Fish and Seafood
“River Run?” he said. “You have relations with Mrs. Jocasta Cameron?”
“She’s my husband’s aunt,” I replied. “Do you know her?”
“Oh, indeed! A charming woman, most charming!” A broad smile lifted the Baron’s pendulous cheeks. “Since many years, I am the dear friend of Mrs. Cameron and her husband, unfortunately dead.”
The Baron launched into an enthusiastic recounting of the delights of River Run, and I took advantage of the lull to accept a small wedge of fish pie, full not only of fish, but of oysters and shrimps in a creamy sauce. Mr. Lillington had certainly spared no effort to impress the Governor.
As I leaned back for the footman to ladle more sauce onto my plate, I caught Judith Wylie’s eyes on me, narrowed in a look of dislike that she didn’t trouble to disguise. I smiled pleasantly at her, displaying my own excellent teeth, and turned back to the Baron, newly confident.
—Drums of Autumn, chapter 7, “Great Prospects Fraught with Peril”
A delicious, hearty pie chock-full of the fish, seafood, and vegetables of your choice, folded in a creamy white sauce, and topped with cheesy mashed potatoes.
A childhood favorite of My Englishman, can be served this British classic for Sunday supper, followed by Governor Tryon’s Humble Crumble Apple Pie for dessert.
Serves 6
Ingredients
½ cup (1 stick) butter, plus additional for the baking dish
2½ pounds (1.1 kilograms or 4 to 5 medium) yellow potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 garlic clove, quartered
¾ cup whipping cream
8 ounces (225 grams or about 2 cups) shredded aged cheddar cheese
2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus additional
1 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 small onion, julienned (see Knife Skills)
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon mustard powder
2 cups whole milk
2 bay leaves
½ cup white wine
3 cups assorted chopped vegetables (such as leeks, peas, carrots, corn, beans)
1½ to 2 pounds (700 to 900 grams) assorted fish and seafood, such as cod, salmon, shrimp, oysters, and crab, cleaned and cut into 2-inch pieces
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 375°F. Butter a 3-quart baking dish.
In a large saucepan with 1 inch of salted water, place the potatoes and garlic. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat for a gentle boil. Cook until the potatoes are fork-tender, 20 to 25 minutes. Drain and allow to steam-dry in the saucepan, off the heat, for 2 minutes. Mash until smooth and stir in 4 tablespoons butter and ¼ cup cream. Stir in the cheddar until melted, season with 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon white pepper. Cover to keep warm.
While the potatoes cook, melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Whisk in the flour and mustard powder until smooth. Cook for 3 minutes, then slowly pour in the milk and remaining ½ cup cream, whisking continuously to avoid lumps. Add the bay leaves and cook, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching, until thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, 7 to 10 minutes. Season with the dill, the remaining 1 teaspoon salt, and the remaining ½ teaspoon white pepper. Cover to keep warm.
In a large frying pan or skillet, bring the wine to a boil over high heat. Add the vegetables and fish, cover and cook steam until the vegetables are not quite tender and the fish is just opaque, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain.
Add the fish and vegetables to the prepared baking dish. Remove the bay leaves and pour on the cream sauce, folding it in gently among the fish and vegetables. Top with the mashed potatoes, using the tines of a fork to fluff up the potatoes with peaks and valleys. Set the baking dish on a rimmed baking sheet to contain spillovers, and bake until golden and bubbling, about 45 minutes.
Rest on a wire rack for 15 minutes before serving.
Notes
• I use white pepper to avoid marring the pure white of the cream sauce and potatoes, but if freshly ground black pepper is what you have on hand, use that.
• To change things up, add the cheese to the cream sauce, omit the mashed potatoes, and enclose this pie in short crust pastry, following the directions in Jenny’s Hare Pie.
• For a quick tartar sauce to go with Trout Fried in Cornmeal, mix any leftover dill with mayonnaise and gherkins.
I sat on a chest against the taffrail, enjoying the salty breeze and the tarry, fishy smells of ships and harbor. It was still cold, but with my cloak pulled tight around me, I was warm enough. The ship rocked slowly, rising on the incoming tide; I could see the beards of algae on nearby dock pilings lifting and swirling, obscuring the shiny black patches of mussels between them.
The thought of mussels reminded me of the steamed mussels with butter I had had for dinner the night before, and I was suddenly starving. The absurd contrasts of pregnancy seemed to keep me always conscious of my digestion; if I wasn’t vomiting, I was ravenously hungry. The thought of food led me to the thought of menus, which led back to a contemplation of the entertaining Jared had mentioned. Dinner parties, hm? It seemed an odd way to begin the job of saving Scotland, but then I couldn’t really think of anything better.
—Dragonfly in Amber, chapter 6, “Making Waves”
These meaty morsels from the sea are packed in the shell with a colorful and decadent compound butter. Serve with a loaf of crusty bread and a sharply dressed green salad to balance the buttery richness, or with a big plate of Matchstick Cold-Oil Fries for an Outlandish take on the Belgian classic, moules et frites.
The leftover butter is delicious on toast under a poached egg, stirred into mashed potatoes, or perched atop a grilled steak.
Serves 4 as a main course or 6 as an appetizer
Ingredients
1 cup (2 sticks) softened unsalted butter
1 small shallot, diced
1 to 2 garlic cloves, grated or minced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 to 4 pounds (1.3 to 1.8 kilograms) mussels
1 cup white wine
Method
In a food processor, combine the butter, shallots, garlic, tomato paste, lemon juice, parsley, basil, salt, ground pepper, and cayenne pepper and pulse until well combined, scraping down the sides of the bowl often. Alternatively, in a large bowl, mash the ingredients with a fork until combined.
Inspect the mussels to ensure they are all closed. Discard any with broken shells or open ones that don’t close immediately when tapped. Use a small, stiff brush to remove barnacles and/or seaweed.
Arrange half of the mussels in a single layer in a large skillet, add half of the wine, cover, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Steam until all the mussels are open, about 3 minutes. Remove the mussels from the pan and repeat with the remaining mussels and wine.
When cool enough to handle, discard the empty half shells and use a knife to loosen the meat from the other halves. Trim the meat of any threadlike “beards.”
With a small spoon or knife, cover the meat and fill the shells with compound butter. Arrange on a baking sheet, wrap with plastic, and refrigerate up to 1 day.
Move a rack to the top rung and heat the oven broiler or a grill.
Cook the mussels until the butter is melted and bubbling, 2 to 3 minutes. Serve immediately with lots of fresh crusty bread to soak up all the coral-colored, flavor-filled butter.
Notes
• This recipe is one of the few where I specify unsalted butter—because the compound butter is full of big flavors, when combined with the mussels, things can get salty very quickly.
• When you purchase mussels, choose damp, shiny, fresh-smelling specimens with securely closed shells. (Mussels left undisturbed will open their shells slightly. Tap open shells firmly. If the shell closes, it is still alive. Discard those that don’t close.) Avoid mussels with broken or split shells and those that smell off. Store them in the refrigerator layered in damp newspaper or cloth—avoid plastic containers or bags, which will suffocate them. Wait to clean them until just before cooking.
I might have managed if it weren’t for the bloody nightingales. The dining salon was hot and crowded with courtiers and onlookers, one of the stays in my dress frame had come loose and was stabbing me viciously beneath the left kidney each time I drew breath, and I was suffering from that most ubiquitous plague of pregnancy, the urge to urinate every few minutes. Still, I might have managed. It was, after all, a serious breach of manners to leave the table before the King, even though luncheon was a casual affair, in comparison with the formal dinners customary at Versailles—or so I was given to understand.
“Casual,” however, is a relative term. True, there were only three varieties of spiced pickle, not eight. And one soup, clear, not thick. The venison was merely roasted, not presented en brochette, and the fish, while tastily poached in wine, was served fileted, not whole and riding on a sea of aspic filled with shrimp.
—Dragonfly in Amber, chapter 9, “The Splendors of Versailles”
Delicate white fish, gently cooked in an aromatic wine bath. An easy-to-prepare dish full of simple flavors that shine when served with a rice pilaf and Auld Ian’s Buttered Leeks.
Serves 4
Ingredients
3 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons chopped fresh dill
1 cup white wine, plus additional
1 teaspoon salt, plus additional
1 large lemon, cut into 3 slices plus wedges to garnish
2 onion slices (separated into rings)
2 bay leaves
1 fresh rosemary or thyme sprig
12 whole peppercorns
4 skinless fish fillets, such as cod, haddock, tilapia, or halibut
Method
In a small bowl, mix together the butter and dill. Set aside.
In a large saucepan, bring the wine, salt, lemon slices, onion rings, bay leaves, rosemary or thyme, peppercorns, and 1 cup water to a simmer over medium heat.
Gently place the fish in the poaching liquid to cover. Cook at a gentle simmer, reducing the heat if necessary, until the fish is opaque in the center and flakes with a fork. The timing will depend on the density and thickness of the fish. Thin tilapia fillets will take about 5 minutes, while inch-thick halibut may take up to 15 minutes.
Carefully remove the fish with a large slotted spoon or spatula. Serve immediately, in a small pool of the poaching liquid, and garnish with a sprinkle of salt, a lemon wedge, and a pat of dill butter.
Notes
• Add additional, equal, amounts of wine and water to the pot if necessary to cover the fish.
• Other seafoods, such as scallops and shrimp, are also delicious poached.
“Sawney’s what they say in the Highlands,” he informed me. “And in the Isles, too. Sandy’s more what ye’d hear in the Lowlands—or from an ignorant Sassenach.” He lifted one eyebrow at me, smiling, and raised a spoonful of the rich, fragrant stew to his mouth.
“All right,” I said. “I suppose more to the point, though—who am I?”
He had noticed, after all. I felt one large foot nudge mine, and he smiled at me over the rim of his cup.
“You’re my wife, Sassenach,” he said gruffly. “Always. No matter who I may be—you’re my wife.”
I could feel the flush of pleasure in my face, and see the memories of the night before reflected in his own. The tips of his ears were faintly pink.
“You don’t suppose there’s too much pepper in this stew?” I asked, swallowing another spoonful. “Are you sure, Jamie?”
“Aye,” he said. “Aye, I’m sure,” he amended, “and no, the pepper’s fine. I like a wee bit of pepper.” The foot moved slightly against mine, the toe of his shoe barely brushing my ankle.
—Voyager, chapter 27, “Up in Flames”
Oysters and black pepper have been considered aphrodisiacs by myth and legend for thousands of years. Recently, science has found that rare amino acids found in bivalves, including oysters, trigger increased levels of sex hormones. And piperine, the compound responsible for the pungency of black pepper, has been shown to increase blood flow throughout the body, providing an above-table, socially acceptable explanation for Claire’s flushed face and Jamie’s pink ears.
This recipe comes to you via Lori Zachary at LittleWhiteApron.com, my first and dearest friend to come from my Outlandish food obsession. Also a trained chef, Lori lives in Louisiana, near the Gulf coast, celebrated historically as one of the best sources for oysters in America.
6 tablespoons butter
2 large shallots, diced
2 medium celery stalks, diced
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus additional
3 garlic cloves, grated or minced
¼ cup flour
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 cups whole milk
½ cup whipping cream
1 pint (500 ml) shucked, fresh oysters in their own juices (10 to 20, depending on their size)
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper, plus additional
Method
In a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. When the butter is bubbling, add the shallots, celery, and ½ teaspoon of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, 1 to 2 minutes.
Add the flour and cayenne pepper to the vegetables in the pot and stir to combine. Cook for 3 minutes, stirring frequently, lowering the heat to avoid burning if necessary.
Add the milk and cream. Increase the heat to medium-high and continue cooking, stirring regularly, until the mixture is smooth and slightly thickened, 5 to 7 minutes.
Drain the oysters, reserving ½ cup of the juice. Add the juice, ground pepper, and remaining ½ teaspoon salt to the pot, reduce heat to medium-low, and cook 5 minutes. Add the raw oysters, reduce heat to low, and simmer until oysters are cooked, about 5 minutes. Season to taste with more salt and black pepper, if required.
Serve hot with a pat of butter, more ground pepper, and Pumpkin Seed and Herb Oatcakes or oyster crackers.
Baja Fish Tacos at the Celtic Festival
“Wow!” She walked round him in a circle, goggling. “Roger, you are gorgeous!” She smiled, a trifle lopsided. “My mother always said men in kilts were irresistible. I guess she was right.”
He saw her swallow hard, and wanted to hug her for her bravery, but she had already turned away, gesturing toward the main food area.
“Are you hungry? I had a look while you were changing. We’ve got our choice between octopus-on-a-stick, Baja fish tacos, Polish dogs—”
He took her arm and pulled her round to face him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m sorry; I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known it would be a shock.”
“It’s all right.” Her smile was better this time. “It’s—I’m glad you brought me.”
“Truly?”
“Yeah. Really. It’s—” She waved helplessly at the tartan swirl of noise and color all around them. “It’s so—Scottish.”
—Drums of Autumn, chapter 4, “A Blast from the Past”
In 1969, Bree and Roger’s Baja fish tacos would have been an assembly of heavily battered cod and shredded iceberg lettuce, smothered with a bland mayonnaise sauce and wrapped in cardboard tortillas. It’s best not to think about the octopuses-on-sticks too much.
In the twenty-first century, soft corn tortillas are filled with seared, spice-rubbed fish fingers, cabbage slaw, and topped with sliced avocado and a citrusy mayo sauce for a fresh-tasting dinner ready in under 30 minutes.
Serves 6
Ingredients
12 small corn tortillas
½ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons whole milk
Zest and juice of 1 lime (see Notes)
1 garlic clove, grated or minced
2½ to 3 pounds (900 to 1,300 grams) skinless white fish fillets, such as halibut, cod, or tilapia
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon ground coriander
2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus additional
½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper, plus additional
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
2 cups shredded cabbage
½ small red pepper, sliced
½ small red onion, sliced
½ bunch cilantro, chopped
1 teaspoon vegetable oil
1 avocado, sliced
1 to 2 limes, cut into wedges
Method
Move a rack to the middle rung and heat the oven to 250°F. Stack the tortillas, wrap them in a clean, slightly damp dishcloth, and set them in the oven to warm.
In a small bowl, mix together the mayonnaise, milk, lime zest and juice, and garlic. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.
Cut the fish into twelve pieces, 1 to 1½ inches wide. In a small bowl, mix together the cumin, coriander, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes. Sprinkle the fish pieces liberally on all sides with the spices.
Toss together the cabbage, red peppers, onions, and cilantro and season with salt and pepper.
Heat a heavy-bottomed frying pan or grill pan over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes. When hot, brush the pan lightly with half of the vegetable oil and add half of the fish pieces. Fry until the bottom half begins to turn opaque. Gently flip the fish and fry until cooked through—the timing will depend on the thickness of the fillets but shouldn’t take more than 4 to 5 minutes total. Remove to a plate and tent loosely with foil to keep warm. Wipe the pan, brush with the remaining oil, and repeat with the remaining fish pieces.
Fill each warm tortilla with a small handful of cabbage slaw and a drizzle of sauce, then top with a piece of fish and more sauce. Serve with avocado slices and lime wedges.
Notes
• Zest the lime before you juice it.
• To shred cabbage, quarter it and remove the core from each piece. Peel away four or five of the outer leaves, lay them flat on a cutting board, and cut thin slivers. Shredding on a mandolin is even faster, unless you shave your finger—so make sure to ALWAYS USE THE GUARD.
• For even more flavor, grind the spice mix in your mortar and pestle using whole cumin and coriander seeds, and peppercorns, as well as the kosher salt and crushed red pepper flakes.
He had such glimpses of Claire, of his sister, of Ian . . . small moments clipped out of time and perfectly preserved by some odd alchemy of memory, fixed in his mind like an insect in amber.
And now he had another. For so long as he lived, he could recall this moment. He could feel the cold wind on his face, and the crackling feel of the hair on his thighs, half singed by the fire.
He could smell the rich odor of trout fried in cornmeal, and feel the tiny prick of a swallowed bone, hair-thin in his throat. He could hear the dark quiet of the forest behind, and the soft rush of the stream nearby. And forever now he would remember the firelight golden on the sweet bold face of his son.
—Drums of Autumn, chapter 27, “Trout Fishing in America”
When buying whole fish, choose fresh-smelling or odorless specimens with clear, full eyes, firm flesh, bright red gills, and wet, glistening skin. Avoid dry-looking, mushy, bruised, or damaged fish, as they are either old or of poor quality. If you are unable to find whole fish, see the Note below the recipe for instructions for frying fillets instead.
Serve garnished with lemon wedges and a big pile of Matchstick Cold-Oil Fries for an old-fashioned and gluten-free fish-and-chip feast.
Serves 4
Ingredients
4 whole trout (10 to 12 ounces or 300 to 350 grams each), cleaned
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 cup cornmeal
Vegetable shortening or oil
Lemon wedges for garnish
Method
Rinse the trout under cold water and pat dry, inside and out, with paper towels.
In a small bowl, mix together the salt, ground pepper, and cayenne pepper. Season the trout inside and out.
Pour the cornmeal into a 13 x 9-inch baking dish and roll the trout, one at a time, in the cornmeal, turning several times to coat well.
In two large frying pans over medium-high flame, place ¼ inch vegetable shortening or oil and heat until shimmering. Fry the fish, two per pan, until crisp and golden on the outside and opaque on the inside, 3 to 4 minutes per side. Watch carefully as the fish are frying and reduce the heat if the fish darkens too quickly.
Drain briefly on paper towels and serve immediately with lemon wedges.
Notes
• For trout fillets, season and coat in cornmeal as directed, then fry with the flesh side down first until golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and fry the skin side until crisp, about 1 minute.
• Not all cornmeal is guaranteed to be gluten-free. Check the packaging before you buy.
