To prepare flat fish
To fillet flat fish
Fried Plaice with Parsley
Green Fish Fingers with Cauliflower Cream
Parcels of Plaice or Lemon Sole, Courgette and Thyme
Plaice with Indian Mint Chutney
Tempura Fish with Carrot and Coriander Salad
Lemon Sole with Crushed Peas and Vine Tomatoes
Asian Fish in a Packet with Basmati Rice
Lemon Sole à la Meunière
Grilled Dover Sole
Turbot in Champagne and Chive Sauce
Turbot and Dover sole are without doubt the king and queen of flat fish, but the knights of their realm – megrim and lemon sole, witch or Torbay sole, brill and plaice – are superb fish too. They are all best cooked simply, skin and fins removed, then grilled whole with plenty of butter and lemon juice and eaten with buttered new potatoes.
Working backwards in order of perceived status, plaice is instantly recognizable by the orange–red spots on its dark brown ‘back’. It is generally regarded – wrongly, I think – as dull and boring. If it isn’t overcooked, fresh plaice has a lovely delicate texture and clean taste-of-the-sea flavour. I often buy a couple of fillets for quick, lone meals. I like it dusted with flour and quickly fried with a salad of young spinach leaves tossed with peas and halved cherry tomatoes and a dressing of lemon juice and olive oil. It’s good, too, with a few rashers of crisp bacon or with a mound of green spring vegetables such as broad beans, green beans and courgettes. Another delicious alternative is to dust fillets with flour, dip them in egg, then into breadcrumbs and fry them quickly in hot oil. This provides a light crunch giving on to the soft, succulent fish.
I’d never heard of megrim sole until I started buying fish in this part of Cornwall. It’s so abundant in these waters that fishing isn’t bound by European quota restrictions. It’s a small to medium flat fish and highly regarded locally, but the jury is out on whether it really measures up against lemon sole, to which it is often compared. I tend to cook it whole, either grilled or in the oven, with plenty of butter or olive oil and lemon. Unlike lemon sole, which can taste dry, dull and woolly, its loose-textured flesh is sweet and clean. Witch or Torbay sole is also prolific in south-westerly waters. It looks and tastes like a small megrim and is only worth eating if it’s very fresh.
Brill is a rounder version of squat and angular turbot. Both have dark brown ‘backs’ and are fringed with a skirt of comparatively long fins. These two fish are highly regarded and expensive, though brill is known as poor-man’s turbot. If you’re pushing the boat out with turbot, be sure to chose a mature, large fish (or buy thick fillets from the middle of a large fish) rather than immature, smaller fish which are sometimes called ‘turbottine’, so that its flavour has had a chance to develop. Turbot is lovely steamed or poached and served with hollandaise, but the favourite way of cooking it at the Fish Store is in memory of La Croisette, a basement restaurant on the Chelsea borders opened by Pierre Martin in the eighties. We used to go regularly for Friday lunch and take Zach and Henry, who were toddlers. Often there were no other customers and Daniel, the French ex-rugby player who managed the place, really enjoyed watching the little blond English boys dealing with plateau de fruits de mer and turbot in champagne sauce.
The market fish stall where I used to shop in Hammersmith when Zach was a baby was the first place I’d ever seen tiny Dover soles, called slip soles. The lady who ran the stall once told me she fried three or four for breakfast, which I found quite impressive at the time. Grilled Dover sole – ideally fresh from the sea via Jake or Royden – is one of my favourite meals. I like it with big, chunky but golden-crisp chips on a separate plate and plenty of lemon to squeeze over the top. Unfortunately, these sleek brown slippers (with both eyes set on the right of their face) are desperately expensive, even in Cornwall where they come inshore to spawn in the spring. The only point to remember when grilling a whole Dover sole is that the flesh is incredibly dense and deep next to the bone, so it takes longer than you might expect.
The fishmonger will gut, trim, clean and fillet any flat fish quicker than you can say ‘Davy’s locker’ but it is as well to know how to do all these little jobs yourself. Flat fish are the easiest fish to fillet. Begin by cutting off all the fins with sharp kitchen scissors. It’s rare for them to have serious scales – Dovers and brill are the exception – but if necessary, scale the fish by running a blunt knife from tail to head, vigorously, up and down in short bursts, until smooth.
Slit the soft belly and remove the intestines with your fingers. I generally leave the head on but that is a matter of preference.
Rinse thoroughly under cold running water and shake, then pat dry with absorbent kitchen paper. To skin the whole fish – fillets can be skinned later – lay the fish on a flat surface and make a small nick in the skin just above the tailbone. Prise it up slightly with knife and fingers, then grip the skin tightly, pulling towards the head, yanking it quickly as if pulling off a plaster, taking care not to tear the fish. Turn the fish and repeat on the other side. Dover sole are traditionally skinned on the dark side only; the skin is glove-tight and you may need to use a cloth to hold it. If the fish is very fresh, you might need a little salt to stop the cloth slipping.
This can be done with the skin intact. Run a sharp knife along the middle of the fish from head to tail, following the line of the backbone on both sides of the spine. Scrape the knife over the bone, cutting from the middle to the side, starting at the head end of the fish, lifting the fillet as you cut. Run the knife round the outer edge and lift off the fillet. Turn over the fish and repeat on the other side.
To remove the skin from a fillet, place it skin-side down on a work surface, make a small slit between skin and fish at the tail end, then run the knife down the fish, pushing down towards the skin while gently but firmly lifting the fillet as you go. It should be done in a swift movement.
Often, when I’m cooking a whole flat fish per person, I don’t bother to remove the skirt of fins, although it would always be done in a restaurant. This should be scraped away from the fish first, before starting to eat, otherwise all the little fin bones get caught up with the fillet.
When eating a whole flat fish, proceed exactly as if filleting it, eating one fillet at a time. When one side is eaten, lift the carcass in one piece and discard rather than attempting to turn the fish.
This is one of the simplest and quickest ways of cooking fillets of plaice or another soft flat fish such as megrim or lemon sole. Cooked this way, the fish is surprisingly satisfying, but a few sprigs of curly parsley fried at the same time are the perfect accompaniment.
Fried parsley always reminds me of Mrs (Laurina) Cornish, who lived along the road from the Fish Store. She was quite old when I first met her, before Zach and Henry were born, and she could remember the Fish Store working as a commercial operation and could recall the sound of the sails of the old luggers flapping in the wind and the wooden masts creaking as they gathered outside the harbour after a day’s fishing and waited for the incoming tide. She had a quaintly poetic turn of phrase and once said that our wind-surfers looked like butterflies bobbing about on the sea. I’d pop in when we were going shopping in Penzance and she once asked me to get her some parsley with the words, ‘I love a bit of fried parsley with my fish for tea.’
2 fresh plaice fillets, skinned
flour for dusting
4 big sprigs of curly parsley
25g butter
½ tbsp vegetable oil
Maldon sea salt and black pepper
½ lemon
Pat the fish dry with absorbent paper, then dust with flour, shaking away any excess. Rinse the parsley and shake dry.
Heat the butter and oil in a frying pan over a moderate heat and when the butter is bubbling lay out the fish. Cook for a minute a side, adding the parsley, which should be fried on both sides, when you turn the fish. It will crisp almost immediately and take on a glassy texture. Transfer to a warmed plate, season with salt and pepper and eat with a generous squeeze of lemon.
If making this for more than one person, cook the fish first, piling the fillets on to a platter with the lemon halves and keep warm in a low oven. Cook the parsley at the last moment.
A lovely way to liven up plaice or other white fish fillets. It takes a moment or two to identify cauliflower in this fluffy, creamy and intriguingly delicious purée because it has none of the usual cabbagey flavour and it is such an unexpected way to serve this snowy-white vegetable.
1 quantity cauliflower cream, see page 249
100g crustless white bread
25g flat-leaf parsley leaves
3 tbsp freshly grated Parmesan
4 tbsp flour
2 eggs
8 plaice fillets
4 tbsp vegetable oil
Prepare the cauliflower cream before you start work on the fish.
Tear the bread into chunks and place in the food processor together with the parsley. Blitz to make green crumbs. Add the grated Parmesan and pulse briefly to mix thoroughly. Tip the crumbs into a cereal bowl. Sift the flour into a second bowl and whisk the eggs in a third bowl. Halve the plaice fillets lengthways and dip each one first in the flour, shaking off any excess, then in the egg and, finally, press into the crumbs. Lay out on a plate as you go. If necessary, the fish can be kept in this state, covered with clingfilm, in the fridge for an hour or so without harm.
Fry the fish in batches in hot oil for a couple of minutes a side until nicely crusty and cooked through. Rest on kitchen paper, then keep warm on a platter in a low oven while you finish cooking the remaining fillets.
Serve the hot cauliflower cream draped with four green fillets and accompany with buttered new potatoes.
Never underestimate the impact of serving familiar food in unfamiliar ways. Fish, for example, cooked in a foil parcel always goes down well and people love the excitement of opening their own parcel. Plaice and lemon sole both have a delicate flavour and tender texture that contrast wonderfully well with al dente courgettes. Together, they achieve an interesting tension. The combined subtlety is lifted by the fresh, clean flavour of lemon and a heady, aromatic scent of thyme. Olive oil unites everything. It is a simple and very special combination. The dish doesn’t really need an accompaniment but very crisp oven chips, served on a separate plate to avoid sogginess, would be great.
4 pieces of foil, each approx. 30cm square
4 tbsp olive oil
8 plaice or lemon sole fillets
4 small or 2 medium–large courgettes
1 small unwaxed lemon
1 tbsp chopped thyme
salt and freshly milled black pepper
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Pre-heat the oven to 400°F/200°C/gas mark 6. Lay out the four sheets of foil and smear the middle with some of the olive oil. Arrange one fillet of fish on each square. Trim the courgettes. Slice small courgettes on the slant into three or four thick pieces approximately 1cm thick. If using larger courgettes, cut them in half lengthways first. If they contain seeds – some larger courgettes begin to look like a cucumber inside, with pronounced seeds – use a teaspoon to scrape them out. Cut them on the slant into chunky slices. Remove the zest from the lemon with a potato peeler in small wafer-thin scraps. Cover the fish with a share of the courgettes and scatter with the thyme and lemon zest. Season with salt and pepper and about half of the remaining olive oil. Make a sandwich with the other fish fillet. Smear with the last of the olive oil. Parcel up the fish and courgettes loosely but securely. Place on a baking sheet or directly on to a high shelf in the oven and cook for 20 minutes. Cut the lemon into four wedges. Serve the parcels on warmed dinner plates and let people open their own parcel. Before eating, splash with the extra virgin olive oil and squeeze over a wedge of lemon.
When the Bombay Brasserie opened in 1982 – Henry was a baby and I was a full-time restaurant critic – London hadn’t seen anything like it. Huge and themed to convey the opulence of the British Raj, it was decorated with carved chests, lamps and other artefacts imported from the famous Chor Bazaar in Bombay. At dinner they offered valet parking and cocktails. There was a live pianist. This was an Indian restaurant to get dressed up for. The elegantly presented food was a clever mix of wholesome Punjabi fare and elaborate Moghul cuisine alongside more familiar tandoori dishes. Eighteen months later, they added a large conservatory and lined its walls with giant palms and elaborate rattan furniture. During the eighties – the real start of London’s restaurant boom – fashionable places would give their regulars a customized diary enhanced with full-colour plugs for other ‘in’ places. It was in one such that I came across this recipe. At the Bombay Brasserie they wrap the fish in banana leaves and serve it as a starter. These days, they call it by its Parsee name of patrani macchi. On early menus it was made with pomfret, but any flat white fish fillets would be perfect. Two fillets per person are about right for a main course when eaten with rice, but if you’re feeding bigger appetites allow three or four. Creamed coconut, incidentally, which is what I used instead of freshly grated coconut, is sold in a block that resembles frozen lard and is widely available. It crumbles easily in the hand and helps bind all the other ingredients of the spicy green paste that is smeared on the fish. Any left over will keep for a week. This treatment works with fillets of cod, haddock, huss and megrim, but leave thick fillets flat rather than folding as described for thin fillets of plaice or lemon sole.
4 garlic cloves
50g fresh ginger
3 green chillies
75g bunch coriander
20g bunch mint
2 tsp ground cumin
approx. 900g plaice, whiting or cod fillets
3 limes or lemons, to serve
You will also need tinfoil
Pre-heat the oven to 400°F/200°C/gas mark 6 or half-fill a steamer pan of water and put on to boil. Grate or crumble the creamed coconut into a mixing bowl. Moisten with 100–150ml hot water, stirring to make a thick cream. Peel and coarsely chop the garlic and ginger. Trim and split the chillies, scrape away the seeds. Coarsely chop. Place coriander, mint leaves, garlic, ginger, chillies, cumin and coconut cream in the bowl of a food processor. Blitz for several minutes to make a stiff green paste. Cut twelve pieces of tinfoil approx. 24cm square. If necessary, remove the skin from the fish fillets by holding the narrowest end with one hand and quickly running a sharp knife between fish and skin. If there is a line of bones running down the fillet, cut them out in a strip.
Lightly oil the centre of six pieces of foil. Generously pile the green paste on to the fish, then fold the ends together, pressing to make a sandwich. Divide between the six oiled sheets of foil. Cover with a second sheet, folding the sides to make a secure but not overly tight parcel. Place on a baking sheet or, if steaming the fish, lay the parcels in the steamer, place over boiling water and cover with the lid. Bake or steam for 15 minutes. Serve the parcels with boiled basmati rice (see page 73) and half a lime or lemon.
You can buy good fish and chips in Mousehole, but the batter is strictly traditional. This batter, from Elizabeth David’s A Book of Mediterranean Food, first published in 1950 when eggs were still rationed, produces a crisp and light crust and is rare among batters in that the flavour doesn’t intrude and it keeps its crispness perfectly. The only important point is to make sure that the oil is hot enough and you don’t bring the temperature down by trying to cook too many pieces at a time. The batter will keep perfectly for 24 hours.
8 plaice, whiting or sole fillets
oil for deep frying
2 limes to serve
for the batter:
100g flour plus extra for dusting
salt and pepper
3 tbsp oil or melted butter
150ml tepid water
1 egg white
for the salad:
2 tsp sweet chilli sauce
1 tbsp Thai fish sauce
1 tbsp lime juice
4 medium carrots
4 spring onions
small bunch coriander
First make the batter. Mix the flour, a pinch of salt and oil or butter, adding the water gradually and keeping the batter smooth and liquid. Make the batter at least 30 minutes before you need it, adding the beaten egg white at the last moment. Whisk the egg white until bubbly but not firm. Fold it into the batter.
Next make the salad. Mix together the chilli sauce, fish sauce and lime juice in a bowl. Trim and scrape the carrots and slice into match-sticks. Trim the spring onions and slice the white and green parts very thinly. Stir both into the dressing. Finely chop the coriander – you want a couple of heaped tablespoons – and add that too.
Divide the fillets in half lengthways. Pat the pieces dry, dust with flour and shake away the excess. Heat sufficient oil to completely immerse the fish until very hot but not smoking. Cooking four pieces of fish at a time, dip into the batter and plunge into the hot oil – they should be crusty and golden within a couple of minutes. Drain on kitchen paper while you cook the rest. Serve the tempura with the salad and a lime wedge.
This is without doubt one of my favourite fast, no-fuss fish suppers. It is as easy to make for one as it is to prepare for half a dozen people. All you need is a fillet of white fish per person, a bag of frozen petits pois, a lemon and some of your best olive oil. Presentation makes the dish, and by serving the fish over the peas with olive oil flashed over the food in a Jamie Oliver–River Café kind of a way, it looks smart, fashionable and very tempting.
When I make this for a home-alone supper, I usually fry the fish, cooking it with a dusting of flour to get a lovely crusty, golden finish. If I’m making it for more than two people, it is easier to cook the fish in the oven. An extra advantage of oven-cooking the fish means that the gorgeous cooking juices can be stirred into the peas. Another neat presentational idea, which takes the flavours in a different but very complementary direction, is to drape a vine of grilled or roasted cherry tomatoes over the top. Either way, you won’t need potatoes or any other accompaniment – apart, that is, from a glass of your favourite dry white wine – because the farinaceous quality of the peas and the richness of the olive oil make the dish surprisingly satisfying.
2 tbsp olive oil
4 large fillets lemon sole, cod, haddock or huss
2 large lemons
salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 branches of cherry tomatoes on the vine (optional)
750g frozen petits pois
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Pre-heat the oven to 400°F/200°C/gas mark 6 and put a large pan of water on to boil. Smear a small oven dish with half the olive oil and lay out the fish fillets. Squeeze over the juice of half one lemon and finish with the second tablespoon of olive oil. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Place the dish in the hot oven and cook, checking the thickest part of the fillets, for 8–12 minutes or until just done. If including tomatoes, put them in a separate oven dish, smear with olive oil, salt and pepper and cook at the same time on a higher shelf.
Add salt and peas to the boiling water and boil for a couple of minutes until tender. Drain the peas and return them to the pan. Carefully drain the fish cooking juices into the peas, stir well, crushing them slightly, then spoon the peas on to four warmed plates. Drape a fillet of fish over the peas, adding a spray of tomatoes if using. Finish the dish with a generous splash of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice. Serve with a lemon wedge.
I usually think of making this when there is rice left over from the day before, but it is such a lovely dish that it’s worth cooking rice specially. It’s another of those dishes that scales up or down as required and is great for a dinner party because all the work can be done in advance and there’s very little washing-up.
300g basmati rice
450ml cold water
3 big garlic cloves
generous pinch of salt
4 tbsp vegetable oil
8 tbsp Kikkoman soy sauce
2 tbsp toasted sesame oil
10cm knob of fresh ginger
4 small pak choi, approx. 75g each, or 300g green cabbage or spring greens
4 white fish fillets such as plaice, lemon sole, haddock or cod, approx. 175g each, skinned
you will also need 8 sheets of tinfoil, approx. 35cm square
Pre-heat the oven to 450°F/230°C/gas mark 8.
Rinse the rice until the water runs clear. Place in a lidded pan with 450ml cold water and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat to very low. Cover the pan and cook for 10 minutes. Leave for 10 minutes without removing the lid.
Meanwhile, peel and chop the garlic. Sprinkle with salt and crush to a paste. Place in a bowl with 1 tablespoon of oil, the soy sauce and toasted sesame oil. Whisk together thoroughly.
Peel, then grate the ginger. Separate the pak choi leaves or shred the cabbage or spring greens. Rinse and shake dry.
Lay out four sheets of foil and use the remaining oil to smear the middle section. Fork up the cooked rice and spoon into the middle of the oiled foil, making piles approximately the size of the fish fillet. Top with half the ginger, then all the pak choi or cabbage, and lay the fish over the top. Sprinkle with more ginger. Give the sauce a final whisk and pour over the top. Cover with foil and fold over the edges to make a secure and snug but not overly tight package.
Place on a baking sheet in the middle of the hot oven. Cook for 15 minutes. Serve the packages on plates with chopsticks or forks.
NB If using cold, cooked rice, allow an extra 5 minutes’ cooking.
This simple and classic technique – à la meunière means ‘miller’s wife style’ – can be applied to any sole.
flour for dusting
salt and pepper
4 lemon sole fillets, dark skin removed
75g butter
1 lemon
½ tbsp finely chopped parsley
Season the flour with a generous pinch of salt on a large plate or similar. Rest each side of the fish fillets, one at a time, in the flour and shake to remove any excess. Melt half the butter in a frying pan placed over a medium heat. As soon as it begins to bubble, arrange the fillets of fish in the pan. Cook for a couple of minutes a side until a light golden colour, then transfer the fish to two warmed plates.
Add the remaining butter to the pan. Swirl it around as it melts, continuing until it turns a light golden-brown and begins to smell nutty. Squeeze the juice from half the lemon into the butter, swirl it around again and pour it over the fish. Scatter the chopped parsley over the top and serve with a wedge of lemon.
If serving this with potatoes, have them ready and keeping warm before you start cooking the fish. Chips, cooked crisp and dry, would be my first choice, but chive game chips (see page 218) or new potatoes would be good in a different sort of way.
75g soft or melted butter
2 Dover sole, 350–450g each or 1 large Dover sole, approx. 600g, cleaned and skinned, head on
salt and black pepper
2 lemons
Pre-heat the grill to its highest setting. Cover the grill pan with tinfoil and smear generously with butter. Lay the fish on the buttered tinfoil and smear the exposed side generously with butter. Season with salt and pepper. Grill 5cm away from the heat source until the fish is firm and cooked through. Allow 6–10 minutes a side, depending on the size and thickness of the fish. It should not be bloody next to the bone and the flesh should be firm and white, juicy and not dry. Carefully turn the fish, smear with more butter, season with salt and pepper and cook for a further 6–10 minutes until done.
Serve the fish whole or tease off the fillets on to warmed plates, lining them up to cover the plate. Cut the lemons in half lengthways and serve with the fish.
Lovely. Serve with new potatoes.
4 turbot steaks, preferably middle cut, on the bone, approx. 250g each
for the court bouillon:
2 carrots
1 large onion
1 celery stick
2 cloves
2 bay leaves
a few sprigs of thyme
1 tbsp salt
2 tbsp white wine vinegar or juice ½ lemon
1.5 litres water
for the sauce:
3 shallots
300ml champagne or dry white wine
300ml fish stock
300ml thick cream
3 tbsp finely chopped chives
salt and pepper
lemon juice to taste
Trim, scrape and slice the carrots. Peel and coarsely chop the onion. Slice the celery. Place all the ingredients for the court bouillon in a pan with the water and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Slip in the turbot steaks, bring back to the boil, switch off the heat, cover and leave for 10 minutes. Remove with a fish slice and drain on kitchen paper. Meanwhile, make the sauce. Peel and finely chop the shallots and place in a pan with the champagne and fish stock. Bring to the boil and reduce by half. Add the cream, return to the boil and cook until the sauce thickens to a coating consistency. Add the finely chopped chives and adjust the seasoning with salt, pepper and lemon juice. Skin the fish, place on warmed plates and pour the sauce over.