Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 18

Choose a shallow-sided dish that the salmon will fit into comfortably. Scatter a quarter of the cure over the base. Put in one piece of filleted salmon, skin side down. Sprinkle most of the remaining cure over it, lay the sprigs of fresh dill across and put on the second fillet, skin side up, and with the thick side over the thin side of the fillet below. Sprinkle the rest of the cure over the top. Lay on a piece of foil, then a heavy plate and leave for at least 12 hours, turning the fillet sandwich over once at least. The gravadlax will be good for at least a week, but it will begin to get too salty. It is best eaten within 5 or 6 days, or else drained, wrapped in cling film and put into the freezer.

In any case, gravadlax should be chilled until very firm before slicing, otherwise it can be lumpy and unappetizing. Cut it down in fairly thick slices, or slice it thinly on the diagonal or even parallel to the skin, like smoked salmon.

It can be heated through see the first recipe following. Usually, though, it is served cold or lightly chilled, with strips of the skin dry-fried to a nicely browned crispness. It can make a course on its own, with rye or wholemeal bread or potatoes, or one dish among many on a smorgasbord smorgasbord. The sauce that accompanies it is flavoured with dill, sugar and mustard. I give the Swedish quant.i.ties, but there is no harm done in reducing the sugar: 2 level tablespoons Swedish, German or Dijon mustard2 level teaspoons sugar1 egg yolk (optional)150 ml (5 fl oz) sunflower or or groundnut oil groundnut oil1 generous teaspoon or more chopped dill weedsalt, pepper Mix mustard and sugar with the egg yolk if used. Gradually beat in the oil as if you were making a mayonnaise. Fold in the dill gradually to taste and season.

GRAVADLAX EN PAPILLOTE.

This recipe is based on an idea of Frances Bissell's for cooking salmon with hot potato salad en papillote. With gravadlax, it is extra good.

per person:2 teaspoons b.u.t.ter teaspoon Swedish, German or Dijon mustard23 small new potatoes, cooked, diced1 teaspoon finely chopped shallot teaspoon chopped fresh dill or or pinch of dried dill weed pinch of dried dill weed125 g (4 oz) thinly sliced gravadlax1 tablespoon fish stock*

Preheat the over to gas 5, 190C (375F). Cut a large heart from a sheet of baking parchment or foil. Melt the b.u.t.ter, mix with mustard and brush it over the heart. To one side of centre, make a bed of potato mixed with shallot and dill. Lay the salmon on top, sprinkle with stock and fold the heart over, twisting the edge to make a sealed package. Put on to a baking sheet and give it 10 minutes in the oven. Slide on to a hot plate to serve.

KULEBIAKA OR SALMON PIE.

Fish pie is one of the great dishes of inst.i.tutional catering. Even in middle age, I find it impossible to forget its gluey texture and the smell, the revolting smell which hung, as insistently as the smell of Phallus impudicus Phallus impudicus in an autumn wood, over Friday morning lessons. in an autumn wood, over Friday morning lessons.

So at first I hesitated to try recipes for Kulebiaka (especially some of the more majestic ones containing viziga viziga, which is the dried spinal cord of sturgeons). Then the possibilities of the ingredients conquered prejudice. I found that in this version of the famous Russian fish pie, they blended to a flavour which was both rich and fresh.

Serves 6flaky pastry or or brioche dough, made with 500 g (1 lb) plain flour brioche dough, made with 500 g (1 lb) plain flour750 g (1 lb) filleted salmon or or turbot turbot or or eel eel250 g (8 oz) b.u.t.ter, unsalted250 g (8 oz) chopped shallot or or mild onion mild onion250 g (8 oz) mushrooms, coa.r.s.ely choppedjuice of 1 lemon175 g (6 oz) rice2 teaspoons dried dill weed or or 2 tablespoons fresh dill 2 tablespoons fresh dill4 tablespoons chopped parsleysalt, pepper, nutmeg3 hard-boiled eggs, slicedegg yolk or or cream cream or or top of the milk, for glazing top of the milk, for glazing Make the pastry or dough. While it is chilling, or rising, prepare the filling. Cut the fish into thin slices. Fry briefly until stiff in 4 tablespoons of the b.u.t.ter; the fish should not be cooked through. Melt half the chopped shallot or onion in another 4 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter, without browning them. When they are soft and golden, put in the mushrooms. Stew them for 5 minutes. Stir in the lemon juice and seasoning to taste.

Fry the rest of the onion gently in 2 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter, until it is soft. Add the rice, and stir about until every grain is coated with melted b.u.t.ter. Pour in 450 ml (15 fl oz) of water (or chicken stock, if you have any: but don't use a cube) and leave to cook gently in the usual way. Add more liquid if necessary, and when the rice is soft, remove from the heat and flavour with dill, parsley, salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Take a heavy baking sheet. Roll out half the pastry to an oblong. Put half the rice on to it, leaving a good margin free. The slices of fish go on next, then the slices of hard-boiled eggs and the mushroom mixture. Last of all the rest of the rice. Roll out the remaining pastry to a similar sized oblong. Brush the rim of the pastry, round the filling, with cream, or top of the milk, or egg, and lay the second layer on top. Press down round the rim to seal the pie. Turn over the rim to double it, and nick the edge all round to make sure of a firm seal. Decorate the pie with leaves made from pastry or dough tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and pierce a central hole for the steam to escape. Brush pie and rim over with beaten egg and cream, or a mixture of both. Leave to rest for 30 minutes in a warm place if using brioche dough. Bake in a fairly hot oven (gas 56, 190200C/375400F) for an hour. If the pastry browns quickly, protect it with b.u.t.tered paper. When the pie is ready, have the rest of the unsalted b.u.t.ter melted in a little pan. Pour it through the central hole just before serving: a little more won't come amiss. Serve with a separate jug of melted b.u.t.ter, or, better still, sour cream.

NOTE Kulebiaka could be made with cooked salmon. In this case omit the quick frying in b.u.t.ter. Kulebiaka could be made with cooked salmon. In this case omit the quick frying in b.u.t.ter.

Roasted kasha kasha can be used instead of rice, should you be able to get it. can be used instead of rice, should you be able to get it.

QUICHE DE SAUMON.

Serves 6250 g (8 oz) flaky or or shortcrust pastry shortcrust pastry375 g (12 oz) cooked, flaked salmon2 teaspoons dill weed or or chopped green fennel leaves chopped green fennel leaves2 tablespoons Parmesan2 tablespoons Gruyere or or Cheddar Cheddar2 large eggs, plus 2 egg yolks300 ml (10 fl oz) single or or whipping cream whipping creamsalt, pepper, cayenne Line a 25-cm (10-inch) tart tin, with a removable base, with the pastry. Bake blind in the oven for 15 minutes flaky at hot (gas 7, 220C/425F), and shortcrust at fairly hot (gas 6, 200C/400F).

Spread the salmon evenly over the base. Sprinkle with the herbs and cheese. Beat the eggs and cream together, season well and pour over the salmon mixture. Bake in a fairly hot oven (gas 6, 200C/400F) for 3040 minutes, or until the filling is nicely risen and brown. Serve hot, or warm.

VARIATIONS Instead of salmon and dill weed or fennel, use the following combinations: Instead of salmon and dill weed or fennel, use the following combinations: Tuna with capers or anchovies.

Jugged kipper with 1 tablespoon French mustard, and juice of 1 lemon, squeezed over before serving.

Good white fish with vermouth, Pernod or anisette.

Mixed sh.e.l.lfish. Reduce oyster and mussel liquor to concentrated essence, and add to eggs and cream.

SALMON BAKED IN PASTRY WITH GINGER.

When I wrote Fish Cookery Fish Cookery at the beginning of the seventies, George Perry-Smith, the inventor of this dish, was still high priest at the Hole in the Wall restaurant in Bath (these days it is run by two of his pupils, Sue and Tim c.u.mming). Joyce Molyneux, now at the Carved Angel in Dartmouth, sweetly remonstrated with me when I suggested that frozen salmon could be used. 'We always waited for the best Wye salmon!' And now his other pupils and a.s.sistants, with restaurants of their own in various parts of the country, all make this dish with the best local salmon they can find, as a badge almost of their training. at the beginning of the seventies, George Perry-Smith, the inventor of this dish, was still high priest at the Hole in the Wall restaurant in Bath (these days it is run by two of his pupils, Sue and Tim c.u.mming). Joyce Molyneux, now at the Carved Angel in Dartmouth, sweetly remonstrated with me when I suggested that frozen salmon could be used. 'We always waited for the best Wye salmon!' And now his other pupils and a.s.sistants, with restaurants of their own in various parts of the country, all make this dish with the best local salmon they can find, as a badge almost of their training.

I asked once how the idea of putting ginger with salmon had come about, and was told that some medieval recipe was the source. In fact, a number of medieval fish recipes use ginger powdered ginger, it seems as a seasoning, but no early recipe comes as close as John Nott's in his Cook's and Confectioner's Dictionary Cook's and Confectioner's Dictionary of 1726: 'Scale the salmon, wash and dry him, chine him and season him with salt, pepper, ginger, cloves and mace; lay him on a sheet of paste, and form it in the shape of a salmon, lay in slices of ginger, large mace, and b.u.t.ter upon the fish, and turn up the other half of your sheet of paste on the back, closing them on the belly-side from head to tail, bringing him into proportion with head, fins, gills and tail: scale him, leave a funnel to pour in b.u.t.ter, and when it is baked, set it by to cool.' of 1726: 'Scale the salmon, wash and dry him, chine him and season him with salt, pepper, ginger, cloves and mace; lay him on a sheet of paste, and form it in the shape of a salmon, lay in slices of ginger, large mace, and b.u.t.ter upon the fish, and turn up the other half of your sheet of paste on the back, closing them on the belly-side from head to tail, bringing him into proportion with head, fins, gills and tail: scale him, leave a funnel to pour in b.u.t.ter, and when it is baked, set it by to cool.'

A friend who was preparing the dish for visitors who do not like raisins had the brilliant idea of subst.i.tuting lime. The juice and thin-shredded zest of a lime are added to the b.u.t.ter and ginger: juice and shreds of a second lime are added to melted, skimmed b.u.t.ter to make a sauce. I like this variation very much, lime gives a skip to the substantial delicacy of the dish. Here, though, is the true original version, as sent to me by George Perry-Smith who keeps it on the menu of his Riverside restaurant at Helford in Cornwall.

Serves 611 kg (22 lb) piece of wild salmon, skinned, filletedsalt, pepper125 g (4 oz) b.u.t.ter, lightly salted4 well-drained k.n.o.bs of ginger in syrup, chopped30 g (1 oz) currantsPASTRY500 g (1 lb) plain flour275 g (9 oz) b.u.t.teregg yolk, beaten, to glazeSAUCE600 ml (1 pt) single cream2 egg yolks2 level teaspoons Dijon mustard2 level teaspoons plain flour125 g (4 oz) softened b.u.t.terjuice of 1 lemon small onion, finely chopped1 small bunch each of tarragon, parsley and chervilsalt, pepper Season the two pieces of salmon with salt and pepper on both cut and skinned sides. Mash b.u.t.ter with the ginger and currants. Spread half on the cut side of one fillet: put the second fillet on top, like a sandwich, cut side down, and spread the remaining b.u.t.ter mixture on top.

Make the pastry in the usual way, mixing it with iced water. Roll out and wrap neatly round the salmon, cutting away surplus lumps of pastry. If you are using a small salmon or a tailpiece and are feeling fanciful, you could try John Nott's idea of making it look like a pastry fish, marking scales, etc. with the tip of a sharp knife. Brush with egg yolk. Chill until just before the meal.

Preheat the oven to gas 8, 230C (450F). Bake for about 30 minutes time will depend on the thickness of the salmon. Test it after 20 minutes with a skewer. By this time a tailpiece may be done.

To make the sauce, whirl the ingredients in a blender. Cook in a double saucepan, stirring, until thickened. Serve a cuc.u.mber salad as well.

SALMON b.u.t.tERFLY GRILL.

In most trades cooking, the law, plumbing, medicine people plod along steadily, taking the day as it comes, thankful to be paid for doing what they would be happy to do unpaid if they had the means of survival. Occasionally, though, some bit of information, some discovery changes the shape of the trivial round, giving it a new aspect. Perhaps because I never had any training as a cook, this happens to me with a particular force once or even twice a year if I am lucky. As far as fish is concerned, the discoveries often seem to be concerned with salmon they can often then be applied to other fish, sea ba.s.s for instance.

The first was when we visited a friend in Denmark, in 1966, and she gave us gravadlax, and the recipe, which went into the Observer Observer four years later, and into four years later, and into Good Things Good Things. The second came from a home economist connected with fish cookery who told me how to cook whole salmon by bringing it to the boil, then removing the whole thing from the stove, so that the fish could continue to cook in the water as it cooled. A third came from Helen Burke who many years ago pointed out that when grilling salmon steaks, there is no need to turn them over. And the fourth this recipe from a friend in Aix-en-Provence, a brilliant cook disclosed a foolproof method of grilling whole farmed salmon, or large pieces of salmon, which minimizes its faults of softness and leaves one in complete control. I should also say that it is now my preferred way of cooking farm salmon for eating cold later on: the svelte silver appearance of a whole poached fish is lost, and perhaps it should be kept only for the finest wild salmon, but the flavour and consistency is much improved.

The presentation can be less cuc.u.mbered, less finicky, to emphasize the difference.

Serves 612 kg (34 lb) salmon or or salmon trout salmon troutsalt, pepperlemon juice ( (optional, see recipe recipe)oilSAUCEolive oil vinaigrette*plenty of chopped parsley and basil or or chervil chervil or or tarragon tarragonfinely chopped red onion or or shallot shallotcapersanchoviesolives Scale the fish, cut off the head and tail. Clean out the cavity without slitting the belly, using salt to rub away stubborn traces of blood. Cut away the fins and slit down the back, keeping closely to the bone, until the salmon lies flat in a b.u.t.terfly-shaped wedge. Cut away the bone. Season the fish all over on the cut side, and if you like sprinkle it with lemon juice or other form of marinade. Leave for 30 minutes, longer if you like.

Switch on the grill to maximum and make sure it is very hot. Cover the rack of the grill pan with foil, making a nest for the fish. Brush it over with oil. Put the salmon on to the foil, cut side down, skin up. Slide it under the grill and leave for 4 minutes. The skin should be nicely browned and blistered. Turn the salmon over on to a warmed serving dish of a kind that can stand up to heat. Remove the foil from the rack and put the dish on top. Slide it under the grill, switch off the grill and leave the salmon to complete its cooking in the declining heat. It will lose its transparent look and turn milky; investigate with the point of a knife to see how much longer is required for the salmon to become firm all through. It should lose its rawness, but never gain that dry chalky pink look of overdone salmon.

Serve on very hot plates with a vinaigrette sauce that has been embellished by herbs, onion or shallot, and chopped pickles to taste. In the season, asparagus and hollandaise* or mayonnaise* are good accompaniments to the salmon, whether it is hot, warm or cold. Samphire makes another good companion, or new potatoes and laverbread heated up with orange juice and a squeeze of lemon. Since you are dealing with a fish that becomes more and more buyable, and less exquisite sometimes in the process, try experimenting a little: mild purees of sweet red or yellow pepper, or of Jerusalem artichokes with a light chopping of toasted hazelnuts. A redcurrant sauce, or cranberries, or even plums to give a sharp contrast.

SALMON HEAD SOUP.

The heads of large fish make the cheapest of fine soups, with the bonus of extra sweet pickings from the cheeks and under the jaw for the final garnishing. This is my basic recipe, since all the other ingredients are usually to hand. If I happen to be out of white wine, I use dry white vermouth or dry sherry, or a fine vinegar with a little sugar. If there is a head of fennel, that might go into the pot instead of carrot. If the rest of the meal is on the frugal side, cream or yoghurt or fromage frais or a lump of unsalted b.u.t.ter will make the soup a little richer.

Serves 41 salmon head500 g (1 lb) bones from filleting flounders and white fish3 tablespoons pudding rice, tied loosely into a muslin bag1 onion, quartered1 medium carrot, sliced1 large tomato, cut up2 cloves garlicbouquet garni250 ml (8 fl oz) dry white winesalt, pepper, sugarsprigs of chervil or or sorrel leaves, as garnish sorrel leaves, as garnish Put the salmon head and bones into a large pan. Suspend the bag of rice from the pan handle so that it lies well down. Put in the vegetables, garlic and bouquet with the wine and enough water to cover all the ingredients comfortably. Bring the pan to the boil, then adjust the heat to keep the liquid simmering for 45 minutes. When the head is cooked, remove it and extract the nice pink bits of salmon. Set these on one side. Put the bony parts back into the pan as you work.

Strain off the liquid. You need a little under 1 litre (32 fl oz). If there is too much, boil it down. Blend or process most of the rice with the liquid. Aim for a smooth texture with a light agreeable graininess on the tongue: with some processors, you may feel the need to put the soup through a fine sieve afterwards.

Put the soup back into the rinsed out pan, with the last of the rice, the flakes of cooked salmon and seasoning to taste. Reheat to a bare simmer and serve with sprigs of chervil, or the sorrel leaves rolled up and cut across so that they fall into a chiffonade of ribbons which will cook instantly in the heat of the soup.

SALMON MOUSSE.

Serves 6250 g (8 oz) cooked salmon, free of skin and bone5 tablespoons good fish or beef stock, very hot15 g ( oz) gelatine2 teaspoons wine vinegar or or lemon juice lemon juice1 tablespoon brandy, dry sherry or or dry vermouth dry vermouth2 tablespoons grated Parmesansalt, pepper, cayenne300 ml (10 fl oz) creme fraiche or or whipping cream whipping cream2 egg whites Flake the salmon. In a liquidizer or processor, whizz the hot stock and gelatine, then add the fish gradually, plus the various liquids, cheese and seasonings to taste. Whip the cream until stiff and fold in the salmon mixture. Put in a cool place until almost set, but just loose enough to stir. Taste again for seasoning. Beat the whites to soft peaks and fold into the salmon. Turn into a souffle dish. Serve with a cuc.u.mber salad.

VARIATIONS A proportion of smoked salmon can be subst.i.tuted for up to half of the cooked salmon a good way to make use of the cheap bits and pieces left over from slicing a side. A proportion of smoked salmon can be subst.i.tuted for up to half of the cooked salmon a good way to make use of the cheap bits and pieces left over from slicing a side.

SALMON SOUFFLe.

Since I've adopted the system of baking souffles in a shallow dish which I learned from Alice Waters I make them much more often. They have an open golden bubbly look, and the inside is creamy enough to provide its own sauce. Another thing she taught me is not to be afraid of using quite a lot of cheese to make the general flavour much more savoury.

Serves 6250 g (8 oz) cooked salmon, free of bone and skinsalt, pepper125 g (4 oz) b.u.t.ter5 tablespoons plain flour300 ml (10 fl oz) each single cream and milk, heated togethercayenne, ground mace1 tablespoon tomato concentrate (optional)5 egg yolks60 g (2 oz) Gruyere or or Gouda, grated Gouda, grated60 g (2 oz) Parmesan, grated6 egg whites Flake the salmon, breaking it up as much as possible, and season it. Use a quarter of the b.u.t.ter to grease a shallow oval gratin dish, at least 30 cm (12 inches) long.

Melt the rest of the b.u.t.ter, stir in the flour to make a roux. Then moisten gradually with the cream and milk. Add salt, pepper, cayenne and mace. Simmer half-covered for at least half an hour, stirring occasionally: this can be done in a bain-marie for an hour with even better results. Remove the pan from the heat, stir in the salmon and tomato, if used, and then the egg yolks when the mixture has cooled down a little. Add the Gruyere or Gouda and about half the Parmesan. Taste and adjust the seasoning, bearing in mind the softening effect the whites will have.

Beat the whites until stiff, mix a good tablespoon into the salmon mixture to slacken it, then fold in the rest. Spread into the b.u.t.tered dish lightly and evenly. Scatter with the remaining Parmesan.

Bake in the oven preheated to gas 8, 230C (450F), on the top shelf, for 12 to 15 minutes, or until nicely browned on top but still a little wobbly underneath the crust in the centre.

SALMON STEAKS IN CREAM.

I owe this deliciously simple recipe to Mrs Charlotte Sawyer, of Woodsville, New Hampshire. It could equally well be used for cod steaks, or slices of angler-fish, or porbeagle (Blue Dod, as it is sometimes called in North America); but it is particularly good for the dryness of salmon. The ingredients may sound expensive, but they aren't really as they include the sauce for the fish. Some new potatoes are all that is needed to accompany the salmon.

Serves 66 thick salmon steakssalt, pepperb.u.t.ter300 ml (10 fl oz) single cream or or creme fraiche creme fraiche1 bay leaf6 lemon quarters Season the salmon steaks well with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Choose an oven dish into which the steaks will fit closely in one layer, without being jammed tightly together. b.u.t.ter the dish lavishly, then put in the steaks and enough cream to cover them well. Tuck in a small bay leaf, and bake in a fairly hot oven (gas 5, 190C/ 375F) for 2025 minutes, until the steaks are cooked. Baste them once or twice with the cream, adding more if it reduces enough to leave the surface of the salmon much exposed. Serve with lemon quarters, in case people like to sharpen the sauce a little.

SALMON TARTARE.

It seems to have been the Minch.e.l.li brothers, or rather Paul Minch.e.l.li who is the chef, who introduced the French to the pleasures of gravadlax and sashimi and seviche. Since they are natives of the Ile de Re, where they opened their first restaurant in 1963, they grew up taking the freshness of fish for granted. And to serve fish raw, or cooked purely by salt or lemon juice, it must be of top quality. 'Our rules, our three unities, are draconian,' says Jean Minch.e.l.li, 'The fish must just be caught, its preparation must be simple and it must be eaten the same day. In our restaurants there are no left-overs and no deep-freeze... What is not sold at the end of the day is eaten by us, or given or thrown away.' Nowadays they have restaurants in Paris, in the Boulevard Raspail, and in the Seych.e.l.les.

I suppose that Paul Minch.e.l.li turned to the idea of steak tartare for this particular dish, an idea that is well within the French tradition, and a t.i.tle that would not frighten his clients. This treatment can be used for sea ba.s.s, scallops, very fine pale tuna and swordfish almost any fish that is truly fresh is delicious served in this way. Keep the quant.i.ties small. Sometimes salmon tartare comes in teaspoonsful in tiny pastry cases with an aperitif. More usually it will be nested in salad greenery: steamed samphire tips (p. 83) are a natural companion.

Allow 125 g (4 oz) fresh salmon per person. Dice it as evenly as you can, after cutting away the skin and bone, then chop it coa.r.s.ely. The pieces should end up about the size of tiny pet.i.ts pois, a chopped rather than a mashed effect. Add just enough of the sauce tartare on p. 41 p. 41 to bind the mixture lightly you should really not be aware of the sauce as you are, for instance, with a cooked salmon mayonnaise or a Russian salad of vegetables. The point of it is to get the seasonings mixed evenly through the fish and bind the mixture so that it can be piled up a little. to bind the mixture lightly you should really not be aware of the sauce as you are, for instance, with a cooked salmon mayonnaise or a Russian salad of vegetables. The point of it is to get the seasonings mixed evenly through the fish and bind the mixture so that it can be piled up a little.

SALMON WITH WATERCRESS AND CHIVE b.u.t.tER SAUCE (Le saumon a la tombee de cresson et au beurre de ciboulette) This is an example of the light cooking of Bernard Loiseau at the Cote d'Or at Saulieu in Burgundy. No elaborate stocks are used in his kitchen, or simple ones either, but water. This makes some colleagues raise their eyebrows. It also makes the sauces tricky to handle. You need to practise. If they overheat, they separate and turn oily.

Lesser cooks than Monsieur Loiseau may perhaps be forgiven if they beat a failed sauce into a couple of egg yolks, as if they were making a version of an hollandaise*. The method of cooking the salmon, though, is easily mastered and it can be used for other fish.

Serves 4500 g (1 lb) piece of long salmon filletsalt, pepper1 large bunch of chives, chopped125 g (4 oz) unsalted b.u.t.terleaves from 2 large bunches of watercressolive oillemon juice Lay the salmon skin side down on a board and slice it diagonally into 4 escalopes of roughly equal size. Season them with salt and pepper. Discard the skin.

Process the chives with three-quarters of the b.u.t.ter: it should be very thick with the green, much more than for normal chive b.u.t.ter. Chill well.

Cook the cress leaves in a little water with the remaining b.u.t.ter, salt and pepper. Drain when tender, dry on kitchen paper and keep hot.

Warm a non-stick frying pan until fairly hot. Quickly dip the salmon pieces in olive oil on both sides and put in the pan. Cook gently, without turning them without turning them, on one side only. This prevents overcooking. There will be a gradation of effect from opaque next to the pan, to a slight translucency on top. Dry on kitchen paper and arrange on four warm plates with some of the cress.

While the salmon cooks, make the sauce. Bring 125 ml (4 fl oz) water to the boil in a small wide pan. Whisk in the chive b.u.t.ter, bit by bit, raising the pan from the heat so that you end up with an emulsified sauce (beurre blanc technique). Season with salt, pepper and lemon. Pour round the salmon, and serve.

SMOKED SALMON.

'These days there's a salmon smoker behind every hedge,' as one producer remarked the other day. I was asking him about the difference between the Scotch and London smoked salmon, in the old days, before things became so confused. He said that the curers in the north, having been used to dealing with kippers and haddock and such, were too heavy-handed with the smoke for such a delicate fish. And so Jewish fishmongers in London started producing it in their own smoke houses, but clean air acts closed them down over the last twenty-five years. Now there is no precise territorial difference, every smoker follows his own taste. And the result will also depend on whether he uses one of the enclosed stainless steel Torry smokers or has made himself a smoke hole.

My own favourite smoked salmon I have bought by post from Ritchie's on the Isle of Bute for many years now. In 1987, being up in those parts, we thought it would be an amiable detour to visit the brothers who had been so friendly at the other end of a telephone for the best part of fifteen years. We were directed to a tiny fishmonger's shop in a side street. n.o.body there. I coughed discreetly and moved over to a door at the left where the most amazing sight, a fleet of wild salmon, covered the floor of a long narrow room. At the end were the mahogany-coloured walls of the brick-built smoke holes. And just about to begin work, slitting, cleaning, curing, were the tall brothers calmly surveying the labours of the week ahead. All the same, they had time to stop and talk, to show me the tenterhooks on which the sides of salmon hang, taking on flavour from the cool smoke of smouldering sawdust on the floor below.

From this plain, humble-looking place, untouched it seems since the time of the First World War when their fathers built it, comes some of the finest smoked salmon you can ever hope to eat, as delicate as any London cure. The other day I heard about the largest smoke hole in existence, Skarl's of Brooklyn, where there is room for thousands of salmon sides, with ladders and terraces and walkways. There, too, the cure is delicate. Which all goes to show, there is no rule in the matter as far as size is concerned: in the end, it is the taste of the producer that counts.

If you are ever in the happy position of catching enough salmon to spare some for smoking, I suggest you first consult a good book on the subject. You can buy smokers small enough for home curing, too, by which I do not mean the little metal boxes large enough for a few trout, but the Torry Mini Kiln which has a maximum capacity of 25 kg (56 lb) (marketed by Afos Ltd, Anlaby, Hull, North Humberside). The old home method was to convert a barrel, but you will do far better to build something more convenient. Various designs are given in Home Smoking and Curing Home Smoking and Curing, by Keith Erlandson, an excellent book with cures and recipes and such cogent advice as 'Do not let your ducks catch fire.'

When it comes to heating smoked salmon, you would do best to leave first-quality salmon alone: serve it with wheatmeal or wholemeal bread and b.u.t.ter and be thankful. Some people like lemon wedges so that they can squeeze a few drops over the salmon. Second-quality smoked salmon is just right for adding to scrambled eggs, or wrapping round a cold soft-cooked egg which can be steadied on a circle of bread and b.u.t.ter a Wiltshire restaurateur, Christopher Snow, added a thick sauce of smoked cod's roe beaten up with some cream to smooth down the flavour.

For adding to tarts, or making small quant.i.ties of salmon rillettes, buy the odd bits and pieces and chunks left over from slicing a whole salmon side. When I first wrote Fish Cookery Fish Cookery, these off-cuts were almost cheap. Now everyone is wise to this particular dodge, and prices have gone up accordingly. A pity, since they are ideal for giving a lift to cold fresh salmon when you are making a mousse (see above), or for pounding with b.u.t.ter or cream or mixing into mayonnaise, to enliven sandwiches, pancakes, baked potatoes and salads of poached white fish. You can make a mild salmon paste by pounding 175 g (6 oz) smoked salmon and adding it to 125 g (4 oz) ricotta cheese and 150 ml (5 fl oz) thick whipped cream: season with pepper and lemon juice. One of Albert Roux's most famous dishes at the Gavroche is a mousse of smoked salmon with cream and fish aspic wrapped in an envelope of smoked salmon like a little cushion, Papillote Claudine. above), or for pounding with b.u.t.ter or cream or mixing into mayonnaise, to enliven sandwiches, pancakes, baked potatoes and salads of poached white fish. You can make a mild salmon paste by pounding 175 g (6 oz) smoked salmon and adding it to 125 g (4 oz) ricotta cheese and 150 ml (5 fl oz) thick whipped cream: season with pepper and lemon juice. One of Albert Roux's most famous dishes at the Gavroche is a mousse of smoked salmon with cream and fish aspic wrapped in an envelope of smoked salmon like a little cushion, Papillote Claudine.

There is no end to the ingenuity of it all. But when all is said and done, it is not the ingenuity of chefs that is important, but the skill of the smoker and the fun of finding the smoked salmon that you like best.

SMOKED SALMON b.u.t.tER.

Pound 125 g (4 oz) smoked salmon tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs with 125 g (4 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter.

SALMON RILLETTES.

Rillettes is the name given to potted pork in France. Chunks of meat are cooked slowly for a long time, then reduced to a thready ma.s.s and stored in stoneware pots under a covering of lard. Every household in Touraine, Anjou and Brittany has rillettes in the refrigerator for snacks and easy first courses. The name has been taken up by chefs working in the new style and applied to salmon, potted salmon in effect, although long cooking and long preservation is the last thing they have in mind. Here are two versions: ANNE W WILLAN.

Serves 8 Poach a 500 g (1 lb) piece of salmon in a white wine fumet*, without added salt. Cool and shred with a fork, discarding skin and bone first.

Melt 2 tablespoons b.u.t.ter in a saute pan with a tablespoon of water. Put in a piece of smoked salmon, weighing 375 g (12 oz). Cover and cook for 3 minutes, or until no longer transparent. Cool and shred.

Mix the salmons and beat in 350 g (11 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter, which has been softened and creamed. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Pack into eight small terrines or one large one. Serve as a first course, well chilled, with toast or bread.

This potted salmon, which is very close to the English style of potted fish, can be kept for up to a week in the refrigerator under a layer of clarified b.u.t.ter.

PAUL M MINCh.e.l.lI.

Serves 46 Remove the skin and bone from a 400 g (14 oz) piece of fresh salmon. Slice and chop it coa.r.s.ely. Do the same thing with a similar sized piece of smoked salmon. Remove the fine skin from 175 g (6 oz) smoked cod's roe, mash the roe and add a couple of tablespoons of creme fraiche, 2 teaspoons of cognac and 2 teaspoons green peppercorns. Mix everything together, sharpening to taste with lime juice. Serve chilled with toast, with an aperitif or as a first course.

SALMON TROUT see see SALMON SALMON SAND-EEL see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... SAND-EEL SAND-EEL SAND-LANCE see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... SAND-EEL SAND-EEL

SARDINES & PILCHARDS Sardina pilchardus [image]

It irritates me to see fresh sardines on sale presented as an exotic fish (at an exotic price) for the travelled and knowing customer, when they are really no more than infant pilchards. It irritates me even more to see pilchards in tomato sauce, can upon can of this rather coa.r.s.e confection, in the shops and never a fresh pilchard at the fishmonger's. In 1985, I think, there was a brief hooray, pilchards were on the increase off the Cornish coast, but I suppose the canners or the Cornish got in first. The little paragraph that had appeared in The Guardian The Guardian was filed, and that was the last we saw of pilchards. was filed, and that was the last we saw of pilchards.

Sardines are too young and tender to swim up into our bracing waters. Although they do support the business of freezing quite well, they never taste as good in Britain as they do on summer nights further south, when the air is warm. They are part of the holiday nostalgia that recalls their appetizing smell when they are grilled out of doors and eaten with bread and b.u.t.ter, a squeeze of lemon, and several gla.s.ses of white wine, whilst forgetting the mosquitoes and the sunburn and (other people's) grizzling children. To cook sardine recipes in this country, you will do better to subst.i.tute small herring or large sprats if they are fresh.

Pilchards have always been a Cornish speciality, swimming to their northern limit at one time in great shoals, leaving the younger sardines behind.

'The least fish in bigness, greatest for gain, and most in number is the pilchard,' says Richard Carew, in his Survey of Cornwall Survey of Cornwall (he became High Sheriff of Cornwall in 1586). The picturesque fishery of Elizabethan times that he described continued unchanged until the beginning of this century. It was quite as exciting as the Mediterranean fishing of sardines and anchovies, which takes place more romantically for the spectator at least in darkness, with the aid of flaring lamps which attract the fish. (he became High Sheriff of Cornwall in 1586). The picturesque fishery of Elizabethan times that he described continued unchanged until the beginning of this century. It was quite as exciting as the Mediterranean fishing of sardines and anchovies, which takes place more romantically for the spectator at least in darkness, with the aid of flaring lamps which attract the fish.

When the shoals were expected, 'between harvest and Allhallowtide', boats with seine nets would 'lie hovering upon the coast'. The masters turned their eyes towards a man stationed on the cliffs, sometimes in a special tower or towered house like the one at Newquay. This was the Huer. It was his job to direct the boats when he saw the dark red shadow approaching, by making a hue and cry with a loud voice, 'whistling through his fingers, and wheazing certain diversified and significant signs with a bush which he holdeth in his hand. At his appointment they cast out their net, draw it to either hands as the shoal lieth or fareth, beat with their oars to keep in the fish, and at last either close and tuck it up in the sea, or draw the same on land with more certain profit, if the ground be not rough of rocks.' There would be several waves of boats, each with their seine nets drawn round as much of the shoal as possible. On sh.o.r.e the country people waited with their horses and baskets; so did the merchants who would 'greedily and speedily' seize the major part of the catch.

Daniel Defoe describes the general excitement in Dartmouth in 1720 when a shoal was sighted 'the town was all in a kind of an uproar' and the dinner of fresh pilchards, grilled simply with pepper and salt, that cost the whole party no more than three farthings.

When my husband was a child at the beginning of the century, pilchards were brought round to the village near Looe by a man with a cartload of spanking fresh fish, but the main concern had for centuries been the export trade. Pilchards would be salted and pressed and barrelled for France, or salted and smoked for hotter countries like Italy and Spain. Local people would pickle the fish in rather different ways for their own use. They might bake them in a marinade of spiced vinegar like the soused herring on p. 201 p. 201. For more immediate use, some of them were split and hung up in the open air to dry for a couple of days like the wind-dried and rizzered haddock of Scotland (p. 149). With a nice skill in judging weather and humidity, the fish would be taken down 'in the very nick of time' and put in pairs, skin sides out, on a gridiron over the fire, to roast or 'scrowl'. The insides were well peppered first, just as Defoe ate them.

I am a little suspicious of the first recipe, perhaps unfairly, but am keeping it in the book because it tastes good.

HOW TO PREPARE SARDINES AND PILCHARDS.

As for herring. Some people do not clean out sardines before they grill them, and indeed it can be a fiddly job unless you are good with a hairpin or the point of a small knife at hooking the guts out through the gills. They look raggedy if you slit them with a knife to clean them: scissors do a neater job, but even so they are rarely tidy.

Pilchards, being larger, are easier, and I recommend the idea of splitting them remove the backbone if you can seasoning them and sandwiching them, skin side out, before they go on the grill. You can also spread the inside with b.u.t.ter, flavoured in some way or plain. Sardines can be treated in the same manner. Another alternative is to marinade the fish in roughly equal quant.i.ties of oil and lemon juice, with finely chopped garlic, parsley and salt.

Those with strong digestions may enjoy sardine fritters. For obvious reasons, you should bone the fish and discard the heads, then you can marinade and pair them up before dipping them in batter. This kind of food needs to be eaten straight from the pan while the batter is crisp: plenty of bread and a gla.s.s of white wine is also a good idea.

For myself, I stick with sardines grilled simply. Or else dry-fried in a heavy non-stick pan: rub the surface over with kitchen paper dipped in a little oil, heat the pan and put in the sardines. When one side is brown and crusty, turn them over. This is next best to sardines grilled over charcoal.

SARDINE WARBLERS (Sarde a beccafico) This is most savoury and appetizing dish from Palermo in Sicily. Its sweet-sour mixture of ingredients pine kernels, sultanas, anchovies and lemon juice echoes ancient and modern dishes from the Arab world. This isn't surprising as Sicily belonged to the Saracens from the beginning of the ninth century until the end of the eleventh century, when the Normans arrived. Even then Muslim culture wasn't wiped out, but continued to flourish under the benign influence of Roger II, King of Sicily. I like to think of tough Normans encountering the delights of sherbet and of dishes like this one, then taking the recipes back home to their families beyond the Alps. Such mixtures as this are the background to mincemeat and plum porridges, in which dried fruits were mixed sometimes with meat, sometimes with herrings. (One must admit that the hands of northern cooks were cruder and heavier in their enthusiastic gallimaufries.) Beccafico is the Italian word for a warbler. It refers to the shape of the stuffed sardines, tucked side by side in the baking dish like a row of little birds. is the Italian word for a warbler. It refers to the shape of the stuffed sardines, tucked side by side in the baking dish like a row of little birds.