added at the end of the cooking time or the slices can be toasted in the oven and put on top of the stew before serving.

CROSTINI DI TONNO FRESCO.

A recipe for fresh, good quality tuna fish. Be sure to place the sage leaves next to it on the skewers for the full benefit of the flavour.

Serves 6625g (1 lb) tunabreadsmall sage leavesolive oilsalt, pepperlemon juice Cut the tuna into regular slices about the thickness of a finger, and divide the slices into squares. Cut an equal number of squares of bread, without crusts, of a similar size. Wash plenty of sage leaves.

Thread the tuna and bread on to six skewers, with sage leaves on either side of each piece of tuna. Half-leaves of bay can be subst.i.tuted for some of the sage leaves.

Brush the skewers with olive oil, and season them. Grill at a very moderate temperature for about half an hour, brus.h.i.+ng tuna and bread with oil whenever they begin to look in the least dry.

Squeeze lemon juice over them and serve.

THE CURe'S OMELETTE In the Physiologie du Gout Physiologie du Gout, Brillat-Savarin tells the story of how Madame B, a society beauty who occupied herself with good works, called on a cure one evening in the poor part of Paris. He was dining at an unfas.h.i.+onably early hour, and welcomed her to join him. Poor and unfas.h.i.+onable he may have been, but he ate well (and copiously). After he had finished a salmon trout, the housekeeper brought in a tuna and carp roe omelette which smelled and tasted so good that Madame B could talk of nothing else at the dinner she went on to.

I thought the story much exaggerated until I tried the omelette. Admittedly herring roes had to stand in for carp, and canned tuna for fresh, but the result was still superb.

Serves 4250 g (8 oz) soft roes6 tablespoons b.u.t.ter1 small shallot, finely chopped125 g (4 oz) fresh or canned tuna, choppedsalt, pepper8 eggs, beatenmaitre d'hotel b.u.t.ter*

Pour boiling water over the roes and leave for a few seconds to become slightly firm. Drain and chop roughly. Melt 4 tablespoons b.u.t.ter in a pan, and cook the shallot gently until soft. Add the tuna and stir for a few seconds, then add the soft roes. After a moment or two, remove the pan from the heat: the roes must stay creamy. Season and cool. Stir into the seasoned eggs. Using the 2 remaining tablespoons of b.u.t.ter, make the omelette in the usual way or make four smaller omelettes. Don't overcook; omelettes should be just liquid in the centre. Spread the maitre d'hotel b.u.t.ter on a warm dish and place the omelette(s) on top. Serve immediately. The heat of the omelette should melt the b.u.t.ter into a sauce.

THE FISHMONGER'S TUNA Around Troo, there is a market almost every day of the week, in one or another small town, which means that we know exactly which day we may be invited out for a meal in any particular area. Or which day to choose, if we are given a choice. Tuesday means Chateau-Renault where there is a good convivial fishmonger, and one September lunchtime we were given this dish by a triumphant friend who had acquired the recipe that morning as her purchases were being wrapped. Most of the vegetables came from her huge kitchen garden. It was very much an autumn country lunch, a small harvest festival.

Serves 61 kg (12 lb) tuna slicessalt, pepper, cayenneolive oil2 cloves garlic, sliced500 g (1 lb) chopped onion250 g (8 oz) sliced carrotsabout 500 g (1 lb) aubergines, sliced, saltedabout 500 g (1 lb) small courgettes, sliced, saltedabout 500 g (1 lb) tomatoes, skinned, seeded, chopped12 red peppers, toasted, skinned and cut in stripswine vinegarsugarabout 60 g (2 oz) black oliveschopped parsley and basil or or green coriander green coriander Season the fish with salt, pepper and cayenne and leave for 30 minutes. Heat a large saute pan with a thin layer of olive oil in it. Add the garlic and onion, with the carrot. Cook slowly until the onion is tender. Push to one side and gently cook the tuna 3 minutes on each side. Put it onto a warm serving dish and keep it in a low oven, where it will continue to cook through very very slowly gas , 130C (250F).

To the pan, add the remaining vegetables. Cook down to a thick sauce. Season, add a splash of vinegar if you like and a little sugar if the vegetables are watery in flavour. Pour over and round the tuna. Scatter with olives, parsley and basil or coriander. Serve with rounds or triangles of bread rubbed with garlic and fried in olive oil.

VARIATION You could subst.i.tute parboiled small new potatoes for the aubergines, and increase the quant.i.ty of peppers and tomatoes in the vegetable stew, which is a kind of Ratatouille and variable. You could subst.i.tute parboiled small new potatoes for the aubergines, and increase the quant.i.ty of peppers and tomatoes in the vegetable stew, which is a kind of Ratatouille and variable.

TURBOT Rombus maximus [image]

One thing I do resent having to be in France, 240 km (150 miles) from the sea, before I can count on buying turbot. No doubt if I lived in London, things would be different, but like most of the population of these islands, I don't. And yet turbot has been vaunted until recently at any rate as a national delicacy. Dover sole cla.s.s, right at the top of life's gastronomic experiences.

Nowadays, looking round grand houses and coming at last to the kitchens, we stand and stare at the diamond-shaped copper turbot kettles artistically nailed to the wall. Many people in the party (sometimes including the guide) have no idea of the use to which some enormous pans were put. How could they, rarely having seen a l.u.s.ty, k.n.o.bble-skinned turbot on the fishmonger's counter?

It is this lumpy dark skin the white skinned side is smooth that gives the turbot its name: -bot, as also in halibut, means flounder and tur tur- th.o.r.n.y. That is something of an exaggeration, but if you run your fingers over the humps and lumps you will find the sensation quite unlike any other you have experienced; it is even a little disquieting. This dark side is turned uppermost on the bed of the sea, so that the turbot melts into the background. Cooks usually cut through it to the backbone so that the white side remains smooth and uncracked, but some nineteenth-century epicures considered that the flesh under the dark side tasted better and ordered it that side up with no cuts made. Another point of turbot gastronomy is the fins which are considered a delicacy. Maria Edgeworth, the novelist, 'relates an anecdote of a Bishop and we doubt not that he came to be an Archbishop who, descending to his kitchen to superintend the dressing of a turbot, and finding that his cook had stupidly cut away the fins, set about sewing them on again with his own Episcopal fingers. This dignitary knew the value of turbot.'

Another man who knew the value of turbot was Brillat-Savarin. The problem he was faced with was more fundamental. He arrived at a cousin's country house in Villecresnes, to the south-east of Paris, round about seven one evening, to find the family in an uproar over the turbot. It was grand and beautiful and plump, and they had nothing to cook it in. The husband had an axe in his hand determined to cut it in two. The wife was distraught.

'That turbot will remain in one piece!' said Brillat-Savarin. Everybody calmed down, and followed him from room to room as he searched for the answer. And this is what he did. He cut the wicker base from a basket that held fifty bottles of wine and covered it with a layer of bulbes bulbes, which I take to be onions and leeks, and herbes de haut gout herbes de haut gout. On went the turbot, with more bulbes bulbes and and herbes herbes on top. This was set over the household copper, half full of boiling water. A tub was turned upside-down over the fish, and sand was heaped round to prevent steam escaping. The turbot was, of course, perfection. The party was delighted, especially the cure who rolled his eyes to the ceiling as a sign of ecstasy. Everyone agreed that turbot steamed in such fragrance was far better than turbot which had been cooked in boiling water in a on top. This was set over the household copper, half full of boiling water. A tub was turned upside-down over the fish, and sand was heaped round to prevent steam escaping. The turbot was, of course, perfection. The party was delighted, especially the cure who rolled his eyes to the ceiling as a sign of ecstasy. Everyone agreed that turbot steamed in such fragrance was far better than turbot which had been cooked in boiling water in a turbotiere turbotiere.

HOW TO CHOOSE AND PREPARE TURBOT.

Look out for the small chicken turbot which weigh about 1 kg (2 lb). They make a handsome dish for a dinner party and are not difficult to cook. Use a large glazed earthenware dish of the kind imported from France to cook them in (unless, of course, you are the lucky possessor of a turbot kettle). Another way is to wrap the fish in foil and cook it on a baking sheet in the oven in its own steam, at gas 78, 220230C (425450F): b.u.t.ter the foil, include appropriate aromatics and make a tightly closed but baggy parcel. Check the condition of the fish at 15 minutes: a.s.suming the chicken turbot to have been 2 cm (1 inch) thick, it should be ready.

Since whiteness is supposed to be one of the virtues of turbot, it is usually poached in milk and water with slices of lemon, or in water with lemon alone. To keep the white-skinned side unblemished, the dark side is cut through, down to and along the central bone. The fins are left in place, and the head. Cooks had problems with vast turbot, even with a turbot kettle of the right size, and all kinds of stratagems were required to prevent the skin cracking and the flesh breaking which would spoil the presentation. Sometimes the fish were wound in muslin cloths to this end: I am sure this worked as far as the cooking went, but how did you remove the cloth and slide the turbot on to its serving dish without damaging it? My feeling is, thank heaven for chicken turbot and smaller parties.

Larger turbot these days are usually filleted, and sold in steaks. You buy what you require and cook it in any way suitable for white fish. Most of the finer recipes for cod, monkfish and sole are suitable for turbot. If you enjoy making sauces, turbot gives you a chance to show off your skill. Wild mushrooms cooked with a little shallot, parsley and b.u.t.ter are a worthy partner for turbot. Hollandaise and its derivatives*, cream sauces* and sh.e.l.lfish sauces* are the cla.s.sic accompaniments.

Don't neglect any left-overs. Cold turbot is fine for a salad, or for making a filling for puff pastry. The poaching liquid, and carcase, can be turned into the most excellent jellied stock for a chowder or soup if seasonings and lemon were not too strong.

POACHED TURBOT WITH HORSERADISH.

At Krogs Restaurant in Copenhagen, they serve the freshest and finest turbot you are ever likely to eat. Ours had come out of the water that morning. It had been seasoned and left for a while to absorb the flavour. Then it had been poached in a well-flavoured court bouillon* while we waited.

It came to our table with a fine scatter of grated horseradish root, a sauceboat of melted b.u.t.ter and a sauceboat of hollandaise*. There were also some small new potatoes, and extra horseradish in a bowl.

When the fish was served, everyone helped themselves to the horseradish, sprinkling it over the fish. Then melted b.u.t.ter was poured over the whole thing. It was really excellent. The surprising thing was the horseradish, which was sweetly piquant. The b.u.t.ter provided the emollient richness that poached fish require. We hardly needed the hollandaise.

To do this yourself at home, say with a chicken turbot, cover the fish with cold court bouillon (Krogs did not seem to be concerned with whiteness as Victorian cooks used to be, so no lemon or milk). Bring it to the boil, then immediately lower to a simmer and give it 89 minutes, a.s.suming it is 2 cm (1 inch) at the thickest part.

Meanwhile, grate fresh horseradish from the outside of the root (the inner core is the hot part), and melt a packet of lightly salted Danish Lurpak b.u.t.ter, straining off the crusty white bits. Serve potatoes and hollandaise sauce, too, if you like.

TURBOT a LA CReME.