Lessons in learning to like fish: part 2

SOME people MAY assume that a recipe of mine containing crab might contain me squealing ‘I GOT CRABS!’ in an over-excited, childish manner.

They would be right.

I GOT CRABS!

*titter giggle*

I’ve also got the second stage in trying to like fish.

This basically involved adding so much to the fish, it no longer actually tasted much of fish.

AWESOME.

And also delicious.

And well, the only other fishy thing I have taught myself to like thus far has been a posh fish finger from M&S.

If I’m honest, that wouldn’t make much of a blog.

So give it a go. Its tasty stuff!

Line up your ingredients: a tin of crabmeat (GET YOUR CRABS), some fish sauce, a potato, a lemon, a chilli, some garlic, ginger and coriander.

You will also need oil and a smidgen of flour.

I thought I’d give your imagination a workout.

Peel and quarter the potato.

Cook it up. Cook it up GOOD.

Or, until its tender.

You choose.

While the tater is doing its thang, peel and grate the garlic and ginger.

And finely chop the chilli.

Mix these in a bowl with the zest of a lemon, and the coriander all chopped up.

No, I didn’t do a lemon OR a coriander picture.

Imagination Workout.

Remember?

It’s like a public service I offer here.

Sheesh.

Drain the crabmeat so its super dry.

As in, all the liquid has gone, not that its wearing one of those coats that every spide and their mother seem to possess.

That only makes sense if you are from Northern Ireland.

The rest of you can concentrate on GETTING YOUR CRABS READY.

*giggle*

Dump your crabs into a bowl.

I’m trying to think of jokes.

I can’t.

Throw the potatoes into the spicy crab.

You know, running out of jokes is probably a Very Good Thing.

Add the fish sauce.

Crabs. Fishy sauce.

It’s like being a teenager over again.

Mash the whole lot up as best you can.

Pretend the mix is me, making dodgy, inappropriate, STI-related ‘jokes’.

It might help to agitate your mashing.

Form into little BALLS.

Fishy balls? Crabs?

I DO NOT NEED JOKES. THEY ARE ALREADY MADE.

Flour the balls a bit.

And then fry them up in some oil.

No photos of oil, either.

Imagination. Workout. Remember?

When they are nice and brown, flip over.

Cut the lemon you zested earlier into wedges.

And serve with the fishcakes. I drizzled sweet chilli sauce over the top, and served with plain rice and stir-fried greens.

Tasty!

MRS P HAS CRABS Spicy crabcakes
Serves 2. Cooking time 20-30 minutes.

1 tin crabmeat
200g potato
1 garlic clove
1cm piece ginger
1 red chilli
1 lemon
1 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp plain flour
Vegetable oil, for frying
2 tbsp sweet chilli sauce, to serve (optional)

1. Peel and chop the potato into small pieces.
2. Cook the potato until tender.
3. While the potato cooks, peel and grate the ginger and garlic into a bowl.
4. Finely chop the chilli and coriander.
5. Zest the lemon, and combine in a bowl with the ginger, garlic, ginger and corainder.
6. drain the crabmeat and add to the spices.
7. Add the potato, mashing well.
8. Shape the mixture into small cakes, dusting with flour.
9. Heat the oil, and fry the crabcakes for 2-3 minutes each side, until brown.
10., Serve, with lemon wedges and chilli sauce.

I watch a film, I make a dinner out of it.

I can be SO smug sometimes. Like, srsly, I take the moral high-ground faster than you switch between screens when your boss walks past your desk.

And, we all know, that is FAST. And a bit panicky.

One of the things I am rushing to get in the speedy boarding section to morality is with advertising.

I pretend like it doesn’t matter to me.

I have discovered this week that while direct advertising might not work, the subliminal stuff in films really, really speaks volumes.

Especially when its food, obviously.

After watching Napoleon Dynamite, I spent about 3 days Google searching Tater Tots.

I’m still not sure what they are, but one of these days, I’ll get me to America, and I’ll eat me some Tater Tots.

After a particular episode of Sex and the City, I was so overcome with desire for a blue popsicle I MADE MY OWN.

Like some kind of TOTAL MENTALIST.

Blame The Mothership.

She didn’t much care for blue food. So I never had any as a child.

She might be on to something.

And then, last week, I watched Julie and Julia for the first time. Yes GASP! SHOCK! HORROR! SEND THE FOOD BLOG POLICE OUT!

Pretty much as soon as it started I was in floods of tears.

Food obsessive? Check.

Call centre? Check.

Slightly narcissistic? Check.

It rung so true I forced Mr. P to watch it three days later.

And he nudged me, and said ‘Sarah, what drink did I mix you last night?’

The answer was a gimlet.

‘And what about dinner the other day?’

‘Erm……”

That dinner was these Bruschetta.

Totally and utterly, shamelessly, inspired by Julie Powell.

And made a bit spicy by me.

I really hope she isn’t a pretentious foodie type, because this is as far away from authentic bruschetta as you get.

Ruddy lovely though. Call it a ‘topped toast’ if it makes you feel better.

The ingredients: tomatoes, a part-baked baguette, fish sauce, olive oil, sugar, garlic, ginger, fresh coriander, lemon and onion.

Put the sugar in a bowl.

Squeeze in the lemon. Lime would be good to, but lemons are always flying around our house, so lemon it was.

Except it wasn’t literally flying, merely resting in a fruit bowl.

Chop the onion finely and add it to the mix.

Grate in the ginger and garlic.

And add a finely chopped red chilli. I de-seeded for this, but you could be a crazy person who likes to blow their head off at every opportunity, so I’ll leave that decision to you.

Then chop the tomato. You want it kind of chunky.

You know those ‘plain English’ campaigns banks have? Where they write in easy to understand language?

This website doesn’t meet those high standards.

So kind of chunky will have to do.

Size of marshmallows is what I’m saying, OK?

Put that in the bowl, along with some freshly chopped fresh coriander that is fresh from the window box of freshness.

Or Marks & Sparks.

You decide.

Slice the bread thickly.

heat some oil in a pan. I really don’t know why I bothered specifying Olive Oil. I think I’ve butchered the bruschetta idea way beyond recognition, so any old oil would do.

And then fry the bread slices in the oil until crispy and delicious.

Top the fried rounds with the tomato mix.

And grill for a few minutes, just until the tomatoes go a bit mushy.

Plain English, you say?

Serve, with a nice salad.

And a gimlet, obviously.

Spicy bruschetta
Serves 2 as a light lunch. Cooking time 20 minutes.

1 part-baked baguette
400g tomatoes
1 red chilli
1 lemon
2 cloves garlic
1 inch ginger
1 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp fish sauce
80g fresh coriander
1 onion
2 tbsp olive oil

1.Chop the tomatoes into large chunks, peel and grate the ginger and garlic, finely chop the onion, de-seeded chilli and coriander.
2.Mix in a bowl with the sugar, fish sauce and juice of the lemon.
3.Slice the bread into thick rounds.
4.Heat the oil in a frying pan.
5.Fry the bread slices in the oil until brown and crispy.
6.Remove bread from pan, place on a baking sheet and top with the tomato mix.
7.Place under a hot grill for 5 minutes, until the tomatoes are soft.
8.Serve.

A mid-week chook

I, like many, many others, made the decision a while back to steer my meat-eating habits away from the intensively reared. It takes a bit more organisation, but above anything, the taste difference is amazing.

Still, when it comes to chicken, choosing free-range in my local butcher means one has to buy a whole bird. Sometimes I get the nice chaps to butcher the bird into manageable chunks, but more often than not I quickly roast it, and use the leftovers to fill pies and risottos for the rest of the week. This is a great way to cook; not exactly quick, but certainly not complicated.

When I roast a chicken to serve simply (i.e. NOT with all the Sunday trimmings), this is what I do.

Get the chicken and season the cavity with salt and pepper…

Cut a lemon in half…

And do the same with a head of garlic.

I take some lovely herbs (this time I used sage, rosemary and thyme, singing Simon and Garfunkel all the way)…

And stuff all of these lovely givers of flavour into the handsome bird.

I cut some shallots in half to make a trivet for the bird (these are EXCELLENT for gravy, or even just spread onto lovely, lovely bread the next day *piggy icon*)…

And lay these on the bottom of my roasting tray.

I then plop the bird on top of the shallots, drizzle with oil and season well.

And then the whole thing goes into a lovely hot oven, until a fork into the thigh produces clear juices. A hard thing to photograph, by the way. Must. try. Harder.

Then devour the lovely chicken with mash. Or rice. or bread. Or salad. Or your bare hands. Enjoy!

Roast chicken.
Serves 4-6 (or two with enough leftovers for a couple of other dinners). Cooking time 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

1 1kg chicken
1 lemon
1 head garlic
2 handfuls herbs
8 shallots
Salt and pepper
1 tbsp olive oil

1. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Centigrade.
2. Season the inside of the chicken with salt and pepper.
3. Cut the lemon and the head of garlic in half, and stuff into the cavity with the herbs.
4. Cut the shallots in half and place on the bottom of the roasting tray.
5. Place the stuffed chicken on top, season, and drizzle with oil.
6. Put in the oven for about an hour and a half, or until the juices run clear.
7. Serve.