Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 23

SQUID & CUTTLEFISH Loligo spp. & spp. & Sepia officinalis Sepia officinalis [image]

Although octopus and cuttlefish and squid are much eaten in southern Europe, the cephalopod most usually encountered at the fishmonger's shop, whether in Britain or the States, is the squid. It is tender and delicious and easy to cook. Some squid are tiny, the body part about 7 cm (3 inches) long: they are the ones for quick frying. Others are most substantial, the body part over 12 cm (5 inches) long: they are the ones for stuffing and stewing and gentle frying. Whatever the size, they will have two triangular finny flaps, attached to the body. Unless the fishmonger has removed it, there will also be a fine purplish red veil of delicate transparency: this, alas, has to be removed as its appearance is spoiled by cooking, though it is not inedible. Tentacles and 'arms' ta.s.sel out from the head, ten of them, if you care to count. All in all a strange and beautiful creature.

Or don't you agree? Perhaps the appearance is a little daunting to the cook the first time he or she encounters squid. Even more daunting is the sight of a frozen block of 14 kg (28 lb) or even 30 kg (60 lb) of squid, looking like a compressed Last Judgement. Some fishmongers have to buy them this way. They are tender and good, but not so good as fresh ones, which may look inky and muddled by comparison.

The first encounter with a squid can be memorable and messy. Mine happened years ago, in 1959, when squid was still an exotic, something one ate in Greek-Cypriot restaurants in London. Yet we saw this creature on top of a pile of crabs on the quay at Seahouses in Northumberland. It looked improbable. Surely it should have come out of the Mediterranean, not the bitter North Sea.

We took it back to the cottage in Craster where we were staying. We looked at it. Tentacles, bag of a body where did one start? How could so rubbery an object be transformed into our favourite Kalamarakia stew? We rang the restaurant where we had often eaten it. Through the crackling of a bad line, we heard the manager Epaminondas, a patient man, give the simple instructions of this recipe. We followed them and the flavour was fine, just right, but that squid must have been the old man of the Fame Islands. It could have done with a high proportion of the ninety-nine bas.h.i.+ngs that, it is said, are necessary before it is tender enough to eat.

That was an unfair representative of the squid which do, in fact, flourish sweetly and tenderly quite far north in Atlantic and Pacific waters. I don't understand why they aren't a regular part of our diet, but until recently they seem to have been regarded only as bait for other fish. The fact that squid are now seen more and more is mainly thanks to foreigners, at least in Britain, and to such popularizers as Isaac Cronin in the States who has fished squid in the Monterey Bay and written a book about it, The International Squid Book The International Squid Book. He notes that the first American squid festival took place the year before in Santa Cruz. The species that he mainly writes about is Loligo opalescens Loligo opalescens, which is similar to Loligo pealei Loligo pealei eaten on the East Coast, and to the two species favoured in the Mediterranean and northern Europe. What we do not have in Europe, it seems, is the Grande Calamari of Mexican waters, that is tenderized before sale and sold in flat fillets or steaks. eaten on the East Coast, and to the two species favoured in the Mediterranean and northern Europe. What we do not have in Europe, it seems, is the Grande Calamari of Mexican waters, that is tenderized before sale and sold in flat fillets or steaks.

Mr Cronin wisely points out that 'squid protein becomes firm rapidly and then turns chewy until long cooking breaks down the muscle. Much of the squid's reputation as a tough food comes from lack of knowledge of this simple fact. Sautes should be cooked no longer than three minutes and stews no less than twenty minutes.'

This is an opinion I respect, but I am not totally convinced. Those squid rings that form part of the Greek meze meze, for instance: they are best regarded as a form of marine chewing gum, to be nibbled at steadily while the flavour lasts, then to be politely discarded rather than swallowed. For this reason I never fry squid rings at home, only the youngest, tenderest squid.

At their best, nothing in the vast trawl of fish from the sea can compare with the cephalopods squid, cuttlefish and octopus for the combination of sweetness and delicate bite. Nothing else has their power to colour a dish all the deepening shades of brown to sepia from the Greek name for cuttlefish, that once was the sole source of that colour from its abundant ink. A sepia that seems at times black in its velvety depths. I much enjoy dishes that exploit this romantic quality. It reminds me of licking the paintbrush when I was a child, though mostly its light flat taste is obscured by other items in the dish. In the case of squid, this scholarly note is taken further by the transparent piece of plastic, a rudimentary sh.e.l.l, in the mantle or body sack that is just the shape of an old-fas.h.i.+oned pen nib.

Squid seems to be a variant of the word squirt, from the cephalopod habit of blasting out a cloud of ink to discourage its predators. People used to think this was purely a smokescreen behind which the poor creature might make a retreat. Now they say that the idea is to foil the attacker into thinking that the ink itself is the prey. Presumably it then wears itself out stupidly gnas.h.i.+ng and lungeing at an incorporeal darkness that is only a semblance of the creature. This is a psychological nicety which, although it has led to an admiration of cephalopods as the intellectuals of the sea, Mensa level, Oxbridge and Ivy League, need not, I think, detain the cook.

What is more interesting from the culinary standpoint is the bodily form of the squid, which provides a convenient bag for a stuffing. The cuttlefish derives its name from this like cod, and, more understandably codpiece, it comes from the Norse kaute kaute, meaning a bag. This, however, is no good to the cook since the bag must be slit to free it from the chalky oval that takes the place of the transparent pen of the squid; sometimes you see these light dry shapes in the tideline on a beach in Europe, or in a bird cage for the canary or budgerigar to peck at. This means that cuttlefish are confined to soups and stews when full use can be made of its copious inky resources and stir-fried dishes.

Should you be housekeeping in the Mediterranean, look out for tiny supions supions or or soupions soupions, squat and minuscule cuttlefish that need little preparation beyond removing the small cuttle and rinsing but check with the fishmonger in case he has already done this. They taste particularly good when cooked with rice (see Arroz nero), or deep fried, in which case, half-cover and stand back to avoid the splutters. Arroz nero), or deep fried, in which case, half-cover and stand back to avoid the splutters.

The great areas for squid cookery are southern Europe and the Far East. In both its sweetness is underlined, inevitably by tomato in Spain, Portugal and the Mediterranean. The j.a.panese use mirin and sugar with soy sauce, depending on whether they marinade and grill little pieces on wooden skewers, or slice it into translucent water-lilies to decorate a dish of sas.h.i.+mi with its sweet and fiery sauce. Chinese cooks slice the squid bag into two triangles, score them in a diaper pattern and stir-fry these pieces with chilli, garlic and coriander the bitterness enhances the sweetness, too with extra embellishments such as peanuts and sweet pepper. Tiny squid may be stuffed simply with pork seasoned with coriander and soy, and then poached tenderly in clear chicken soup. In South-East Asia, coconut milk underlines the sweetness, so too does hot chilli (see Sri Owen's red hot sambal on Sri Owen's red hot sambal on p. 403 p. 403).

HOW TO PREPARE SQUID AND CUTTLEFISH.

Work close to the sink and have paper towels and a couple of bowls handy, for the different pieces.

After rinsing the squid, lay them on a board parallel to each other, tentacles all one way. Squeeze gently behind the hard part of each head, so that the round 'beaks' pop out between the tentacles. Throw these away. Now cut off the cl.u.s.ter of tentacles and arms so that they are still just held together by a ring. Remove any fine purplish skin and put the cl.u.s.ters in one of the bowls.

The next stage is to pull the heads gently away from the body sacks. Much of the soft innards will come away with them. You will be able to see a shadowed silver streak: this is the ink sac. Gently slip a small knife beneath it and ease it free. Put it into the other bowl. The rest of the head and innards can be kept for stock.

From the body sacks, hook out with your finger the transparent plastic-looking pen nib, if it has not come away already with the innards.

Now rinse the body sacks, pulling away the fine purple veil of a skin (deep-frozen squid may already have been skinned), and check that the inside is completely empty. Pat the sacks dry. At this stage, or earlier, you can cut away the two finny flaps. They are often chopped with the tentacles.

The body sacks can be left as they are for stuffing, cut across into rings or slit into two triangles and then scored in a diaper pattern, depending on the recipe you intend to follow.

If you intend to use the ink sacs, you can just leave them as they are and add them to the sauce if it will be sieved eventually: crus.h.i.+ng them with a little water first helps to release all the ink quickly, but is not strictly necessary. If the sauce will not be sieved, put a sieve across the pan, crush the sacs with a little water or stock and tip them into the sieve, pressing down to make sure the ink goes through either with a pestle or a wooden spoon.

Cuttlefish are prepared in the same way, except that you will find it more difficult to remove the chalky oval part. If it has to be cut away, you may well slit the body sack: it can be sewn up with b.u.t.ton thread if you want to stuff the cuttlefish, but this spoils the appearance. Cuttlefish produce more ink than squid, so be prepared.

BLACK RICE (Arroz negro) This is a dramatic-looking dish of Spanish cookery that I received from Merce Navarro, chef-proprietor of the Roig Robi restaurant in Barcelona. There you may sample Catalan and Spanish food at its finest, cooked with great skill and attention to the modern style.

Serves 46600 g (1 lb) small to medium-sized squid1 medium onion, choppedolive oil150 g (5 oz) skinned, seeded, chopped tomato1 large clove garlic, crushed, skinned, chopped400 g (14 oz) Spanish or Italian rice, suitable for risotto600 ml (1 pt) good fish stock*salt, pepper Prepare the squid as described earlier in this section, setting the ink sacs carefully aside in a basin with a little water. Chop the tentacles, cut the main part into four or more convenient size pieces.

Cook the onion in a little olive oil, slowly. When it is soft, add the tomato and cook to a thick puree. Add the squid pieces, the garlic and the rice, stirring them about in the oil for a minute or two.

Remove the pan from the heat, put a sieve over the top. Crush the ink sacs into their water, tip the whole thing into the sieve and, adding stock as you go, push through as much inkiness as you can manage. Put the pan back on the heat and simmer for 15 minutes, uncovered, or half-covered, until the liquid is absorbed. At this point, the top of the rice will be pocked with small craters. If the rice is still too firm, you will need to add extra stock or water. When it is just tender, jam the lid on the pan with a cloth, and leave for 5 minutes, over the lowest possible heat. The rice then steams to a melting tenderness. Season, if necessary.

Serve hot on its own, or with a bowl of garlic mayonnaise*.

CACCIUCCO ALLA LIVORNESE.

Cacciucco is the fish stew of Leghorn and the coast thereabouts the north of Italy's west coast. It is black, black as Chinese ink, and the first time I encountered it only a well-drilled upbringing prevented me from asking for something else and from missing one of the best experiences in European food. Family friends, the Gisalbertis, descended on Florence where I was a student. They took me to Viareggio for the day. At a small restaurant in a back street at lunchtime this strange dish appeared. Being poor I was excessively hungry, which no doubt helped my manners, but I dipped my spoon in carefully. Cacciucco turned out to be the best thing I had ever eaten. Afterwards we sat on a fallen pine tree on the beach to digest our food. We looked towards the thunderous Carrara mountains, white against purple grey, as Mario talked about the Etruscans and their strange, hidden gaiety. And about this soup.

Even if you are not in Italy, you can make this soup with a fair degree of success since its dominant notes are provided by cuttlefish and squid; small octopus if you can find one is also a good idea. Sh.e.l.lfish provide more sweetness and a pink contrast to the dark soup, with some firm white fish monkfish, whiting, John Dory, red mullet or gurnard for the cheaper bulk of the stew. As with so many fish stews and soups, aim to get the liquid part right first, properly flavoured, strained and the right consistency. In it you poach the fish. This is quite the opposite technique to a meat stew or soup.

And as with so many Mediterranean dishes, be prepared to reinforce our pallid northern tomatoes. Dried tomatoes do this very well as their flavour has a deeper subtlety than tomato puree or concentrate. In an emergency have recourse to a splash of vinegar and a couple of lumps of sugar, or even to Heinz tomato ketchup.

750 g (1 lb) squid and cuttlefish1 kg (12 lb) mixed lobster, langoustines, prawns, shrimps, mussels, as available1 kg (3 lb) mixed white fish hake, John Dory, weever, whiting, monkfish, rasca.s.se, gurnard, red mullet, as availablesalt, pepperolive oil1 large onion, finely chopped1 medium carrot, finely chopped2 stalks celery, finely chopped300 ml (10 fl oz) red winebouquet of 2 bay leaves, 4 sprigs thyme, 6 sprigs parsley1 fresh hot chilli3 cloves garlic, quartered1 kg (2 lb) tomatoes, skinned, choppedsugar, tomato concentrate or or dried tomatoes dried tomatoes1216 slices toasted or fried bread NOTE Oily fish are not suitable, e.g. herring and mackerel. Oily fish are not suitable, e.g. herring and mackerel.

Prepare and slice the squid and cuttlefish as described at the beginning of this section, keeping the ink sacs carefully in a bowl, slicing tentacles and body sacks, and retaining the soft inner debris.

As you are unlikely to buy most sh.e.l.lfish uncooked, remove the sh.e.l.ls and put them with the squid debris. Open the mussels in the usual way (p. 239) discard the sh.e.l.ls and strain the liquid over the debris, etc. Keep all cooked sh.e.l.lfish together on a plate: only lobster needs slicing.

Clean the mixed fish. Cut off any heads and put with the debris. Discard the innards, apart from the red mullet livers which can be put with the sh.e.l.lfish. Slice the fish into pieces that can conveniently be eaten with a spoon, putting the firmer fish on one plate, the rest on another. Season them. This can be done an hour or so in advance.

Prepare the soup in a large saucepan. Heat enough oil to cover the base and brown the vegetables lightly. Pour in the wine and boil down by half. Add the bouquet, chilli, garlic and tomatoes; then the debris of the sh.e.l.lfish, squid and other fish with the mussel liquid, plus a good litre (1 pt) of water. Boil slowly for 30 minutes, removing the chilli when the liquid is as piquant as you like it. Meanwhile pound the ink sacs with a little water to release the ink. Add to the soup, give it 10 more minutes and then sieve into a bowl, pus.h.i.+ng through enough vegetable to give some consistency. Taste and season, boil down a little if the flavour needs concentrating. Reinforce it with a little sugar, or with tomato concentrate or one or two pieces of dried tomato, chopped up, if your tomatoes were on the poor side. Get the soup right at this stage, then pour it into a serving pot and leave it to brew gently over a low heat. Keep it very hot without further boiling or even simmering.

About 20 minutes before the meal, attend finally to the fish. Fry the cuttlefish and squid in olive oil, then add them into the soup when they are nicely coloured and almost tender. In the same pan, cook the firm fish for 5 minutes, keeping it on the go, then add the tender fish. When they are all just cooked, transfer to the soup. Finally add the sh.e.l.lfish to the soup, give it 5 minutes to heat through, and then serve.

Put the toast or fried bread into people's bowls and ladle the Cacciucco on top, aiming for an equitable distribution of the fish.

SAMBAL GORENG c.u.mI-c.u.mI.

This recipe for squid in a red hot sauce comes from Sri Owen's Indonesian Food and Cookery Indonesian Food and Cookery. She says that if you are nervous of the heat of 6 large red chillis, subst.i.tute some sweet red pepper; the sauce must be a fine robust colour. The ingredients are available from oriental stores, and Macadamia nuts can be used instead of kemiri.

Serves 4 as a main dish, or 6 as a side dish1 kg (2 lb) squid1 tablespoon white vinegar5 kemiri (candlenuts)6 large red fresh chillis, seeded6 shallots or or 1 onion 1 onion1 slice tra.s.si or or blachan (optional) blachan (optional)2 teaspoons powdered ginger teaspoon ground c.u.min teaspoon turmeric teaspoon powdered lemon gra.s.s2 teaspoons peanut oil3 tablespoons tamarind water1 teaspoon brown sugarsalt Clean the squid, keeping only the body sack which should be cut into small squares and the tentacles and arms which should be cut into 1-cm (-inch) lengths. Mix the vinegar with 600 ml (i pt) water, stir in the squid and straightaway tip the whole thing into a sieve over the sink. Leave the squid to drain.

Pound the next ingredients down to and including the lemon gra.s.s into a paste. Fry it in the oil in a saute pan for 1 minute, put in the squid and tamarind water and cook for 3 minutes more. Add sugar, some salt and 150 ml (5 fl oz) water, and cook for about 5 more minutes, stirring often. Serve hot, with rice.

SQUID AND COCONUT CURRY.

A somewhat westernized form of cooking squid, this makes a most delightful dish so long as you like coconut. The recipe works well for firm white fish such as halibut, weever and monkfish, and for tuna or swordfish or tope.

Serves 461 kg (2 lb) medium-sized squidpeanut oil175 g (6 oz) chopped shallot or or red onion red onion4 cloves garlic, finely chopped2 tablespoons chopped Macadamia nuts3 teaspoons lightly crushed coriander seeds1 fresh chilli pepper, seeded, chopped, plus 1 whole chilli, seeded1 teaspoon ground turmeric1 teaspoon grated ginger1 stalk lemon gra.s.s or or a little lemon juice a little lemon juice46 tablespoons tamarind waterscant litre (16 fl oz) coconut milksalt Clean the squid, saving the body sack (cut into squares) and the tentacles and arms (cut into short lengths). Fry them briefly in a little oil to colour them lightly.

If you like the sauce very smooth, process or blend in a liquidizer the shallot or onion, garlic, nuts and coriander; fry the resulting paste. Or fry just the shallots or onions on their own, adding garlic, nuts, and coriander when they are soft. Add the remaining spices and tamarind water. Simmer it all together for a minute or two, then put in the squid. When it is almost tender, add the coconut milk. As the dish cooks, taste it and remove the whole chilli when it is as hot as you like it and add salt, if necessary. The sauce should end up thick and spicy: if it seems to be thickening too fast before the squid is done, add a little water and cover it.

Serve with rice and sticks of cuc.u.mber.

STUFFED SQUID IN ITS OWN INK (Calamares en su tinta) To me, this is the perfect way of cooking squid. It reminds me of endless summer lunches in the sun, under the lime tree, usually on Thursdays, the day after Montoire market, because squid keeps reasonably well in the refrigerator and this is essentially a lunchtime dish; delicacies such as weever or miniature sole belonged to Wednesday night. I should qualify this picture by remarking that if you are nimble with your fingers and unlikely to be interrupted, you could make the dish on a small scale, with small squid, as the first course for a dinner: the secret of success is to allow room for the stuffing to swell and to make sure the cooking temperature is below boiling point, barely shouldering a simmer.

The particular blend of ingredients brings out the sweetness of squid, shows it off with sharp and savoury contrasts. The resistant texture of squid is reduced to an agreeable bite. Variations on the theme are numerous. I give some of them below.

Serves 66 medium squid, with bags measuring 15 cm (6 inches)8 tablespoons white or red wineolive oil3 medium onions, chopped small34 cloves garlic, crushed, skinned, chopped small60 g (2 oz) serrano or or Bayonne Bayonne or or other smoked ham, chopped other smoked ham, chopped90 g (3 oz) fresh breadcrumbs1 small bunch of parsley choppedsalt, pepper, cayenne250 g (8 oz) firm, ripe tomato, skinned, choppedsmall fried triangles of bread or fried, round slices of French bread to garnish Prepare the squid as described above, putting the ink sacs into a basin with just under half the wine. Crush together so that the ink runs, and then set aside.

Chop the squid tentacles and side flaps. Discard the rest of the head, and peel off the fine purple membrane from the cleaned bags.

To make the stuffing, heat up enough oil to cover the base of a wide shallow pan. In it, soften the onion with the garlic. When soft and yellow, remove half the onion to keep for the sauce. To the pan add the chopped tentacles, etc. As they begin to brown lightly, put in the ham. Mix the breadcrumbs with the rest of the wine and stir the resulting, rather lumpy paste into the pan as well. Cook briefly, add parsley and seasonings, then cool slightly. With a teaspoon, put the stuffing into the squid bags, leaving them one-third empty. Take a st.i.tch in the top of each bag, with a wooden c.o.c.ktail stick, to close them.

For the sauce, put the onion you set aside into a heavy shallow pan or earthenware serving dish. Add the tomato, any left-over stuffing and seasoning. Lay in the squid, top to tail. Put in a little water to bring the liquid level to the top of the squid, and check seasoning. Simmer on top of the stove, or in the oven if it happens to be on at a moderate temperature. Turn the squid occasionally, with great care, and keep the heat down. Allow 30 to 45 minutes on top of the stove, longer in the oven, uncovered in either case, so that the sauce reduces.

Five minutes before serving the squid, sieve the ink into the sauce. You could also then sieve the sauce if you prefer to have it smooth. Tuck the bread into the dish, round the side, and scatter the little white cus.h.i.+ons of squid with a discreet amount of chopped parsley.

Chipirones a la bilbaina Prepare the squid as above, retaining none of the ink. Make the stuffing as above, with the same ingredients. Stuff the squid, colour them lightly in a little olive oil and put into a pan or pot. For the sauce, you will need: cooked onion from the stuffing500 g (1 lb) mussels, opened, their liquor strainedlemon juice2 medium tomatoes, skinned, seeded, choppedsalt, pepper, cayennea little fine chopped parsley Put the onion, the mussel liquor, 2 teaspoons lemon juice and the tomatoes in with the squid. Cook gently as above. Sieve the sauce or process it, if you like. Check the seasoning and pour round the squid. Stir in the mussels, minus their sh.e.l.ls, and heat through as briefly as possible. Sprinkle with parsley. Serve immediately, with bread.

Kalamarakia yemista Prepare the squid in the usual way. Keep the ink for another dish. You will also need: 175 g (6 oz) chopped onionchopped tentacles and flaps from the squidolive oil125 g (4 oz) brown or long grain rice75 g (2 oz) pine kernels100 g (3 oz) currants or or raisins raisins1 small bunch of parsley, choppedsalt, pepper125 ml (4 fl oz) dry white or red wine375 ml (12 fl oz) tomato juice3 pieces dried tomato, chopped or or tomato paste tomato paste Cook the onion and tentacles in the minimum of oil until soft. Stir in the rice, and 125 ml (4 fl oz) water. When the water is absorbed, add the pine kernels, currants or raisins and enough chopped parsley to make a good speckled effect. Season and stuff the squid, as above.

Brown the squid lightly in a little oil. Add wine, tomato juice, dried tomato or tomato paste. Keep the pan at a simmer, until the squid are tender. If the sauce reduces too fast, half-cover the pan and lower the heat. Add seasoning towards the end.

SUMMER BORSHCH WITH SQUID.

Serves 6500 g (1 lb) squid of medium sizefish stock or or water, about 1 litres (3 pt) water, about 1 litres (3 pt)500 g (1 lb) beetroot, plus 1 extraabout 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar2 medium carrots1 small head of fennel or or the heart of a small head of celery the heart of a small head of celery2 ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded, choppedbundle of 68 spring onions, chopped12 tiny new potatoes, sc.r.a.ped125 g (4 oz) small courgettes, sliced diagonallysalt, pepper3 clovesbouquet garni including a sprig of dillsmetana or or soured cream and finely chopped dill to garnish soured cream and finely chopped dill to garnish Clean the squid, retaining the body sacks and tentacles and leaving them unsliced. If you have no fish stock, boil up the innards and heads with the water to give it a little flavour.

Keep any lively looking stalks and leaves from the beetroot. Peel and grate the extra beetroot into a small pan. Pour enough boiling water over it to cover completely and add 3 tablespoons of vinegar. Bring slowly to the boil, then cover and set aside to infuse for 20 minutes while you make the borshch: this is the brilliant coloured beetroot stock that you use at the end to revive the colour.

Peel the rest of the beetroot and grate it coa.r.s.ely into matchstick shreds directly into a large pan. A mandolin is the ideal implement. Do the same with the carrots. Add the squid and cover with fish stock or water. Simmer for 20 minutes, removing the squid pieces when tender: slice them into strips and keep to one side. Add the rest of the vegetables to the pan with extra stock or water to keep them well covered as they cook. Slice the beetroot stalks and leaves and put them in as well, with all the seasonings. Simmer until the vegetable are just done, then put back the squid to heat through. Keeping the heat low, strain in the beetroot stock and adjust seasoning.

Ladle the soup into bowls and add a spoonful of smetana or soured cream with a sprinkling of dill.

SUNFISH see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... OPAH OPAH

SWORDFISH Xiphias gladius [image]

Swordfish are found all over the world, but usually in warmer waters than ours. Americans are not short of swordfish, neither are Spaniards, Italians, Greeks and other dwellers to the east. Occasionally they swim to our sh.o.r.es, but normally prefer the Mediterranean which is where you should look out for them on menus and market stalls.

In October of 1970, there was excitement on the Atlantic coast of France because the fishermen of La Roch.e.l.le had encountered a huge shoal of swordfish. The trawlers concerned, the Vieux marin Vieux marin and the and the Claude Jean Robert Claude Jean Robert from the ile d'Yeu, usually brought in no more than two or three tons of fish. This catch weighed twenty tons, and was uncommon enough to justify two or three paragraphs in the French papers. I asked our weekly fishmonger at Montoire market about it. She explained that the firm-fleshed from the ile d'Yeu, usually brought in no more than two or three tons of fish. This catch weighed twenty tons, and was uncommon enough to justify two or three paragraphs in the French papers. I asked our weekly fishmonger at Montoire market about it. She explained that the firm-fleshed espadon espadon was a great treat the shoal would bring much profitable joy to the fishmongers and merchants of La Roch.e.l.le. She obviously envied them. So did I, as swordfish was something I had never cooked. was a great treat the shoal would bring much profitable joy to the fishmongers and merchants of La Roch.e.l.le. She obviously envied them. So did I, as swordfish was something I had never cooked.

There was no mention in the paper of any damage caused by this tonnage of swift and powerful fish. I had hoped for some modern record echoing the old reports that a swordfish strikes with the 'acc.u.mulated force of fifteen double-headed hammers', and can pierce through 50 cm (20 inches) of timber, even oak.

If you go down to the foot of Italy, to the Tyrrhenian Sea and the Straits of Messina, you soon discover that things do not always go the swordfishes' way. When they go down to the African coast every year to sp.a.w.n, the sharp-eyed fishermen are on the look-out and are prepared for the hunt. The strange boats they use can be seen at Bagnara, say, or Scilla. They have tall thin metal look-out towers, ladderlike in their silhouette, and long metal platforms that jetty out over the sea like a murderous arm. That and the ferocious tuna fis.h.i.+ng are sights of antique barbarity and blood that one is hypocritically happy not to see. The August and September traveller sees swordfish for ever on the menu, and groans as it is so often overcooked.

Like tuna, or porbeagle and other sharks, swordfish is sold in steaks and intended, mostly, for the grill. First it will be marinaded in olive oil with garlic and parsley and lemon, then turned over charcoal and served with lemon. In Honey from a Weed Honey from a Weed Patience Gray describes a Catalan roasting technique, by which the marinaded fish is slapped down directly on the hot plate of a kitchen range. After a while it is turned and 'roasted' on the other side, then it comes to table with a pounded romesco sauce*. Often swordfish will be sealed in hot oil, then stewed gently in tomato with piquant additions such as capers, olives and anchovies. Alan Davidson describes a most odd-sounding sandwich of a pie in his Patience Gray describes a Catalan roasting technique, by which the marinaded fish is slapped down directly on the hot plate of a kitchen range. After a while it is turned and 'roasted' on the other side, then it comes to table with a pounded romesco sauce*. Often swordfish will be sealed in hot oil, then stewed gently in tomato with piquant additions such as capers, olives and anchovies. Alan Davidson describes a most odd-sounding sandwich of a pie in his Mediterranean Seafood Mediterranean Seafood. For years I jibbed at the sweet pastry it is a recipe that takes one back in mind to the Arab occupation of Sicily, like the beccafico sardines on p. 329 p. 329 then took courage when swordfish began to appear regularly at Waitrose and tried it. It is most delicious and not odd at all, well worth trying. then took courage when swordfish began to appear regularly at Waitrose and tried it. It is most delicious and not odd at all, well worth trying.

HOW TO PREPARE SWORDFISH.

Swordfish is sold in convenient steaks. Nothing much to do, unless you need to remove the bone and leathery skin for the recipe you are following. If the steaks are to be grilled or 'roasted', no need to bother.

Serve it simply with lemon quarters, or the Sicilian Salmoriglio which Ada Boni recommends: this is made by beating together, in the top of a double boiler, 250 ml (8 fl oz) of olive oil, the juice of 2 lemons and a couple of tablespoons of water. Flavour it with a generous tablespoon of chopped parsley, 2 teaspoons fresh oregano or rather less dried oregano and some salt.

IMPANATA DI PESCE SPADA.

This is Sicilian swordfish pie from Alan Davidson's Mediterranean Seafood Mediterranean Seafood. Other firm fish can be used: he suggests halibut, I would add white tuna, porbeagle and monkfish.

Serves 8PASTRY400 g (14 oz) plain flour200 g (7 oz) b.u.t.ter175 g (6oz) caster sugar45 egg yolksfinely grated peel of 1 lemonpinch of saltFILLING500 g (1 lb) swordfishsalt, pepper2 medium onions, choppedolive oil2 tablespoons tomato paste, diluted with a little water2 celery stalks, finely chopped100 g (3 oz) green olives, stoned, chopped2 tablespoons capers45 courgettes1 beaten eggseasoned flour Make a short pastry dough with the listed ingredients, using a little iced water only if absolutely necessary. Chill for an hour.

Meanwhile, cut the swordfish into tiny pieces and season them. Brown the onion in a little oil in a saute pan. Add tomato paste, celery, olives, capers and fish. Cook gently to get rid of wateriness.

Cut the courgettes into 5-cm (2-inch) strips, coat the pieces with egg and flour and fry in hot oil, then drain on kitchen paper.

Rub a pie dish with a b.u.t.ter paper and flour it choose one that is about 20 cm (8 inches) across and 7 cm (3 inches) deep. If it has hinged sides, so much the better. Divide the pastry into three. Roll out the first bit, making it large enough to lay in the dish and come a little way up the side. Put on half the swordfish mixture and half the courgettes. Put on the second layer of pastry. Repeat with layers of swordfish and courgettes, then top with a third layer of pastry, tucking it down the side of the dish to meet the bottom layer. Brush with the last of the beaten egg and bake in the oven preheated to gas 5, 190C (3750F), for 5055 minutes. Check occasionally and turn the heat down slightly, or protect the pastry with paper, if it becomes too brown.

GEORGE LANG'S SWORDFISH STEAK WITH SOFT-Sh.e.l.lED CRAB The crispness of soft-sh.e.l.l crab when it is cooked, the biscuity quality and spiced flavour make a good contrast with swordfish. The combination was George Lang's idea. It appears in his Cafe des Artistes Cook Book Cafe des Artistes Cook Book and on the menu of the Cafe in New York. There you eat warm and lively food, food of an energetic delight that is not pale or mechanical or pretentiously fas.h.i.+onable. Every time I go there, I come out with ideas and a feeling of general satisfaction. Once it was a glorious dessert of fruit, cut into elegant, convenient pieces and arranged like a painting on a big Victorian serving dish: the waiter put it down in the centre of the table, we were each given a fork and we were able to spear the bits we fancied and keep on talking. An ideal dessert, I should say in parenthesis, after a main course of fish. Another time I left the Cafe happy was after the first experience of eating fresh sturgeon. and on the menu of the Cafe in New York. There you eat warm and lively food, food of an energetic delight that is not pale or mechanical or pretentiously fas.h.i.+onable. Every time I go there, I come out with ideas and a feeling of general satisfaction. Once it was a glorious dessert of fruit, cut into elegant, convenient pieces and arranged like a painting on a big Victorian serving dish: the waiter put it down in the centre of the table, we were each given a fork and we were able to spear the bits we fancied and keep on talking. An ideal dessert, I should say in parenthesis, after a main course of fish. Another time I left the Cafe happy was after the first experience of eating fresh sturgeon.

Now that swordfish is not difficult to find in Britain, and soft-sh.e.l.l crabs are making an appearance, try this recipe for a special occasion.

Serves 44 medium soft-sh.e.l.l crabsplain flour6 tablespoons unsalted b.u.t.tersalt, pepper4 thick swordfish steaks, about 175 g (6 oz) each2 tablespoons melted unsalted b.u.t.ter2 lemons, halved with a zigzag cut, like crowns Switch on the grill. Rinse the crabs and dry them. Flour them lightly, shake off the excess and fry them gently in the b.u.t.ter over a medium heat. Give them 5 minutes a side they should end up golden brown and crisp-looking. Season them with salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, brush the swordfish lightly with the melted unsalted b.u.t.ter and season them. Grill them for 3 minutes, turn and complete the cooking another 3 minutes. Serve each steak with a crab on top and half a lemon on the side.

SWORDFISH GRATIN ON TOAST.

This will make a supper dish for two people, and can be adapted to your taste and what happens to be in the larder. By adding extra liquid to the egg mixture and building up the main ingredients in a baked pastry case rather than on toast, you can make an appetizing tart: it will need to be cooked in the oven.

Serves 21 slice swordfish, about 200 g (7 oz), sliced thinly on the diagonal375 g (12 oz) firm tomato, skinned, slicedsalt, pepper, cayenne2 medium onions, sliced3 tablespoons single or or whipping cream whipping cream2 egg yolks2 anchovy fillets, drained, chopped1 tablespoon each chopped parsley and basil2 teaspoons small capers2 large slivers of a melting cheese mozzarella, fontina, single Gloucester, Gouda, Lancas.h.i.+re, etc. or 2 tablespoons each grated Gruyere and Parmesan 2 tablespoons each grated Gruyere and Parmesan2 large slices breadolive oil Season the fingers of swordfish and the tomato with salt, pepper and cayenne. Simmer the onion in the least possible salted water until just tender, and drain. Beat together the cream, egg yolks, anchovy fillets, herbs, capers and if used the grated grated cheeses. cheeses.

Preheat the grill and toast the bread. Put it on to a serving dish and keep warm.

Heat a large saute pan over a medium heat and brush thinly with olive oil. Cook the swordfish briefly, seconds a side, until it turns opaque. Remove and quickly put in the tomato in a single layer. Cook fast on both sides until the slices blur and are just about tender, but still in shape. Remove and, if need be, reheat the onion slices quickly. Put them on the toast evenly, then make a layer of the fish, then the tomatoes. Put on the large slivers of melting cheese, if used, and pour over the egg mixture. Put under the grill, lower the heat a little and leave until lightly browned. Serve immediately VARIATION You could subst.i.tute fresh or canned tuna for the swordfish. Heat the caned tuna through very briefly or it will become stringy and dry. You could subst.i.tute fresh or canned tuna for the swordfish. Heat the caned tuna through very briefly or it will become stringy and dry.

SWORDFISH STEAKS WITH FENNEL.

This combination of swordfish, fennel and basil is based on a recipe of Paul Minch.e.l.li's. He was one of the first in France to serve marinaded fish and very lightly cooked fish in his restaurants. He has revolutionized the cooking of the firm meaty fish, such as tuna, swordfish, porbeagle and tope. In the old days, you were told to cook them 'as if they were veal', i.e. for at least 35 minutes, even longer: nowadays, the cooking is brief and to the point, the fish in consequence is no longer dry and stringy.

Serves 66 slices of swordfish, 1 cm ( inch) thicksalt, pepperolive oil4 cloves garlic, crushed, skinned, finely chopped6 small bulbs of fennel, sliced, some of the leaves saved6 slices mozzarella cheese2 tablespoons pine kernelsleaves of 1 small bunch of basil3 tablespoons grated Sardinian pecorino or or Parmesan Parmesan or or the two mixed the two mixed Season the fish with salt and pepper and set aside. Pour a thin layer of oil into a saute pan and cook the chopped garlic in it slowly to perfume the oil. Do not let it colour. After about 5 minutes, add the sliced fennel and let it cook for 10 minutes. Taste it from time to time you may like it harder than I do.

Heat up a heavy non-stick pan and put in the swordfish to cook like a steak. Turn it after 30 seconds, and give it another 30 seconds. Put it on top of the gently bubbling fennel, cover the pan and give it another minute. The fish should be supple and soft, if you press it.

Remove the fish, mix the reserved fennel leaves, chopped, into the cooked fennel and then put it all on a serving plate. Place the fish on top, then the slices of the mozzarella on the fish. Keep this warm while you chop the pine kernels and basil, and mix with the cheese. Spread over the fish, put under the grill until the mixture softens on top of the swordfish and the nuts turn a light brown. Serve immediately.

TOPE see see SHARKS SHARKS

TROUT, CHAR, GRAYLING & WHITEFISH Salmo spp., spp., Salvelinus Salvelinus spp., spp., Thymallus Thymallus spp. & spp. & Coregonus Coregonus spp. spp.

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The best trout, whatever the size, variety or place may be, is the one you catch yourself and eat within an hour or two. Given these happy circ.u.mstances, the style of cooking hardly matters at all baking in newspaper, frying, grilling, simmering in salted water; whatever you do, it will taste perfect. If anyone can suggest a finer food, apart from salmon trout, I should be grateful to know about it.

This is one reason why people pay apparently ridiculous sums for a stretch of trout fis.h.i.+ng, and why people since the Middle Ages have been studying the trout's habits with that pa.s.sionate, contradictory love that hunters seem to devote to their prey.

In their book on trout, in Collins's New Naturalist series, W. E. Frost and M. E. Brown point out that long before Izaak Walton was born, Dame Juliana Berners was discoursing on the joys of trout fis.h.i.+ng and the correct comportment of trout fisherman (to be summed up as 'Don't be greedy'). The two modern authors delight in the variety of size and colouring in our native brown trout. In Lough Derg and Lake Windermere the trout are large and silvery with black spots. In the small brown tarns near Windermere, the little fish have 'yellow bellies and red spots on their dark sides'. Some trout have pink flesh like salmon they are the best of all to eat some have white flesh. 'As trout swim and turn gracefully in their native waters in rus.h.i.+ng becks, placid lakes or yellow bog-pool they are, simply, beautiful.'