Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 25

Left-over turbot can be turned into an honourable dish. Mrs Beeton has an excellent way with it, very simple. She made a cream and b.u.t.ter sauce* you melt 125 g (4 oz) of unsalted b.u.t.ter in a shallow pan, then stir in 175 ml (6 fl oz) of the thickest cream you can find, preferably Jersey. This makes a thick unctuous sauce to which seasoning can be added, and in which the flaked turbot about 375 g (12 oz) is briefly reheated.

The mixture is then used to fill split oblongs of puff pastry, or vol-au-vent cases, or shortcrust tartlets. Another way is to divide it between little pots, one per person, and tuck in triangles of toast. Sprinkle on top a little cayenne, or some chopped green herbs.

TURBOT AU POIVRE.

Since I first wrote Fish Cookery, steak au poivre Fish Cookery, steak au poivre has had its moment of glory and mostly disappeared, but I find that visitors much enjoy fish cooked in the same way. It seemed original and attractive in 1971 and it still seems original now, although one or two writers have copied it from me. But then I had the idea from an obscure French source, so perhaps I should not complain that they make no acknowledgement! has had its moment of glory and mostly disappeared, but I find that visitors much enjoy fish cooked in the same way. It seemed original and attractive in 1971 and it still seems original now, although one or two writers have copied it from me. But then I had the idea from an obscure French source, so perhaps I should not complain that they make no acknowledgement!

The recipe is easily adapted to halibut, monkfish, even cod and its relations. The thing is that you must have a steak, i.e. a slice cut across a fish, and not a piece of fillet, so that the pepperiness can penetrate the fish.

Serves 66 turbot steaks, about 2 cm (just under 1 inch) thicksalt6 tablespoons black peppercorns2 tablespoons plain flour1 tablespoon sunflower oil125 g (4 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter4 tablespoons brandy4 tablespoons port175 ml (6 fl oz) light beef or veal or chicken stock125 ml (4 fl oz) creme fraiche or or double cream double cream Salt the fish steaks. Crush the peppercorns coa.r.s.ely, using an electric mill, and mix them with the flour. Dry the fish and press the pepper mixture into both sides of each steak. Brown them lightly in the oil plus half the b.u.t.ter, on both sides. Flame them with brandy and deglaze with port, then the stock. Remove the fish when it is just cooked, and keep warm in a low oven.

Boil down the pan juices slightly, stir in the cream and continue to reduce until the sauce is rich and thick. Check the saltiness, put in the remaining b.u.t.ter in bits and strain round the fish. Serve very hot, on hot plates, with small boiled potatoes.

Some people like to eat the peppery coating, but others will prefer to remove most of it to one side.

This is one of the best fish recipes.

TURBOT SALAD.

Cut or flake cooked turbot neatly and put it into a dish. Make an olive oil and lemon vinaigrette*, flavoured with chopped parsley, tarragon or chervil, and chives, a few capers, and 23 chopped anchovy fillets. Pour over the fish and leave it for at least 4 hours. Scatter with chopped hard-boiled egg, or put half-slices of hard-boiled egg round the edge.

Sh.e.l.lfish can be added to extend the salad, mussels, or shrimps, or crab. Mayonnaise* and similar oil-based sauces or sauces of the rouille* or romesco* type are also a good idea with cold turbot.

TURBOT VALLeE D'AUGE It may seem odd to cook fish with fruit, but it does enchance the natural sweetness of the fish. And apple also makes a good marriage with onion flavourings such as leek. In Normandy they might well use Calville or reinette apples: here you might choose a Charles Ross or a Newton Wonder, varieties which lie between the dessert and cooker categories, or an aromatic c.o.x. This recipe is particularly worth trying with brill as well as turbot.

Serves 4white part of 1 large leek, trimmed, sliced2 apples, peeled, cored, slicedsalt, pepper11 kg (2-3 lb) turbot300 ml (10 fl oz) dry cider or or white wine white wine300 ml (10 fl oz) fish stock*175 ml (6 fl oz) creme fraiche or or double cream double creamb.u.t.ter, about 125 g (4 oz)250 g (8 oz) small mushroomslemon juice Heat the oven to gas 7, 220C (425F).

Choose a dish into which the turbot will fit closely and b.u.t.ter it. Scatter over it the leek and apple. Season lightly. Score the dark side of the turbot along the lateral line, through to the bone and put it into the dish, dark side down. Pour on the cider or wine and enough stock barely to cover the fish: lay a b.u.t.ter paper on top.

Bring to simmering point on top of the stove, using a heat-diffuser mat if need be. Then transfer to the oven and leave until the turbot is just cooked start checking after 20 minutes. Remove the fish to a hot serving plate and keep warm.

Strain the cooking liquor into a shallow pan, pressing the juices through. Add any stock you did not use. Reduce by half. Whisk in the cream, reduce again, and finish with 46 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter. Season to taste. Meanwhile cook the mushrooms in a little b.u.t.ter, squeezing a little lemon juice over them to keep them white. Season them.

Put the mushrooms round the turbot, and serve the sauce in a separate sauceboat.

TURBOT WITH LOBSTER OR SHRIMP SAUCE.

Here is one of the great dishes of English cookery, one that n.o.body ever sneered at. It is an example of the dictum that the finer the fish, the less you should do to it. To keep their end up, chefs devised a way of decorating it with an outline scallop of lobster eggs which is fun to do, but unnecessary unless you have to prove genius in lieu of hard work.

If lobster is too difficult to find, and shrimp seems too ordinary; try an oyster sauce instead, p. 263 p. 263. If sh.e.l.lfish is your allergy, remember that Thackeray who knew a great deal about food liked turbot best with plain melted b.u.t.ter.

Serves 41 chicken turbot, weighing about 1 kg (3 lb) lemon, slicedmilk (optional)white wine vinegar (optional)saltSAUCE1 small hen lobster, boiled, complete with eggs or or 250 ml (8 fl oz) sh.e.l.led shrimps or prawns, a hard-boiled egg and some chopped parsley 250 ml (8 fl oz) sh.e.l.led shrimps or prawns, a hard-boiled egg and some chopped parsley leek or or medium-sized onion, sliced medium-sized onion, sliced1 stalk celery, slicedfish stock* (see recipe recipe)125 g (4 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter2 teaspoons plain floursalt, pepper, cayenne The fishmonger will have cleaned the turbot, but you will find it a help with evenness of cooking if you score deeply through the dark skin, through to the bone.

Next take a piece of paper, roughly the size of the turbot and well within it, draw the shape of a scallop sh.e.l.l try and make this reasonably graceful not like a petrol station sign. Carefully cut out this outline and a few ribs to make a stencil: this you need for the final garnishing.

The next job is the stock for the sauce. Put the lobster or shrimp sh.e.l.ls and debris into a pan. Cover completely with water, add leek or onion and celery and simmer for 40 minutes: if you happen to have plain fish stock handy in the freezer, use this instead of the water, but it is not essential.

Strain off the liquid and reduce it to 175 ml (6 fl oz). Put the softer sh.e.l.ls hot into the processor with the b.u.t.ter and whizz them to a sludge-like state. Push what you can of this sludge through a fine sieve: you should end up with a quant.i.ty of lobster or shrimp b.u.t.ter roughly equal to the amount you put into the processor.

Mix the flour with a little cold water in a small heavy pan. Heat gently while you stir, so that the liquid thickens without coming to the boil or even close to it. Take the pan from the heat and stir in the sh.e.l.lfish b.u.t.ter. When the turbot is dished up and ready to serve, put the pan back on the heat and continue to stir until you feel the weight of the sauce against the spoon. Taste it, correct the seasoning, add cayenne, then the lobster cut up or shrimps or prawns.

Returning to the turbot, put it into a pan that will hold it in reasonable comfort. If you antic.i.p.ate problems removing it to a serving dish later on, slip a wide band of double foil underneath. Put in the lemon slices, the milk or a good splash of white wine vinegar, then enough cold water to cover the fish. Add plenty of salt: if you do not intend to keep the cooking liquor, make it very salty indeed.

Bring or as one authority said, lead the liquid to the boil and then stop the boiling at once, maintaining the temperature at just below boiling point until the fish is done. Look after 8 minutes where you made the underneath cut, to see how things are going. You will then be able to judge how much longer will be needed.

Slide the turbot on to its warm dish. Put the stencil on top and scatter it with the sieved lobster eggs, or hard-boiled egg and parsley. Decorate with little bunches of parsley, tucked underneath. Carefully raise the stencil so as not to disturb the elegant scallop. Serve with the sauce in a separate bowl or sauceboat.

TURBOT WITH MUSHROOM RAGO[image]T We were standing dejectedly, one Wednesday afternoon, by the fish stall at Montoire market, comparing the size of the turbot in front of us with the size of my largest frying pan. Madame Soares clumped up to us briskly in her Wellington boots. 'Don't worry. I'll cut you a beautiful fillet. And I'll give you a recipe. Extra Extra!' In Madame Soares' hands, we are as spineless as squid; she treats us like gentle barbarians who need to be shown the light, and to be pushed a little for their own good. We watched her remove a large section from the majestic creature, then shape two pieces from it of exactly the right size. 'Now,' she said, leaning forward earnestly, 'this is what you do...'

That scene took place, alas, over twenty years ago. Madame Soares retired a few years later and comes no more to market in Montoire. The fish stall now is poor by comparison with those days. You have excellent service, but no good advice, although the friendliness is unabated. The French are feeling the pinch so choice and freshness are not quite what they were, although still remarkable by British standards. To be sure of something special we have to go to Vendome, where Jacky Soares, the son, sells good fish, or to Tours where in the covered market at the first stall on the right you can choose from between eighty-five and a hundred kinds of fish, sh.e.l.lfish and cured fish.

Serves 66 pieces of turbot filletsalt, pepperturbot bones175 g (6 oz) unsalted b.u.t.ter375 g (12 oz) trimmed mushrooms, sliced, woodland mushrooms or cultivated or or the two mixed the two mixed1 clove garlic, finely chopped6 tablespoons creme fraiche (see (see recipe recipe)chopped parsleyseasoned flour Season the turbot with salt and pepper. Use the bones to make a little fish stock*, with the usual aromatics: you will need about 250 ml (8 fl oz). Clarify half the b.u.t.ter.

Melt the rest of the b.u.t.ter in a saute pan and cook the mushrooms with the garlic. If they are the cultivated kind, cover the pan to conserve the juice at the start. Moisten the mushrooms with a little of the stock as they cook, adding more as the liquid reduces. Add seasoning and keep tasting. Add cream gradually to taste you may not need it all. The point is that different kinds of mushroom produce different quant.i.ties of liquid as they cook. This means adding more or less stock as you go. Be guided by taste rather than by precise measures. Use the cream to soften the effect. Aim to end up with a moist ragout rather than a lot of liquid. Pour it on to the warm serving dish. Scatter lightly with parsley.

Start cooking the turbot when the mushrooms are nearly ready. Dry and flour the pieces and cook them to a nice golden colour in the clarified b.u.t.ter. Allow about 2 minutes a side, but be guided by their thickness. Arrange them on top of the mushrooms, and serve. If it is the season, new potatoes go well with this dish.

TWAITE SHAD see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... SHAD SHAD WALLEYE see see PERCH PERCH WEEVER see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... WEEVER WEEVER

WHITEBAIT [image]

One of the treats I best remember as a child was being taken by my mother rather stealthily to Lyons Corner House, at Piccadilly Circus, for the purpose of eating whitebait, with lemon and brown bread and b.u.t.ter. It was a dish of her nostalgic youth in London, when she was an art student. Now she lived in the north, and felt that my education was lacking in this essential experience, and must be remedied. At first I was alarmed at the crisp mound of minuscule bodies, complete with eyes, which were placed in front of me. Then I saw my mother tucking in with an impressive wave of her fork, and had to follow suit. I soon found out how right she had been. By the way she talked, I understood that whitebait was an inalienable right for Londoners, and at the time accepted her enthusiasm without enquiry. Only thirty years later, when whitebait began to appear quite frequently on pub menus outside London, did the story of this tiny fish and its enormous fame begin to reveal itself.

Whitebait is not, in fact, a separate species, but the small fry mainly of herrings and sprats. They used to be caught in shoals in the Thames off Blackwall and Greenwich, from the early spring to the end of August. As far as I can make out, the idea of whitebait dinners as a goal for excursions began with some enterprising restaurateur in Blackwall towards the end of the eighteenth century, but what gave these tiny fish their particular cachet was their appearance at the annual ministerial whitebait dinner held during most of the nineteenth century at Greenwich (I think the last one was held in 1894).

These dinners had their origin in a close political friendship. The MP for Dover, Robert Preston, a rich merchant of Scotland and Nova Scotia, had a cottage on the banks of Dagenham Reach, an idyllic sort of place. He was in the habit of inviting a friend of his, George Rose, commonly known as Old George Rose, down for the day near the end of the parliamentary session, some time towards the end of May. One year, Old George, then Secretary to the Treasury, asked if he could bring another close friend of his, Pitt, the Prime Minister. The day went well, the three men got on happily over the bottles and the occasion was repeated. The only snag was the long journey in those pre-railway days. To make things easier, Robert Preston invited the two men to dine at Greenwich; a fourth and then a fifth friend, both in the government, were invited along and eventually the annual whitebait dinner became a semi-official way of celebrating the end of the parliamentary session. The original three were all members of Trinity House, the date was fixed each year soon after Trinity Monday just before the House rose, and the dinners went on long after the deaths of Pitt and Old George and Robert Preston.

Other Londoners, rich and poor, Whig as well as Tory, delighted in what was then a jaunt to the countryside, to eat whitebait. Everyone set out to have a good time. Like the Trinity House trio, they drank too much, which led occasionally to rioting and fights among the lower orders; the n.o.bs, I take it, got drunk more quietly. 'The peculiar attraction... consists in the trip, the locality, the fresh air, and perhaps the whitebait for it loses its delicacy by transportation, and is seldom so well dressed as in the immediate proximity of its haunts.'

Whitebait dinners could be ordered that were far more than a picnic or a pub lunch. In 1835, according to Thomas Walker, in his short-lived weekly, The Original The Original, the smart place to go was Lovegrove's in Blackwall. There he had ordered the following dinner for a party of eight: 'Turtle, followed by no other fish but whitebait; which is to be followed by no other meat but grouse; which are to be succeeded by apple fritters and jelly.' They finished off with ices and a good dessert. They drank punch with the turtle, claret with the grouse and champagne with the whitebait. The post-mortem concluded that a Water-souchy of flounders should have come after the turtle.

That was a simple little meal compared with the feast described by that splendid gastronome, Thomas Love Peac.o.c.k who, a few years on, made his way there with friends, in the heat of the summer: All day we sat, until the sun went down 'Twas summer, and the Dog-star scorched the town At fam'd Blackwall, O Thames! upon thy sh.o.r.e,Where Lovegrove's tables groan beneath their store;We feasted full on every famous dish,Dress'd many ways, of sea and river fish Perch, mullet, eels, and salmon, all were there,And whitebait, daintiest of our fishy fare;Then meat of many kinds, and venison last,Quails, fruits, and ices crowned the rich repast.Thy fields, Champagne, supplied us with our wine,Madeira's Island, and the rocks of Rhine.The sun was set, and twilight veiled the land:Then all stood up all who had strength to stand,And pouring down, of Maraschino, fitLibations to the G.o.ds of wine and wit,In steam-wing'd chariots, and on iron roads,Sought the great city, and our own abodes.

In other words, they went home by train.

As a comment on occasions such as this, I quote a distich by Tennyson's eccentric elder brother, Frederick: I had a vision very lateAfter a dinner of whitebait.

It might seem from all this that whitebait is an exclusively English delicacy and, perhaps in the scale of its celebrations over more than a century, it is indeed unique. Many other countries, though, eat similar dishes. The riverside Friture de poisson in France has the same air of country festivity, although the fish tend to be larger. There are also blanchailles blanchailles to be found ( to be found (bianchetti in Italy) and a melange of pellucid sole and other minute items of the in Italy) and a melange of pellucid sole and other minute items of the Gobiidae Gobiidae family found in the Mediterranean area under the name of family found in the Mediterranean area under the name of nonnats nonnats. They eat such things, too, in New Zealand and South America, and I dare say in Africa, Australia and China. And 'virtually any salt.w.a.ter bay along the East or West coasts of America will provide a whitebait dinner', consisting mainly of tiny sand-eels and silversides. The j.a.panese eat whitebait shirasu shirasu and have regarded them with an admiring delight as they shimmer in their close thousands beneath the surface. and have regarded them with an admiring delight as they shimmer in their close thousands beneath the surface.

As though the colour of the water were moving.

Basho, the great haiku poet, saw in them the situation of powerless ma.s.ses restrained by the power of the few: The whitebaitOpens its black eyesIn the net of the Law.

Quite a thought next time you buy a package of frozen whitebait!

HOW TO BUY AND PREPARE WHITEBAIT.

Of course, whitebait should be eaten fresh whatever species it may consist of and wherever you may find them. In some places you might be able to catch them yourself 'a simple haul seine (a io-foot [3-m] length of net with a fine mesh) is all that's required.'

In Britain, we are unlikely to see whitebait fresh at all except, I would suppose, at Southend when they have the annual whitebait festival. What we do have is frozen whitebait of reasonable quality, which can be bought at the better groceries and freezer centres. Pubs serve them sometimes, quite properly with brown bread and b.u.t.ter and a wedge of lemon. They make a much better choice than ginger-crumbed plaice or extruded scampi in armoured batter.

There is only one way to cook whitebait, fresh or thawed. Do not attempt to gut the tiny creatures, just rinse and drain them and divide them into batches, according to the capacity of your deep-fryer.

Dip the first batch into milk, then shake them in a paper bag containing some seasoned flour. Put them into the fryer basket, shaking off excess flour, and plunge them into the hot oil until they are brown and crisp. Serve immediately.

For devilled whitebait, which is even more of a pleasure, add cayenne to the seasoned flour, and sprinkle the cooked fish with more cayenne.

WHITEFISH see see TROUT TROUT

WHITING Merlangius merlangus [image]

Some people do not care for whiting. They remember small grey fish coming to table curled round so that the tail was stuck through the eye sockets a perverted fancy sometimes known as merlans en colere merlans en colere. They may also remember how wholesome this object was supposed to be (wholesome was once the English excuse for serving tasteless and watery food to children). They shudder at such recollections.

It is not worth arguing against prejudice of this kind. Just buy filleted whiting, and present them under their old name of marling or merling. Make sure, of course, that they taste delicious, which they will do if you cook them in the Dieppe style or serve them with Alan Davidson's samphire sauce* or an orange sauce* which suits them particularly well. When filleted, whiting lack their blunted heads and have an attractive kipper shape because they are boned out from the back and not from the belly. These small whiting are the best to eat directly. Fillets of some length from larger whiting are the thing to buy for fish terrines and quenelles.

What are the advantages of whiting? For a start, it is one of the more rewarding members of the cod family. Not, you may think, a relationship to raise the cook's blood pressure, but it does mean that the flesh is firm, with sweet flakes, and a kind of pearly quality, and that it is abundant in other words, cheap. Much whiting is landed in Scotland (see wind-dried fish, wind-dried fish, p. 494 p. 494), where it has a much stronger ident.i.ty in people's minds than it does in England. A pity since, in my experience, whiting comes to the fishmonger's counter in the south in far better shape than most cod, and of such quality that it can be used in sole dishes without inviting sour comments, rather as mussels can be used in oyster recipes without disgrace.

The French who know a good fish when they see one, recognize this. They serve whiting with beautiful sauces like those which follow. They turn them into jeux d'esprit jeux d'esprit such as quenelles ( such as quenelles (p. 275) and dish them up with white wine*, mushroom* or shrimp* sauces. They may simply dip them in egg and breadcrumbs, and fry them in b.u.t.ter, or turn them into delicate stuffings for other fish and for terrines, or use them in soups and stews.

HOW TO CHOOSE AND PREPARE WHITING.

Never be fobbed off with tired whiting. After all the fresh is easy enough to spot; it has a bright look. Faded whiting blurs to a flop as truthfully as any rose. Buy whiting whole if you can. Their plump bellies give an indication of their freshness, as well as the brightness of their eye. If you do this, you can clean them yourself and retain the livers which you incorporate into the sauce sometimes (see the Le Duc recipe, below) or cook briefly when you cook the fish. Sc.r.a.pe off the few scales and rinse, then dry before cooking them. the Le Duc recipe, below) or cook briefly when you cook the fish. Sc.r.a.pe off the few scales and rinse, then dry before cooking them.

To fillet the fish, chop off the heads and remove the guts. With a small sharp knife, slit down the back, sc.r.a.pe one side from the bone and lay it flat, skin side down. Then, holding the bone, sc.r.a.pe the other side free, until you have a neat triangular shape lying in front of you, skin side down. Season and set aside for 20 or 30 minutes.

BASIC FISH TERRINE.

One of the pleasures of Paris is a.n.a.lysing the fish terrines in the windows of Fauchon's, in the Place Madeleine. One in particular appeals to me, with its bands of pink and white, touches of yellow and streaks of grey. I did once buy a slice and was, inevitably, disappointed even though the central fish was eel. The trouble is that for slicing neatly, the texture has to be too solid for good eating like those party jellies of one's youth that failed to melt in the mouth. I suppose you might describe a fish terrine as a type of blancmange: for success, they need delicate handling and the best ingredients.

The basis of a fish terrine is a mousseline, for which whiting is an ideal choice. As long as you have a processor As long as you have a processor, it is simple to make. If you have no machinery, turn to another recipe altogether. Unless, of course, you want to give yourself a history lesson, Squeers style, and discover why such things disappeared from our menus when skivvies abandoned our kitchens.

If you decide to cook the mousseline mixture in small moulds to be served individually, the contrasting interest will lie in the sauce (or sauces, since the plate might be partly covered with a red pepper puree, and partly with a yellow pepper puree, before the moulds are turned out). If you decide to make the loaf-shaped terrine that is cut across into slices, contrast comes from bits and pieces of special virtue that are layered with the mousseline, as well as from the sauce. These could range from fillets of a contrasting fish to oysters, mussels and shrimps, which should all be lightly cooked and free of their sh.e.l.ls; herbs and lightly cooked, bright vegetables and mushrooms should also be considered.

Since wateriness is a danger, never use a raw item that loses liquid as it cooks, oysters and mussels for instance, tomato, mushrooms especially girolles. Cook them lightly first, and cool them. Also reflect that since the oven heat will be kept low, any central treasures that you put in to vary the terrine must be agreeably edible both in themselves and in contrast with the smooth mousseline. A sliver of raw pepper or a teaspoon of raw peas spells disaster.

Terrines are luxuries, and by definition expensive. However cheap the fish you use say whiting and Finnan haddock you will have quite a bill when you add on the cream required, and the sauce. You can tackle the cost of reducing the ingredients and cooking the mixture in small individual pots. Or you can do something quite different in method but similar in effect, by making a cream instead, or what is sometimes called trust the English a fish custard.

Mousseline Cla.s.sic fish are whiting, pike and sole, see see pp. 276 pp. 276 and and 391 391. Scallops are the current choice. Salmon, eel, halibut all do well, so do turbot and sea bream and John Dory.

500 g (l lb) trimmed, skinned, fillets of the chosen fish or or trimmed scallops, white part only trimmed scallops, white part only2 egg whites250 ml (8 fl oz) creme fraiche, double or or whipping cream whipping creamsalt, pepper, cayennelemon juice, herbs, etc. to taste Chill the first three ingredients, plus the processor bowl and blade, for an hour. Turn out a couple of trays of ice cubes into a handy bowl and keep them in the fridge or freezer until needed.

Set the processor whirling, quickly cut up the fish and drop it on to the blades, alternating with egg white. Using the pulse switch for close control, pour in the cream. You should end up with a smooth light bulky ma.s.s. Season to taste. Put into the refrigerator while you prepare the contrasting bits and pieces. Work fast so that everything remains as cold as possible.

SPECIAL INTEREST375 g (12 oz) trimmed fish fillet of a contrasting colour or or sh.e.l.led cooked shrimps, oysters, mussels sh.e.l.led cooked shrimps, oysters, mussels or or a mixture that includes Finnan haddock a mixture that includes Finnan haddockchopped parsley, chervil, tarragon or chives or or cooked spinach, sorrel or laverbread cooked spinach, sorrel or laverbread or or the cooked tender tips of samphire the cooked tender tips of samphiresalt, pepper, cayenne, and nutmeg if appropriate Cut the fish into long thin strips and season them. Range the other items beside them, ready to hand.

TO a.s.sEMBLE Brush a terrine or non-stick loaf tin or 1 litres (2 pt) capacity lightly with sunflower oil. Make two strips of doubled foil, one long enough to go down the sides and length of the tin with a little over, the second long enough to go across the tin. Press them into place and brush them with oil, too. When you come to turning out the terrine, you will be able to ease it by moving the ends of these strips. Brush a terrine or non-stick loaf tin or 1 litres (2 pt) capacity lightly with sunflower oil. Make two strips of doubled foil, one long enough to go down the sides and length of the tin with a little over, the second long enough to go across the tin. Press them into place and brush them with oil, too. When you come to turning out the terrine, you will be able to ease it by moving the ends of these strips.

Into the terrine put three layers of mousseline divided by two layers of the special items you have chosen. Should you be using shrimp, remember not to put them flat but upright, stuck slightly into the mousseline so that they appear in the slices as tight round pink coils. Knock the base of the terrine on the table so that the layers shake down together.

Cover with a b.u.t.tered paper and either the lid of the terrine or a double layer of foil, tied in place.

TO COOK Switch on the oven to gas 4, 180C, 350F. Put together a bain-marie on top of the stove: place a low rack in a deep roasting tin and stand the terrine on the rack. Pour almost boiling water into the tin, enough to come up to the base of the terrine. Turn on the heat and bring the water to boiling point. Transfer the whole thing to the preheated oven. Leave for about 30 minutes. Stick a skewer into the centre. If it comes out hot and the terrine seems firm, it is ready to come out. Switch on the oven to gas 4, 180C, 350F. Put together a bain-marie on top of the stove: place a low rack in a deep roasting tin and stand the terrine on the rack. Pour almost boiling water into the tin, enough to come up to the base of the terrine. Turn on the heat and bring the water to boiling point. Transfer the whole thing to the preheated oven. Leave for about 30 minutes. Stick a skewer into the centre. If it comes out hot and the terrine seems firm, it is ready to come out.

TO SERVE HOT OR WARM Let the terrine cool slightly, then turn it out on to a hot serving dish. Pour round it a white wine* or Normandy* sauce, or serve an hollandaise* or sauce Choron* separately. Let the terrine cool slightly, then turn it out on to a hot serving dish. Pour round it a white wine* or Normandy* sauce, or serve an hollandaise* or sauce Choron* separately.

If you want to leave the terrine to keep warm for 10 minutes, do not remove the cooking terrine or tin but leave it in place over the inverted terrine on its serving dish; this prevents collapse.

TO SERVE COLD Leave to cool, then ease the straps of foil and turn the whole thing over on to a dish. Leave until next day in the refrigerator; the terrine will have parted company from the mould, which can then be lifted off. Leave to cool, then ease the straps of foil and turn the whole thing over on to a dish. Leave until next day in the refrigerator; the terrine will have parted company from the mould, which can then be lifted off.

LES FILETS DE MERLAN VALLeE D'AUGE The Pays d'Auge, the region surrounding the river and its valley, is the heartland of Normandy cooking. All the good things are to be found there cider and Calvados, excellent cream, Camembert and Livarot cheeses (though Gruyere is used in this recipe, which is the norm in French cookery). In spite of agribusiness and the demands of the EEC, it is still a pretty place, timbered farms and manors with dovecots, farm buildings put down like toys into orchards, with irises growing along the roof ridges. They could be wrapped up and sold at Hamley's or Harrods' toy department.

Add to all these advantages, a coastline of ports able to supply the freshest of fish, and you may find a steely envy tightening your jaw. Especially if you live just across the Channel in Kent, where things could be, but are not the same.

This recipe is simple, which means that the ingredients must be good. The fish should be sparkling fresh, the cider good enough to drink with the meal.

Serves 66filleted whitingsalt, pepper, cayenne5 tablespoons clarified b.u.t.ter*300 g (10 oz) chopped onion300 ml (10 fl oz) dry cider6 tablespoons grated Gruyere cheese Choose a shallow earthenware or gratin dish large enough to take the open whiting in a single layer. You will also need a heat-diffusing mat.

Season the whiting with salt, pepper and a little cayenne. Heat the b.u.t.ter in the dish and, when it melts, stir in the onion, spreading it out to cover the base of the dish. Cook over a low heat until it is tender. Lay the whiting on top, skin side down. Raise the heat to moderate, pour in the cider and sprinkle the tops of the fish with cheese.

When the cider comes just to boiling point, complete the cooking briefly either under a preheated grill or on the top shelf of the oven, preheated to gas 7, 220 C (425 F). Check after 3 minutes, and do not overcook.

MERLANS a LA DIEPPOISE.

Whiting with mussels and mushrooms, in a white wine sauce.

Serves 66 filleted whitingsalt, pepper1 kg (2 lb) mussels, cleaned375 g (12 oz) b.u.t.ton mushrooms, left wholelemon juice6 tablespoons unsalted b.u.t.ter300 ml (10 fl oz) dry white wine or or half wine, half fish stock half wine, half fish stock2 teaspoons plain flour (optional) Season the fillets and place them in a single layer, head to tail, in a flameproof pan, skin side down.

Open the mussels in the usual way (p. 239), discard the sh.e.l.ls and strain the liquor into a basin. Cook the mushrooms, with a little lemon juice to keep them white, in 4 tablespoons of b.u.t.ter: if they are on the large side small b.u.t.tons are not always easy to buy quarter them. Strain off their juice into the mussel liquor, and add the wine. Keep mussels and mushrooms warm.

Pour the liquor over the fish. Bring to simmering point on top of the stove and cook until just done. Remove the whiting to a warm serving dish and surround them with the mussels and mushrooms. Keep warm while you finish the sauce.

Strain the cooking juices into a clean pan. Taste and reduce them to improve the strength of flavour. Mash the flour with the remaining tablespoons of b.u.t.ter, if you like this was the original style and use to thicken the sauce, adding it in little bits gradually (beurre manie technique). If you are one of today's farinophobes, you may prefer to reduce the liquid to a more robust strength and beat in the last of the b.u.t.ter (monter au beurre technique).

MERLANS a LA VERDURETTE.

The t.i.tle of this recipe, adapted from one given by Madame Prunier, might be translated as 'Whiting with a little greenery'. It is for wise and knowing people who collect woodland mushrooms, or for the lucky ones who can buy them. The quant.i.ty of mushrooms required is inevitably vague since, with ceps in particular, the damaged parts are difficult to gauge until you are back at home cleaning them. Girolles lose a lot of moisture in the cooking, although again this will vary with the season. Aim to end up with 500 g (1 lb) of cookable mushrooms, if you can, although you can get away fairly successfully with 375 g (12 oz) a consideration, if you are buying them.

Serves 66 filleted whitingsalt, pepperbeaten egg and breadcrumbs or or seasoned flour seasoned flourclarified b.u.t.ter*375500 g (1 lb) chopped chanterelles (girolles) or or ceps (boletus) ceps (boletus) or or other woodland mushrooms other woodland mushroomssunflower oil6 tablespoons b.u.t.ter, unsalted4 tablespoons chopped shallot2 teaspoons each chopped parsley, chervil and chives4 tarragon leaves, choppedsalt, pepperlemon juice Season the whiting with salt and pepper, in advance if possible. Then dry it, and coat it with egg and breadcrumbs, or seasoned flour. Fry in clarified b.u.t.ter until golden, then keep warm.

Meanwhile, deal with the sauce. Cook the mushrooms in a little sunflower oil until the juices flow and they are almost done. Pour off the juice (use on another occasion), and add the b.u.t.ter and shallot. Continue to cook for a minute or two to soften the shallot slightly (be careful not to colour it). Stir in the herbs and season, adding a little lemon juice if you like. Pour over the fish and serve.

MERLANS AU VIN ROUGE.

In this recipe from the Minch.e.l.li brothers' restaurant, Le Duc, in Paris, a gla.s.s of reasonable claret is used to cook the whiting. Since the dish is for two, they obviously see the rest of the bottle being drunk with the dish and the cheese that will follow. A Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux is recommended.