Of all the favoured foods of the past centuries which are now undervalued, it is perhaps seaweeds which have fallen furthest from grace. Maybe it is that name - sea weeds - which has caused them to become disregarded, and maybe things would be improved if we called them sea vegetables, which they properly are. Think of how noble sugar kelp, for example, sounds when we call it by its other name, Kombu Royale, and doesn't spaghetti de mer sound delectable, as delectable as the long, flowing tresses taste?
In past centuries, seaweeds were a staple of the diet of those who lived along the coastlines. Dulse (also known as dilisk), sloke (which the Welsh call laver) and carrageen were the three principal sea vegetables eaten, and they remain the most popular today.
If seaweeds have become a minority taste, they are nevertheless passionately enjoyed by those who appreciate them. The great Sligo chef, Bernadette O'Shea, is a marvellous advocate of edible sea vegetables, and her book, Pizza Defined, uses seaweeds as relishes, as condiments, and, crisped, in sandwiches.
And other chefs who enjoy exploring and revising past flavours have begun to latch on to the merits of sea vegetables: Adrian Roche, of Dublin's splendid Jacob's Ladder restaurant, makes a carrageen and tomato broth to serve with salmon, while one of the finest dishes of mashed potato I have eaten in recent times is Stephen McIlroy's recipe, from the Stepping Stone restaurant on the Ring of Kerry, for dulse and garlic mash, a knockout mixture.
Edible sea vegetables are sold mostly in wholefood shops. Look out for Frank Melvin's wonderful Carraig Fhada range - second-to-none quality from west Sligo. But if you fancy cooking with other seaweeds, then begin with a technique much used by great chefs: cooking fish in a blanket of, or on top of, seaweeds. Michel Guerard, in his classic book Cuisine Minceur, for example, includes a recipe for bass cooked in seaweed. He takes a large sea-bass, doesn't scale it ("the scales contain a salty deposit which intensifies the fish's savour of the sea as it cooks underneath its seaweed blanket, and also makes it easier to skin once it is cooked" - a useful tip) and cooks it in a blanket of seaweed, with water added. He cooks it on a fast heat for 20 minutes, then skins the fish, seasons it and serves it with a sauce vierge and a watercress puree.
The English seafood cook, Rick Stein, does something similar with red mullet. He blanches the seaweed, then puts it back in the pot with fish stock, places fillets of red mullet on top, covers the pot and steams the fish on a low heat until cooked. The stock is then strained and reduced by two-thirds over a high heat, when some butter is whisked into it and it is served over the fish.
Both ideas are simple, and are wonderful at intensifying the flavour of the fish.
Here is a selection of ways to exploit the glories of sea vegetables, beginning with a delicious vegetable side-dish which can partner almost anything from a steak to a vegetarian feast.
Baked Leek with Spaghetti de Mer
This recipe is simple, and as such is a wonderful showcase for the sea vegetables. It is also absurdly healthy and scrumptious.
4 medium sized leeks, julienned
1/4 cup spaghetti de mer
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
Sesame oil
Open out a square of tinfoil, and pile on the leeks. Mix in the spaghetti de mer (you can also use sliced dilisk) and sesame seeds, turn up the edges, sprinkle in the soy sauce and fold into a parcel. Bake in a medium oven for about an hour until the vegetables begin to caramelise slightly in the soy. Serve, dribbled with a little sesame oil.
You can substitute grated carrot for the leeks in this recipe.
Gerry Galvin's Carrot and Dilisk Bread
Using dilisk in breads has become fashionable lately and, as Gerry Galvin notes in his book Everyday Gourmet, "the use of the seaweed dilisk or dulse lends an unusual and definite taste of the sea". Galvin also says: "This is primarily a savoury bread but it has an element of sweetness in it that makes it acceptable as a tea bread."
25g (1 oz) dried dilisk, soaked for five minutes in water
110g (4 oz) butter, melted
1 large carrot, grated
4 eggs
50g (2 oz) castor sugar
pinch of salt
250g (9 oz) plain white flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
Drain dilisk. Pat dry with a kitchen towel and chop finely. Brush the insides of a loaf-tin all over with a little butter. In a mixing bowl, combine remaining butter, carrot, eggs, sugar, dilisk and salt.
Fold in sieved flour and baking powder. Fill the tin with cake mixture and bake for 40-50 minutes - a skewer inserted in the cake should come out clean. Cool before turning out and slicing.
Stepping Stone Dulse Mash
Stephen McIlroy and Sally Walker are the dynamic cooks in the Stepping Stone restaurant in Caherdaniel, and here is one of their most inspired ideas. They serve this with peppered monkfish and oysters.
2 lb peeled potatoes
5 fat cloves garlic
1/4 lb butter
1/4 pint cream
1/2 oz dulse (picked over to check for shells etc)
Salt to taste
While the potatoes are boiling, crush garlic and bring to the boil with the cream: leave to infuse on a low heat or a pilot light. Pour into a large dish containing the roughly-cut dulse. When cooked, mash the potatoes, preferably with a potato ricer, and add to the dulse infusion. Stir in a little salt to taste, and serve.
Notes: Always use good, floury potatoes for mash - e.g. Cara, Saxon, Desiree. Avoid over-seasoning, as dulse has its own salty properties. Do not beat the mash - glue isn't the way to go!
Fresh Peach with Carrageen Relish
Here is a brilliant sea-vegetable idea from Bernadette O'Shea, from her book Pizza Defined. An original idea, it uses carrageen to bind together a colourful relish with a fruity, savoury tang. If you can't find peaches at this time of year, use nectarines.
15g (1/2 oz) carrageen seaweed
450ml (16 fl oz) water
50ml (2 fl oz, 1/4 cup) of raspberry juice (see below)
1 red onion, diced
1 red pepper, diced
1 red chilli, thinly sliced Juice of 2 limes
3 tablespoons of chopped coriander
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
5 medium sized peaches, roughly diced
Check through the carrageen for shells and small stones and wash carefully. Place in a saucepan with the water and soak for 30 minutes. Bring to the boil and simmer for about an hour. Meanwhile, make the raspberry juice: heat a generous handful of raspberries over a medium heat until pulpy, then extract the juice by pushing through a fine sieve with a pestle.
Towards the end of the carrageen cooking time, begin to prepare the other ingredients (except the peaches) and combine in a bowl.
After an hour of cooking, strain the carrageen liquid into a clean bowl and allow to partially cool while you prepare and add the peaches to the fruit mixture. Before the carrageen sets, add it too to the fruit mixture and gently combine. Cover and refrigerate.
A-hem, a-hem . . . a cure for coughs
Finally, here is something very useful for those of you still coughing your way through a winter flu. Carrageen is the best cure for colds and coughs, and everyone should know how to make a good carrageen drink.
Here is a version of the old standby, quoted in Regina Sexton's book, A Little History of Irish Food.
"This was an old reliable in many Irish households, used to ward off the inevitable Irish winter coughs and colds. Quick and simple, this velvety drink will soothe a raw throat and calm a harsh cough.
"Take a good handful of dried carrageen and boil in a pint of water. Add the juice of half a lemon and sugar to taste (I use honey in place of sugar).
"To accelerate the curing process, a generous dash of whiskey should be added!".
A very generous dash, I think.