While our willingness to explore new foods and new flavours has led us to trail, searching, all over the globe, we remain timid when it comes to enjoying the harvest from our own shores. In short, we have a fear of fish.
It's a fear I am at a loss to understand, for fish is simple and straightforward to cook. The speed with which you can cook it should mean it is the perfect fast food and not just, for Lent, the perfect fasting food. After all, a fillet of fish can be cooked in two to three minutes, and you need only to pour on some olive oil, slice some decent bread, and you have supper. Nothing, but nothing, could be simpler.
But, in truth, our timidity leads us to make the cardinal mistake of fish cookery, which is to overcook the fish, even those varieties which offer us a fairly generous cooking time, such as monkfish, or Dover sole. A fillet of white fish, such as cod or haddock, is cooked when it is pearly white in colour: the very second it reaches this colour, it is ready and should be lifted from the oven, plated and eaten. Cooking some cod the other evening, I simply seasoned the fish (which is very important) then heated a tablespoon of olive oil until very hot and slapped the fillet flesh side down. In a minute I removed it to the oven, pre-heated to maximum, and a minute-and-a-half later it was ready. I had made one of the nicest, simplest sauces to go with it, melting half an ounce of butter, adding in 100 mls of cream and the juice of half a grapefruit and reducing it until I had a nice saucy, coating consistency. The staple, of course, had to be chips, simply cooked in the oven. But if you remain timid about using intense heat to cook fish quickly, then take the simple course and simply add the fish as the final ingredient of a casserole. The heat from all the other ingredients cooks it uniformly and simply and the risk factor of cooking fish is removed.
This first recipe using this method comes from Marimar Torres, a member of the successful Spanish wine family. It appeared in a book entitled The Catalan Country Kitchen. The browned garlic is a stunning flavour addition but you really do need to keep your eye on it as it browns: if it blackens, it will be viciously bitter and the dish will be destroyed. But as Ms Torres points out, "Don't let the name dissuade you from trying this classic dish; once `burnt', the garlic loses much of its pungency and develops surprisingly complex flavours."
The original recipe calls for red snapper or sea bass fillets but the former is rarely found here and the latter is extremely expensive, so I usually cook this with cod.
Fish in a burned garlic sauce
Serves six
1/4 cup olive oil
1 large head garlic (about 20 large cloves), peeled and thinly sliced lengthwise
1/2 lb unpeeled ripe tomatoes, seeded and finely chopped
1 1/2 lbs firm white fish, cut into six pieces
1/2 teaspoon salt
Use a flameproof casserole or non-reactive skillet with high sides that is large enough to hold the fish fillets in a single layer.
Heat the oil and add garlic; cook slowly over low heat until the garlic is dark brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Keep stirring so it does not turn black or burn - but it should be really dark brown (this will give colour and wonderful flavour to the sauce). Add tomatoes and cook over medium-low heat until dry. Add two cups of water, bring to a boil and reduce by about half.
Add the fish fillets in a single layer and sprinkle with salt. Reduce heat to medium and cook the fish, turning it only once, three to four minutes on each side, depending on the thickness of the fillets. Serve immediately from the casserole.
THE food writer, Annie Bell, says of her recipe for haricot bean and fennel stew: "This makes the perfect base for monkfish or some other white fish: add this to the casserole 10-15 minutes before it comes out of the oven." Without the fish, she describes it as "just grown-up baked beans" but it's actually much more than that, being a very subtle and attractive mixture. I like to cut the monkfish into mediumsized coins and then cook them for only a couple of minutes.
Monkfish with haricot bean and fennel stew
Serves 3-4
250g (9oz) haricot beans, soaked overnight 1 large fennel bulb 450g (1lb) tomatoes, peeled, seeded and diced 2 bay leaves 2 sprigs of rosemary 4 garlic cloves, peeled A large pinch of saffron filaments (approximately 25) 150ml (5 fl oz) white wine or vermouth 600ml (1 pint) vegetable stock, or bean cooking water 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper 3 heaped tablespoons creme fraiche 1lb monkfish Chopped flat-leaved parsley
Drain and rinse the beans, place in a saucepan and cover with cold water by 5cm (2 inches). Bring to the boil, cook for two minutes and drain them; then cover with cold water again, bring back to the boil and simmer until tender - do not boil vigorously. If necessary, top up with boiling water during cooking. The cooking time will depend on the type of beans and how fresh they are - supermarket beans take about one to 1 1/2 hours. Do not salt the beans until the end of cooking, otherwise the skins will toughen. To avoid the skins cracking once they are cooked, place the pan under the running cold tap until the beans are cool, then drain them.
Preheat the oven to 170C/ C 325F electric oven/ gas 3. Cut off the fennel shoots, trim the base and cut the bulb into segments. Arrange the beans in a casserole with the fennel and the remaining ingredients, except the seasoning, creme fraiche and parsley. Cover and cook in the oven for two hours, checking towards the end to make sure they have not dried out - if necessary add more liquid. Then, as Ms Bell says, add the fish to the casserole 10-15 minutes before it comes out of the oven.
Season the stew, then remove the beans and vegetables to a warm serving bowl, discarding the herbs. Stir the creme fraiche into the juices and reduce on the stove top until slightly thickened: pour the sauce over the beans and check the seasoning. Serve in bowls, with parsley scattered over.
BUT let's say you are a confident fish cook and want to do something impressive. Well then, here is the recipe for you, from Colm Falvey of Midleton's Clean Slate Restaurant. As cooked by Mr Falvey, this is a stunning success, the alliance of fish with a richly flavoured coating and the fresh, chive hollandaise creating something impeccable and delightful. This is worth the trip to Midleton - even if you live in Donegal.
Cod baked with a mushroom and herb crust, served with a light chive hollandaise Serves 4
10oz cod 6oz breadcrumbs 3oz diced mushrooms 10oz melted butter Herb Crust:
1 teaspoon chopped parsley
1 teaspoon chopped tarragon
1 teaspoon chopped chives
1 teaspoon chopped dill
Salt and pepper
Chive hollandaise:
4 oz butter
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon chopped chives
1 teaspoon warm water
Drop of lemon juice
Place the breadcrumbs in a bowl with the chopped herbs and diced mushrooms. Add the melted butter and season to taste.
To make the hollandaise, place the egg yolk and one teaspoon of warm water in a bowl. Melt the butter until it is bubbling. Whisk the egg yolk and water and then add the bubbling butter, drop by drop, until light and fluffy. Add the chopped chives and a drop of lemon juice. Keep warm.
Portion cod fillets into four. Dust with seasoned flour and smear lightly with softened butter. Heat a heavy fryingpan and seal the cod on both sides. Cover the flesh side of the cod generously with the herb crust.
Place in oven at 180C for 10-15 minutes until cooked. Serve the fish in the centre of the plate with the hollandaise drizzled around.
