Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 7

HOW TO PREPARE CRABS.

The point of success lies in salting the water adequately. Even seawater needs extra strength. An egg should float in the brine use about 175 g (6 oz) salt to 22 litres (34 pt) of water. Put in the crab, fasten on the lid, and bring it to the boil, or rather to the simmer. Give it 15 minutes for the first 500 g (1 lb); 10 minutes for the second, third and so on. Remove from the pan to cool.

When the crab is cold, lay it on its back. Twist off the legs and claws. Push back and remove the pointed flap, and take out the central body part a large ma.s.s of thin bone, crab meat and 'dead men's fingers'. Remove the small mouth part, too, by pressing down on it: it will snap away.

Have two basins ready. Scoop out all the soft yellowish-brown meat from the sh.e.l.l the best part and put it in one basin. Add any yellowish meat still adhering to the central body. Crack the large claws and remove the sweet pinkish-white meat and put it into the second basin. The quick part of the work is now over. Settle down with a larding needle or crochet hook, a small mallet and a teaspoon, and poke out all the residue of delicious white fibres from the central body, and the meat from the legs. Be careful not to add tiny pieces of thin sh.e.l.l to the basin. A good 1 kg (12 lb) crab can yield 375 g (12 oz) of edible deliciousness if you are prepared to be a little patient. This is enough for three people, or more if you are going to add sauces, salad ingredients and so on.

The large sh.e.l.l can be turned into a container for the crab. You will notice a beautifully curved line on the undersh.e.l.l. Give a few hard taps on the inner side of it, by the gaping hole, and the rough pieces will fall away along the line. Scrub out the sh.e.l.l, and brush it lightly with oil if you want to give it a gloss.

CRAB MAYONNAISE AND CRAB LOUIS.

A good way of serving crab is to make it the focal point of a large salad. There is nothing original in the idea. To the usual ingredients, add slices of avocado pear (brushed with lemon juice to stop them blackening); this goes well with crab and mayonnaise. Hard-boil some eggs, cream the yolks with crab meat and a little mayonnaise, and fill the whites with this mixture. Try differently flavoured mayonnaise sauces.

Here is one version of an American mayonnaise, the main point of which is the chilli sauce. Sometimes finely chopped green pepper is included.

Crab Louis Mix together the following ingredients: Serves 6mayonnaise, made with 2 egg yolks, 150 ml (5 fl oz) oil and the usual flavourings*125 ml (4 fl oz) double cream, whipped60 ml (2 fl oz) chilli sauce2 tablespoons grated onion2 tablespoons chopped parsleydash of cayenne or or Tabasco Tabasco1 teaspoon green pepper (optional)extra lime or lemon juice Arrange the crab meat on lettuce cover with the dressing and add the usual hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes and so on.

ACHILTIBUIE CRAB SOUFFLe.

Mark Irvine's Summer Isles Hotel, north-west of Ullapool in Scotland, is so far from the main road, along a single track, that he reckons it is a test of character for any guest arriving the first time. We certainly wondered where we were going to end up, the country would have seemed deserted if it had not been for the astonis.h.i.+ng number of cars, even lorries, that we made way for. After 25 km (16 miles), we found ourselves on a narrowing tongue of land between beautiful pale sandy bays and turned left to Achiltibuie village and an hotel of rea.s.suring comfort and warmth.

Sarah Irvine presides in the kitchen and has a much wider range of ingredients than you would think possible in such a place. She flavours her souffles with crab bought from the fishermen in the village, or with her husband's artichokes. He seems able to grow anything, either in his hydroponic.u.m behind the hotel, or in plastic tunnels on the land which slopes down to the sea.

Serves 810b.u.t.ter and dry crumbs for 2 souffle dishes, or 810 individual dishes90 g (3 oz) b.u.t.ter60 g (2 oz) plain flour450 ml (15 fl oz) milk small bay leaf100 g (3 oz) grated onionsalt, pepper1 tablespoon anchovy essence2 teaspoons made English mustard375 g (12 oz) crab meat8 eggs, separated Brush the dishes with soft b.u.t.ter and scatter with crumbs. Shake out the surplus.

Make up the souffle base by melting the b.u.t.ter, stirring in the flour and cooking it gently for 2 minutes. Heat the milk and stir it in to make a smooth sauce. Add the bay leaf, onion and seasoning. Cook for about 20 minutes, tasting from time to time and removing the bay leaf before it becomes too dominant. Remove the pan from the heat and add the anchovy essence, mustard and crab meat. Beat in the egg yolks. Whisk the whites until stiff and fold them in, a little at first to slacken the mixture.

Divide the mixture between the dishes. Bake the larger souffles at gas 6, 200 C (400 F) for 1215 minutes, the smaller ones for 7-9 minutes. Serve immediately.

VARIATION Instead of crab, use the cooked and sieved bases of 8 artichokes, and use crumbled dry Stilton to flavour the sauce rather than anchovy and mustard. Allow about 175 g (6 oz), but add it to taste. Instead of crab, use the cooked and sieved bases of 8 artichokes, and use crumbled dry Stilton to flavour the sauce rather than anchovy and mustard. Allow about 175 g (6 oz), but add it to taste.

BRETON CRAB SOUP.

One evening in 1884, Edmond de Goncourt and Emile Zola were invited to dinner by their publisher, Charpentier. It was so delicious that de Goncourt wondered if Charpentier was about to abscond with the cash, and became slightly nervous about the money owing on his novel Cherie Cherie. The star turn was crab soup, a Breton dish little known in Paris at that time. It was like a sh.e.l.lfish bisque, but 'with something finer to it, something tastier, something more of the ocean'.

2 medium-sized cooked crabs1 carrot, sliced1 onion stuck with 3 clovesbouquet garni250 ml (8 fl oz) dry white wine, preferably Muscadetfish, veal or chicken stock150 g (5 oz) riceup to 150 ml (5 fl oz) single creamsalt, pepper, cayenne Remove the meat from the cooked crabs and set it aside. Put all the debris into a pan with the carrot, onion, bouquet, wine and enough stock to cover everything generously. Simmer for 30 minutes. Extract the toughest pieces of claw sh.e.l.l, then whizz the rest in a liquidizer to extract every hint of flavour into the liquid. Pour through a sieve into the rinsed out pan do not press too hard, just enough to extract the softer part.

In a separate pan, meanwhile, cook the rice in some more stock, or water. When very tender, put it into the liquidizer with most of the crab meat (keep enough for the garnish). Blend to a puree and add to the crab sh.e.l.l stock. Taste and dilute further if necessary with more stock or water. Add cream to taste and reheat to just under boiling point. Put in extra seasoning, with a good pinch of cayenne, and the crab pieces you kept for the garnish. Leave for another 5 minutes, still without boiling, then serve with croutons or bread fried in b.u.t.ter.

CHILLED GUMBO BISQUE.

The gumbo stews of the southern states of America are often given their defining character by okra. Here is a delicious soup in which they may seem subdued: nonetheless they are essential to the satin smoothness and unusual flavour of the soup. This recipe is an anglicized version of a bisque devised by a New York friend to use up a can of crab claws. I never find canned sh.e.l.lfish satisfactory it is almost as tasteless as the frozen kind and prefer to use fresh crab claws which are sometimes sold separately, or fresh prawns in their sh.e.l.ls. The important thing is to have some hard debris to flavour the stock, as well as soft meat for finis.h.i.+ng the soup.

300375 g (1012 oz) fresh boiled crab claws or or prawns in their sh.e.l.ls prawns in their sh.e.l.ls1 litre (1 pt) fish or chicken stock, plus 450 ml (15 fl oz) water or or 1 kg (2 lb) fish tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs plus 1 litres (2 pt) water and 250 ml (8 fl oz) dry white wine or cider 1 kg (2 lb) fish tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs plus 1 litres (2 pt) water and 250 ml (8 fl oz) dry white wine or cider100 g (3 oz) chopped celery100 g (3 oz) chopped onion green pepper, chopped23 tablespoons b.u.t.ter250 g (8 oz) okra1 medium can tomatoes (approx. 400 g/14 oz)100 g (3 oz) ricesalt, pepper, cayenne Sh.e.l.l crab claws or prawns. Put the debris into a large pan. Set aside the meat. To the pan, add stock and water, or fish tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, water and wine or cider. Simmer for 45 minutes to extract the flavours, then strain into a measuring jug and add water to make 1 litres (2 pt). Meanwhile, soften the celery, onion and pepper in b.u.t.ter. Prepare and cut the okra in slices 1 cm ( inch) thick. Add them with stock, tomatoes and rice to the vegetables. Season. Cover and simmer for an hour. Puree in the blender, dilute further if you like, then chill overnight or for at least 4 hours. Serve with some or all of the crab meat or prawns.

CRAB OR SHRIMP SOUP.

Crabs, shrimps, prawns and freshwater crayfish can all be used to make a bisque, even the tiny crabs you pick up on holiday.

Use the Bisque de homard recipe (p. 211) as a guide. You will need 11 kg (23 lb) of crab or shrimps. Subst.i.tute water for fish stock and add 500 g (1 lb) or more of good tomatoes. With tiny sh.e.l.lfish there is obviously no point in attempting to separate the meat from the sh.e.l.l, but it is important to break them up in a rough and ready fas.h.i.+on, about halfway through the main cooking time, so that none of their flavour is wasted.

For a more southern flavour, subst.i.tute olive oil for b.u.t.ter, include garlic and saffron in the herbs, and cook some fine pasta (forget the rice) in the soup after it has been sieved.

This recipe shows that no fish, however tiny, are useless to the cook, so long as the quant.i.ty is there.

CRAB TART (Tarte soufflee au crabe) Use crab meat that is fresh for this tart, preferably from crabs you have cooked yourself. The recipe is easily adapted to other sh.e.l.lfish, with appropriate changes or additions to the seasoning.

In Britain, we like our pie pastry to be short and crumbly; if we need something stronger, for instance for raised pies, we use a hot water crust. The French pate brisee pate brisee lies somewhere between the two; it has to hold the filling for an open flan or tart, and yet be crisp and thin. One thing that our shortcrust and lies somewhere between the two; it has to hold the filling for an open flan or tart, and yet be crisp and thin. One thing that our shortcrust and pate brisee pate brisee have in common is the need for coolness and quick working; marble is the ideal surface. Water should be iced; one's hands cool. Rests for the dough in the refrigerator are essential, both before and after rolling. The one utensil you really need is a dough sc.r.a.per. have in common is the need for coolness and quick working; marble is the ideal surface. Water should be iced; one's hands cool. Rests for the dough in the refrigerator are essential, both before and after rolling. The one utensil you really need is a dough sc.r.a.per.

Serves 68FOR THE PaTE BRISeE200 g (7 oz) plain flour, plus extra if necessarypinch of salt1 egg yolksabout 3 tablespoons iced water100 g (3 oz) cold but malleable b.u.t.ter, cut in fourFOR THE FILLINGabout 500 g (1 lb) meat from two large crabssalt, pepper, cayenne, mace to taste3 eggs, separated200250 ml (78 fl oz) creme fraiche or or half soured, half double cream half soured, half double creamabout 1 tablespoon each grated Parmesan and Gruyere cheese For the pastry, sift the floor and salt on to a marble slab or cold Formica surface. Make a well in the centre and put in the egg yolks, 2 tablespoons iced water and the b.u.t.ter. With your fingers, work the yolk mixture together, crus.h.i.+ng the b.u.t.ter. Then gradually pull in the flour until you have a soft dough. Add the extra iced water if needed. Use the dough sc.r.a.per to help you form the ball of dough which should not be tacky. Press the dough away from you with the heel of your hand, two or three times, using a light sprinkling of flour if necessary. Wrap in foil, parchment or cling film and chill for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 days after that, you can store in the freezer.

When you are ready to make the tart, roll out the dough to line a 2325-cm (910-inch) shortcrust pastry case and chill again. Preheat the oven to gas 7, 220 C (425 F) and bake the pastry case blind until firm but not coloured.

For the filling, check over the crab meat to make sure that there are no bits of sh.e.l.l in it. Season it to taste. Beat in the egg yolks, and the creme fraiche or creams, and add the grated cheese gradually to taste. Whisk the whites until they are stiff and then fold them in. Pile the filling into the tart and put in the oven at the same temperature as the pastry case was baked. Lower the oven to gas 5, 190 C (375 F) after 2 or 3 minutes and leave the tart for a further 30 minutes, or until the filling is puffed and slightly browned. If you like a creamy centre, remove the tart from the oven while it is wobbly under the crust in the middle.

Serve with a salad and rye or wholemeal bread.

GRAPEFRUIT AND CRAB SALAD.

In hollowed-out grapefruit sh.e.l.ls, put a salad made of crab meat mixed with some of the fruit's skinned, diced segments, after first lining the sh.e.l.l with a lettuce leaf, so that it frills slightly over the edge. The rest of the grapefruit flesh can be used for another dish. If you like, also add some diced cuc.u.mber or tomato, with wedges of hard-boiled egg.

Put a spoonful of mayonnaise on top of each filling, to which you can add a little brandy if you like. Put a neat piece of grapefruit on top. Serve chilled, with extra mayonnaise and brown bread and b.u.t.ter.

You may subst.i.tute sh.e.l.led prawns for the crab.

POTTED CRAB.

In the past, potted meats and fish and sh.e.l.lfish were a practical way of storing food since the top layer of clarified b.u.t.ter kept out the air and preserved the contents underneath in a reasonable manner. They were our equivalent to pates and terrines in French cookery. What they often depended on for success was hard pounding by some poor young creature learning his or her trade in the kitchen. As this kind of labour disappeared, so did potted meat and fish, although odd examples survived often very nastily in some parts of the country where they had always been made by butchers: some Midlands potted beef I tasted on one of my tours of Britain was as disgusting as any we had been served in our northern boarding school during the war.

Now there is a revival of such dishes, thanks to the introduction of electric mixers, blenders and processors. Indeed, potted kipper and mackerel pastes have become too much of a cliche for comfort.

Potted sh.e.l.lfish can be very successful. The first recipe I give below is Elizabeth David's traditional formula, which is followed by a more elaborate version from Michael Quinn.

Elizabeth David's Potted Crab This is one of the best ways of eating crab, very rich and delicious. It is taken from her pamphlet English Potted Meats and Fish Pastes English Potted Meats and Fish Pastes. This method of serving crab is particularly successful as a lunch dish, to be followed by a green salad, or a salad of purple-sprouting broccoli. It works well for lobster, too.

Serves 461 kg (2 lb) crab, boiledblack pepper, mace, nutmeg, cayenne pepperlemon juicesalt (see (see recipe recipe)about 250 g (8 oz) slightly-salted or unsalted b.u.t.terclarified b.u.t.ter to seal Pick all the meat from the crab, being careful to keep the firm and creamy parts separate. Season both with spices and lemon juice salt may be necessary if you bought the crab ready boiled. There will be about 375 g (12 oz) meat.

Choose an attractive round stoneware pot, or an oval one. Pack the crab meat into it, in layers. (If you prefer it, use four to six individual pots or souffle dishes.) Melt the b.u.t.ter and pour it over the crab meat. There should be enough just to cover it the quant.i.ty required will depend on the amount of crab meat you had the patience to pick out of the sh.e.l.l, and on whether you used one or half-a-dozen pots. It is only fair to point out that Danish especially Lurpak or French b.u.t.ter gives the best result with potted meat and fish: it is made in a different way from English b.u.t.ter, and has a milder flavour and better consistency for this kind of dish.

Leave to cool, then cover with clarified b.u.t.ter: a thin layer if the crab is going to be eaten within twenty-four hours; a 1-cm (-inch) layer if it is being kept for a few days in this latter case, add a foil covering so that the b.u.t.ter does not dry out and contract from the edge of the pot, so spoiling the seal.

Michael Quinn's Potted Crab Serves 675 g (2 oz) chopped shallot2 tablespoons dry white wine2 tablespoons Noilly Pratpinch of mixed spicepinch of cinnamonpinch of gingerpinch of crushed coriander seedspinch of cayenne pepperpinch of nutmeg400 g (14 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter, cubed300 g (10 oz) white crab meat300 g (10 oz) brown crab meatsalt Put shallots, wine, Noilly Prat and spices into a pan and boil down to a juicy puree, with the shallot tender and the liquor reduced to just over a couple of tablespoons. Stir in the bits of b.u.t.ter, and when they are melted, simmer for 20 minutes. Remove, cool 30 minutes and sieve into a bowl.

Set the bowl over ice and whisk until thick and creamy but not hard. Mix in the crab meat. Taste and add salt and other extra seasoning as required. Spoon into six pots, cover with foil and chill in the refrigerator. Serve with brown bread and b.u.t.ter, and with some bitter-leaved salad.

SOFT-Sh.e.l.l CRABS.

Soft-sh.e.l.l crabs are a speciality of Venice, and of the southern coast of North America. They are not a separate species, but crabs which are 'moulting' i.e. they have shed their sh.e.l.ls, and the new one is still fragile. This sudden loss of weight means that they rise to the surface and can easily be caught. The Venetian molecchie, a May delicacy, are tiny, about 25 cm (12 inches) across. They are washed, then soaked for a while in beaten egg (which they largely absorb). Just before the meal, they are drained, shaken in flour and deep-fried. One eats the whole thing, sh.e.l.l, claws, the lot, and it tastes like a crisp delicious biscuit.

In America the crabs are larger two or three are a reasonable portion but they are treated in much the same way. Sometimes they are grilled and brushed with melted b.u.t.ter. Tartare sauce or a similarly flavoured mayonnaise is served with them.

SEAFOOD PUDDING (Strata) This is one of the best bread-and-b.u.t.ter puddings, but made with crab or prawns. For economy, a proportion of lightly cooked and flaked white fish can be used with the crab or prawns, but never more than half.

Serves 6b.u.t.ter12 slices from a small sandwich loafmeat from a large crab or or 250 g (8 oz) sh.e.l.led crab or sh.e.l.led prawns 250 g (8 oz) sh.e.l.led crab or sh.e.l.led prawnssalt, pepper, cayenne1 tender celery stalk, chopped finely1 tablespoon chopped onion150 ml (5 fl oz) mayonnaise3 tablespoons mixed herbs chopped parsley, tarragon, chervil and chives3 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheeseapprox. 175 g (6 oz) Gruyere, fontina or or Gouda cheese, grated Gouda cheese, grated4 eggs250 ml (8 fl oz) milk250 ml (8 fl oz) single cream b.u.t.ter the bread and cut off the crusts. Season the crab or prawns. Mix the celery and onion with the mayonnaise, herbs and Parmesan and then fold into the sh.e.l.lfish. Make six sandwiches with the mixture.

b.u.t.ter a dish that will take the sandwiches in a single layer. Cut them in half and place in the dish. Dot with the grated Gruyere, fontina or Gouda. Beat the eggs with the milk and cream and pour into the dish. Leave in the fridge for 2 hours or longer (overnight will not hurt).

Bake in the oven, preheated to gas 4, 180 C (350 F), for 3040 minutes, lowering the heat as the top browns.

CRAWFISH see see LOBSTERS LOBSTERS CROAKERS & DRUMS see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... CROAKERS & DRUMS CROAKERS & DRUMS CUTTLEFISH see see SQUID SQUID DAB see see SOLE SOLE DOGFISH see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... DOGFISH DOGFISH DOLPHINFISH see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... DOLPHINFISH DOLPHINFISH DORADO see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... DOLPHINFISH DOLPHINFISH DUBLIN BAY PRAWNS see see LOBSTERS LOBSTERS

EELS & ELVERS (Anguilla anguilla & Anguilla rostrata) [image]

I love eel. Sometimes I think it is my favourite fish. It is delicate, but rich; it falls neatly from the bone; grilled to golden brown and flecked with dark crustiness from a charcoal fire, it makes the best of all picnic food; stewed in red wine, cus.h.i.+oned with onions and mushrooms, bordered with triangles of fried bread, it is the meal for cold nights in autumn; smoked and cut into elegant fillets, it starts a wedding feast or a Christmas Eve dinner with style and confidence. Its skin is so tough that it was used to join the two parts of a flail together (think of the strain on that join as the flails thumped down to winnow the corn at harvest), or to make a whip for a boy's top, or to bind the elastic to his catapult. The eel has picturesque habits, often lurking in old mill leats under willow roots, until it is seduced by a waisted eel-trap set by the sluice gate.

It has mystery, too. Aristotle wondered why no eel was ever found with roe or milt. This question had become a matter for poetry, or poetical prosing, by the time of Izaak Walton 'others say, that as pearls are made of glutinous dew drops, which are condensed by the sun's heat in those countries, so Eels are bred of a particular dew'. The true poet, though, of this strange creature, was not Izaak Walton, or any other mystified ancient, but a biologist; the great Danish biologist Johannes Schmidt. In 1922, after twenty-five years of back-tracking eel larvae, he came right over the sp.a.w.ning ground, the correct 'particular dew'.

The first larva was found by chance near the Faroe Islands in 1904; a willow-leaf of transparency, 77 mm (3 inches) long and, as it turned out, three years old. Other smaller larvae were found in the following years, further away from the coasts of Europe. Schmidt realized that if he could follow this trail of diminis.h.i.+ng larvae, he would come to their home. Which he did in 1922 (the First World War had held things up). Right over the sp.a.w.ning ground, at the seaweedy eastern side of the Sarga.s.so Sea, he brought up in his net the tiniest larvae of all 5 mm ( inch) long.

Millions of them radiate out in all directions. Elvers of the American eel, Anguilla rostrata Anguilla rostrata, share the same sp.a.w.ning grounds as the European eel's, but veer to the west and have only a short journey to make by comparison. In a year, they reach the East Coast and wriggle in vast troops up rivers from the Gulf of the St Lawrence to Mexico. Of the elvers of Anguilla anguilla Anguilla anguilla, only those caught in the Gulf Stream survive and make the journey to Europe. There, almost in sight of land, the willow-leaf becomes a wriggling, vigorous, wormlike object, the gla.s.s-eel or elver, ready to swarm up the rivers of Europe from the Atlantic, the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. (Apparently the slowness of larval growth increased over unimaginable time, as the continents drifted slowly apart: the eels clung tenaciously both to their sp.a.w.ning ground, and to their familiar rivers, however long the journey between them became.) The elvers now come together in broods. They can be seen stringing along for miles in a yard-wide cordon or eel-fare (from which we have the word elver), pus.h.i.+ng upstream at night with a strength incredible to anyone who has bought 500 g (1 lb) of elvers, feeble, thread-like things, from Gloucester market. Winds, tides, the hours of daylight, and of darkness which is their travelling time, all affect their speed, but they aren't stopped by obstacles in their way. One French biologist remarked that he had seen them pa.s.s waterfalls, weirs, locks. He had seen them climb vertical walls, lock walls, even coming out of the water so long as there was a little moisture. The bodies of the casualties stick to the walls to make a sort of ladder for the push of elvers behind. They can wriggle themselves through the narrowest cracks... 'and so they manage to populate the smallest stretches of water, even those which might seem to have no connection at all with a river'.

It is at night, between ebb and falling tide, that the Severn elver-fisherman sets out. He carries a scoop net, and a bucket for the catch; he has a lamp too, and sticks to support it. The elvers are mainly dispatched to the eel farms of northern Europe, but some are kept for the housewives of the Severn area as a spring delicacy for suppertime. If you live anywhere near Gloucester, it is worth making a visit in March (or April according to the season) to find elvers, to see the elver-fisherman's equipment in the Folk Museum in Westgate Street, and buy an excellent ill.u.s.trated guide to the Severn Fishery collection, by John Neufville Taylor. At Frampton-on-Severn, there is an annual elver-eating compet.i.tion: the record 500 g (1 lb) in a minute is held by the village garage mechanic.

The elvers which survive the journey, and the attentions of fishermen, grow slowly to maturity in the hidden crannies of streams. Young eels are yellowish at first (yellow eels are not worth eating), then after eight years or more their flanks turn to silver and they are ready for the long swim home. In autumn, the ones who can return downstream, avoiding nets stretched across many rivers, and barriers of basketwork and reeds, with more or less success. These silver eels, mature eels, are the best. They are caught in tons at the mouths of some rivers: at Comacchio on the Po, it has been known for 1,000 tons to be caught in a single night. A favourite dish there is a simple soup of eel layered with slices of onion, carrot, and celery and seasoned with parsley and lemon rind. The eel is covered with water, and halfway through the cooking a spoonful or two of tomato concentrate and wine vinegar are added.

Once in salt water, the silver eel streaks out for the Sarga.s.so Sea, thousands of miles away, fathoms down, along dark cold currents, with no light or fis.h.i.+ng nets to impede its path. Eel from the Black Sea may take a year, but eel from Western Europe will do it in about six months, ready to sp.a.w.n in the spring.

Only the European eel, Anguilla anguilla Anguilla anguilla, makes so arduous and to our mind so moving a journey (other species, Anguilla rostrata Anguilla rostrata, or j.a.ponica j.a.ponica, or australis australis, have their sp.a.w.ning grounds comparatively close to the streams of North America, or j.a.pan or Australia). As the salmon knows its way back to the river where it was born, so the eel knows its way back to the Sarga.s.so Sea but how much longer a journey that is. Mature eels are never found returning to Europe, so it seems that once they have sp.a.w.ned they die exhausted by the double effort: 'The Sarga.s.so Sea is at once their grave, and the cradle of their descendants.'1 As to the elvers which are sent to eel-farms, they are destined to lead a pampered life, with the result that they will reach maturity in only two or three years. At Le Croisic in Brittany, old salt-marsh workings have been turned into great basins to accommodate the elvers or civelles civelles of the Loire. Their seawater is regularly changed to avoid pollution, they are anxiously scrutinized for the first hints of disease, and their favourite food is flung to them in abundant quant.i.ty. Fish-farming seems to be more satisfactory than intensive meat-farming, because the end-product has a much better flavour. n.o.body, I think, could tell the difference between eel-farm eels and the ones we are often given from the Loire. Both are absolutely delicious, the occasion for rejoicing. of the Loire. Their seawater is regularly changed to avoid pollution, they are anxiously scrutinized for the first hints of disease, and their favourite food is flung to them in abundant quant.i.ty. Fish-farming seems to be more satisfactory than intensive meat-farming, because the end-product has a much better flavour. n.o.body, I think, could tell the difference between eel-farm eels and the ones we are often given from the Loire. Both are absolutely delicious, the occasion for rejoicing.

WHAT TO DO WITH ELVERS.

Elvers are extremely filling; I think you will find that 750 g (1 lb) is enough for four people with good appet.i.tes. When you set out to buy them, take an old, clean pillowcase into which the fishmonger can tip them. At home, add a large handful of kitchen salt to the elvers, and swish the pillowcase about in a big bowl of water. Squeeze firmly to remove as much water as possible. Then add another handful of salt, and repeat the process with more cold water. This may be enough to get rid of the slight sliminess of the elvers, but be prepared to wash them a third time, and to pick them over continuously to get rid of bits of twig and gra.s.s, the general murk of the full river.

Exhausted after an evening's work at the swirling ma.s.s, I can never face cooking and eating them at once. Some go into water in a covered bowl in the refrigerator for the next day: the rest, divided into convenient quant.i.ties, are tied into plastic bags set in refrigerator boxes and put into the freezer for later use, without further preparation. The cold kills them. They store well. This I learned in Spain, surprised to be served elvers at several restaurants at the end of September, right out of season: my informant, a knowing waiter in a Salamanca restaurant just by the covered market, added that quant.i.ties of elvers came in from Britain as Spanish rivers could not provide enough of such a favourite delicacy. This reminded me bitterly that it is impossible to buy eels in most parts of Britain and America because they are flown off to Holland. There are few treats more appreciated by North Europeans than smoked eel and schnaps.

GLOUCESTER STYLE Fry 8 rashers of very fat bacon until crisp. Take the rashers from the pan, and fry 500 g (1 lb) elvers in the bacon fat. When they turn white after a few seconds stir in a couple of beaten, seasoned eggs, to make a kind of omelette. Eat with the bacon. Don't overcook the elvers; the omelette should just be set, not at all leathery. Fry 8 rashers of very fat bacon until crisp. Take the rashers from the pan, and fry 500 g (1 lb) elvers in the bacon fat. When they turn white after a few seconds stir in a couple of beaten, seasoned eggs, to make a kind of omelette. Eat with the bacon. Don't overcook the elvers; the omelette should just be set, not at all leathery.

KEYNSHAM STYLE Keynsham is a small town between Bath and Bristol which, according to the 1748 edition of Defoe's Keynsham is a small town between Bath and Bristol which, according to the 1748 edition of Defoe's Tour through Great Britain Tour through Great Britain, used to supply both cities with elver cakes. The elvers were well seasoned and baked in shortcrust pastry for about 20 minutes. Modern oven setting would be fairly hot (gas 5, 190C/375F).

LOIRE STYLE Put 500 g (1 lb) elvers into a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Add some salt and a bay leaf. Bring the water to boiling point and simmer until they are white. Line a colander with muslin and pour the eels into it leave them to cool. Put 500 g (1 lb) elvers into a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Add some salt and a bay leaf. Bring the water to boiling point and simmer until they are white. Line a colander with muslin and pour the eels into it leave them to cool.

When you want to eat the elvers, melt 100 g (3 oz) b.u.t.ter in a large frying pan with a crushed clove of garlic. Allow the garlic to cook slowly in the melted b.u.t.ter for a few seconds, then add the elvers. Turn them about over a gentle heat until they are coated with the b.u.t.ter and very hot. Sprinkle them generously with chopped parsley; serve straightaway with bread and b.u.t.ter and dry white wine.

SPANISH STYLE Angulas en cazuelita Angulas en cazuelita, elvers in little pots, come bubbling hot to table in Spanish restaurants, with little flat wooden forks to spear them with. For 3 or 4 people, you need about 500 g (1 lb) elvers. Heat 8 tablespoons of olive oil with 2 red hot chillies, slit into two and seeded. Crush them down into the oil so that they colour it slightly, and put in 4 large, skinned, halved cloves of garlic: keep the heat moderate so that the oil is well-flavoured by both items before the garlic turns a deep golden brown. At this point, remove the garlic and chillies, and tip in the elvers, swirling them round in the pan until they are opaque. This takes a minute or two, not long. Salt them, then divide between three or four well-heated earthenware pots and rush them to table. Provide plenty of bread and dry white wine.

WHITEBAIT STYLE Turn the drained and dry elvers into a plastic or paper bag with some seasoned flour and shake them about so that they are coated with flour. Tip into a chip basket, allowing surplus flour to fall off (into the sink or on to a piece of paper). Fry them in hot deep fat for a few moments until they are crisp; give them a second frying time at a higher temperature, like chips, if they aren't crisp in a few moments the first time. Serve with lemon quarters, and brown bread and b.u.t.ter. Turn the drained and dry elvers into a plastic or paper bag with some seasoned flour and shake them about so that they are coated with flour. Tip into a chip basket, allowing surplus flour to fall off (into the sink or on to a piece of paper). Fry them in hot deep fat for a few moments until they are crisp; give them a second frying time at a higher temperature, like chips, if they aren't crisp in a few moments the first time. Serve with lemon quarters, and brown bread and b.u.t.ter.

To my way of thinking, the Loire and Spanish styles are the best way of eating elvers. Some cookery books allow 250 g (8 oz) per person: I find that 125 g (4 oz) is plenty. With any slightly unusual food, you should never give people the chance to feel surfeited, because this will increase any lurking quivers of revulsion. Small quant.i.ties, well cooked, leave a desire for more on another occasion.

HOW TO CHOOSE AND PREPARE EELS.

Eels should be bought alive. Insist on this (unless your fishmonger can be trusted when he says the eels on sale have just been killed that morning). Then ask the fishmonger to kill it for you.

Many recipes demand skinned eel, but for grilling and baking I find that the skin acts as a valuable barding layer. And when it is crinkly brown and charred from a fire of charcoal or vine prunings, it is good to eat as well: those who don't like it can easily cut it away at this stage. Certain dishes would be less appealing with the dark skin of the eel, matelote or a pie for instance, but consider the matter before you rush in to have it skinned.

Although the fishmonger will skin the eel for you and he should have no hesitation, considering the price you are about to pay it is prudent to know exactly what to do in case an angling husband or neighbour presents you with an eel in a bucket of water. If you are really squeamish, ask someone to hold it down while you kill it with one blow at the back of the head with a cleaver, and chop the rest rapidly into chunks without skinning them. I don't like doing this; it makes me understand why people about to be beheaded were often anxious about the axeman's aim.

A better system is to kill the eel by piercing through the back of the head, through the spinal marrow, with a strong skewer; it is fair to ask the angler to do this. Now suspend the eel from a strong hook, using a slip loop of rope. Make a circular cut with a Stanley knife just below the rope, right through the skin. Sprinkle the cut with salt and, with the a.s.sistance of pliers, ease the skin away from the body for about 1 cm ( inch), enough to provide a grip. Now pull the skin down the body as if you were removing a tight glove, pliers in one hand and a piece of skin in the other. This can be tricky. I must admit that I've sometimes swung round an eel as if it were a rope-swing on a streetlamp. But once you get going, it is easy. Untie the eel, cut off and discard the head, chop the rest into appropriately sized pieces, and wash and clean them. A warning pieces of eel may continue to jerk about in a disconcerting way. Leave them for a while in a covered pot.

CHICKEN WITH EEL IN THE DIGOIN STYLE (Poulet de ferme etuve a la digoinaise) This old Burgundian recipe, like the pochouse on p. 505 p. 505 from the last part of the nineteenth century, I would say, comes from Alexandre Dumaine, now alas dead, once one of the finest chefs in France, contemporary and friend of the great Fernand Point, the inspiration and founder of today's nouvelle cuisine. Dumaine's restaurant, the Cote d'Or at Saulieu 72 km (45 miles) west of Dijon, was a high place of French gastronomy when I started writing about food in the sixties (we could never afford to go there, something I still regret). Then he retired to another part of Burgundy, his native town of Digoin, where the ca.n.a.l goes over the Loire in a beautiful stone bridge with barges bringing china clay for the porcelain factories. Among other things, he encouraged and trained Jean-Paul Billioux who, of all odd, square, ugly places, had made the Hotel de la Gare famous for its food. from the last part of the nineteenth century, I would say, comes from Alexandre Dumaine, now alas dead, once one of the finest chefs in France, contemporary and friend of the great Fernand Point, the inspiration and founder of today's nouvelle cuisine. Dumaine's restaurant, the Cote d'Or at Saulieu 72 km (45 miles) west of Dijon, was a high place of French gastronomy when I started writing about food in the sixties (we could never afford to go there, something I still regret). Then he retired to another part of Burgundy, his native town of Digoin, where the ca.n.a.l goes over the Loire in a beautiful stone bridge with barges bringing china clay for the porcelain factories. Among other things, he encouraged and trained Jean-Paul Billioux who, of all odd, square, ugly places, had made the Hotel de la Gare famous for its food.

I give the recipe as reported by Alexander Watt, in The Art of Simple French Cookery The Art of Simple French Cookery, a book he dedicated to Dumaine who was at that time, after Point's death in 1954, France's greatest chef. It was a dish of his father's time, which he was still eating frequently, 'avec emotion'. For today's tastes, you can omit the flour and concentrate the sauce by boiling it down. The country bread Dumaine speaks of was is not wholemeal but a huge loaf of coa.r.s.er, more chewy texture than the usual French bread, though still light and holey: there really is no subst.i.tute I use thick slices of bread made from unbleached white flour, though it is heavier than I would like.

Serves 41 generous kg (2 lb) chicken, cut into 8 pieces250 g (8 oz) eel, cut into 4 lengths60 g (2 oz) b.u.t.ter1 tablespoons plain flour175 ml (6 fl oz) dry white wine250 ml (8 fl oz) waterbouquet garni2 cloves garlic, crushed, skinnedsalt, pepper6 slices country bread, fried in b.u.t.ter No need to skin either chicken or eel pieces you need the richness for the sauce. Melt the b.u.t.ter in a large heavy saute pan. Put in the chicken and eel. Cover and leave to cook gently for 10 minutes this is stewing rather than frying. Turn, cover again and leave for a further 10 minutes: the pieces should not brown or catch the heat.

Remove the chicken and eel to a plate. Spoon off any clear fat. Stir in the flour, cook very gently for a couple of minutes, then stir in the wine and water to make a sauce. Add the bouquet and garlic, and season. When everything is simmering harmoniously, put back the chicken and eel. Cover again and stew until everything is tender. Dumaine suggests 50 minutes for this, which indicates a very low heat indeed. I find 30 minutes is about right if you are using an electric hob rather than gas: it is sensible to remove chicken breast pieces and the thinnest length of eel before they overcook.

Put the six newly-fried pieces of bread on to a serving dish. Arrange boned pieces of chicken and boned eel (remove the skin if it looks raggy) on the bread. Keep it all warm. Taste the sauce for seasoning; adjust it by boiling down or by adding extra liquid so that it has consistency without heaviness. Strain and pour a little over the chicken and eel, the rest round the bread. Serve very hot, with extra bread.

EEL IN THE GREEN (Anguille au vert) The idea of eel undulating through the greenery of a stream is one that has much appealed to cooks. Sedgmoor eel stew (p. 138) gives the simplest style of all; then there is Guy Mouilleron's jellied eel mousse with watercress sauce (p. 137), and this great cla.s.sic of Belgian and French cookery, Anguille au vert. The recipe below gives the simplest combination of greens, and sorrel is essential: watercress could be used instead of spinach (one English restaurateur's recipe includes onion, chives, parsley and young nettle leaves, as well as wild sorrel for its extra sharpness).

If you don't grow sorrel in your garden or on your 17th-floor kitchen windowsill put sorrel seed at the top of your shopping list. A cook without sorrel to hand is a deprived creature, a subject for lamentation.

Serves 61 kg (3 lb) eel, skinnedsalt, pepper125 g (4 oz) clarified b.u.t.ter3 handfuls (about 175 g/6 oz) sorrel, shredded3 handfuls (about 175 g/6 oz) spinach, shredded1 handful parsley (about 60 g/2 oz), chopped6 sage leaves, chopped8 tarragon leaves, chopped375 ml (12 fl oz) dry white wine3 large egg yolks125 ml (4 fl oz) whipping or or double cream (optional) double cream (optional)lemon juice6 slices fried bread, if dish it to be eaten hot Cut up the eel into pieces that will fit nicely on to the bread, for eating hot. For cold eating, cut them into fewer, longer pieces. Season and fry them in the b.u.t.ter until they begin to brown, then put in the sorrel and spinach. As they cook down, add the herbs and wine. Simmer until the eel is tender, about 15 minutes depending on thickness. Take the pan from the heat. Bone the eel pieces and arrange them on the hot bread on a serving dish or on six plates, and keep them warm: for cold eating, arrange the boned fillets on a serving dish and put it near the stove while you finish the sauce.

In the pan, beat the egg yolk with the cream if used, and some of the hot herby liquor. Put the pan back on the heat, stir in the egg yolk mixture and continue stirring until the sauce thickens gently, without coming near boiling point. Check the seasoning, sharpen agreeably with lemon juice and pour over the eel. Serve either very hot with very hot plates, or chilled.

AN EEL PIE WORTHY OF EEL-PIE ISLAND.

From the seventeenth century until recently, people went to enjoy themselves at Twickenham Eyot in the Thames in other words Eel-Pie Island. Boating parties, anglers, picnickers, gathered on its leafy acres, and bought eel pies from the inn. How sad that the famous inn should have ended up as a hippy battleground. Here is a recipe from The Cook's Oracle The Cook's Oracle by Dr William Kitchiner. It was published in 1843, when Eel-Pie Island was at the height of its prosperity, and soon after the inn had been enlarged to include a splendid a.s.sembly room. by Dr William Kitchiner. It was published in 1843, when Eel-Pie Island was at the height of its prosperity, and soon after the inn had been enlarged to include a splendid a.s.sembly room.

The interesting thing is that this recipe, which I thought had vanished from our cookery many years before, turned up again recently when I was preparing British Cookery British Cookery in the winter of 198384. It is on the menu of the Old Fire Engine House restaurant in Ely, close to the Fens where eels still flourish. The proprietor, Ann Jarman, told me that she found the recipe in a local Women's Inst.i.tute publication. Another example there must be hundreds of a dish once in the national repertoire surviving as a regional oddity. American cookery is full of such fossils transparent tarts and oyster loaves being two conspicuous examples of once popular dishes that in this country we no longer make. in the winter of 198384. It is on the menu of the Old Fire Engine House restaurant in Ely, close to the Fens where eels still flourish. The proprietor, Ann Jarman, told me that she found the recipe in a local Women's Inst.i.tute publication. Another example there must be hundreds of a dish once in the national repertoire surviving as a regional oddity. American cookery is full of such fossils transparent tarts and oyster loaves being two conspicuous examples of once popular dishes that in this country we no longer make.

'Skin clean and bone two Thames eels. Cut them in pieces and chop two small shallots. Pa.s.s the shallots in b.u.t.ter for five minutes, and then add to them a small f.a.ggot of parsley chopped, with nutmeg, pepper, salt and two gla.s.ses of sherry. In the midst of this deposit the eels, add enough water to cover them and set them on the fire to boil. When boiling-point is reached, take out the pieces of eel and arrange them in a pie-dish. In the meantime, add to the sauce two ounces [60 g] of b.u.t.ter kneaded with two ounces [60 g] of flour, and let them incorporate by stirring over the fire. Finish the sauce with the juice of a whole lemon, and pour it over the pieces of eel in the pie-dish. Some slices of hard-boiled egg may be cunningly arranged on the top, and in it amung amung the lower strata. Roof the whole with puff pastry; bake it for an hour. And lo! A pie worthy of Eel-Pie Island. It is a great question debated for ages on Richmond Hill whether this pie is best hot or cold. It is perfect either way.' the lower strata. Roof the whole with puff pastry; bake it for an hour. And lo! A pie worthy of Eel-Pie Island. It is a great question debated for ages on Richmond Hill whether this pie is best hot or cold. It is perfect either way.'

NOTE Use dry or medium-dry sherry or white wine if you prefer it. Put into a hot oven (gas 8, 230 C/450 F), and after about 20 minutes by which time the pastry should be well risen lower the heat to moderate (gas 4, 180 C/350 F). No need to bone the eel: there should be about 1 kg (2 lb). Light fish stock can be used instead of water, and you may not need all the beurre manie to thicken it. Use dry or medium-dry sherry or white wine if you prefer it. Put into a hot oven (gas 8, 230 C/450 F), and after about 20 minutes by which time the pastry should be well risen lower the heat to moderate (gas 4, 180 C/350 F). No need to bone the eel: there should be about 1 kg (2 lb). Light fish stock can be used instead of water, and you may not need all the beurre manie to thicken it.

ITALIAN GRILLED AND BAKED EEL.

Grilled eel is very popular in Italy: bay leaves are used, sometimes a little rosemary. In the north, a dish of Mostarda di Cremona will go with it; this is a mixture of many fruits pickled in a mustard and garlic-flavoured syrup, and exquisite chutney of some antiquity. Montaigne sampled it twice in 1581, near Cremona, on his way back to France. Very good, he said, but omitted to mention what he ate it with. It is usually a relish for meat, poultry and game, but if you can get a jar from an Italian grocery, do try it with eel. A mustard sauce could be subst.i.tuted, but would not have the same enchantment and deliciousness.

Recipes for grilling eel can easily be adapted to the oven. Some friends of ours, who spend the summer at Lake Bracciano to the north of Rome, are able to buy the most enormous fat eels. They cut them into chunks about 5 cm (2 inches) long, and arrange them on a grid in a roasting pan. They are brushed with olive oil, seasoned and topped with a bay leaf for each chunk. The pan goes into a hot oven (gas 5, 190 C/375 F) until the eel is cooked, i.e. when the flesh can be prised easily from the bone. It is essential to place the eel on a grid or rack of some kind, so that the fat can drain away. Serve with lemon quarters, or with the Mostarda di frutta from Cremona.

The apotheosis of eel in Italy is the magnificent Capitone arrost.i.to, one of the ritual dishes of the Christmas Eve dinner, the cenone cenone, the start of the festival. In all Roman Catholic countries, this meal is always margo margo, lean, a fasting meal without meat. Fasting is one of those ideas which puzzle Protestants, they take it to mean going without food (or else eating badly cooked boiled fish on Friday): I remember fellow pupils at school fainting away in the cold church at early communion because they had had nothing but sips of water. To learn that oysters followed by monkfish or lobster is just as virtuous, whereas steak and chips or sausage and mash would be sinful I know which I would rather have any day make Protestants suspicious of the honesty of the Roman Catholics. Or rather it did in the part of the world where I grew up.

Capitone arrost.i.to makes a good excuse for Romans to visit the huge and glittering Piazza Vittorio market to choose a fine fat eel, most probably from the lagoon at Comacchio. For 6 people, you need at least 1 kg (3 lb) or a bit more since it is a feast you are preparing. It needs to be skinned, for elegance.