Nick Fisher
LATIN NAME
Psetta maxima, Scophthalmus maximus
SEASONALITY
Avoid wild turbot April–August when spawning
HABITAT
Northeast Atlantic; the majority are caught in the North Sea
MCS RATING
Farmed 2; wild 3–4
REC MINIMUM SIZE
30cm
MORE RECIPES
Roast brill with air-dried ham and parsley sauce; Plaice with rosemary, caper and anchovy butter
SOURCING
One illustration of just how highly the turbot is revered is the fact that it has merited the design and manufacture of its very own cooking vessel. Most fish are cooked in a generic pan. The turbot demanded the creation of the turbotière, a turbot-shaped steamer, ornately crafted out of copper and brass, to be used exclusively for the preparation of this king of the flatties.
But no one needs a turbotière. Roasting, poaching, poach-frying or even simple pan-frying are all perfect ways to render your turbot tasty. In all honesty, unless you catch your own, or have unlimited cash, you’re unlikely to be dining on turbot often enough to need a special pan anyway. Nor should you. Wild stocks are not well managed so turbot should remain a treat. The best turbot are caught using lines. Others are caught using static nets and bottom trawls but, as both these methods can damage fragile marine habitats and other wildlife, I would not recommend them.
Increasingly, turbot are also being farmed. They need to eat fishmeal, which remains one of the thornier problems of aquaculture but, because they are grown in huge indoor tanks, rather than the open sea, the overall environmental impact of farming them is lower than for, say, salmon.
Turbot are often cut into tranches: cross-section slices of the body – or more often, one half of the body – including the bone. I love a tranche because the muscular flakes of flesh are exposed and, when cooked, begin to separate and leak out those heavenly high-end fish flavours.
The thick skin, which peels off easily when cooked, is rubbery and tough, with tubercles (little, gnarly bumps) rather than scales. The flesh, though, is legendary: meaty, muscly and flaky, with hints of lobster and scallop, and notes of goat’s cheese and coconut. It will make your eyes lose focus as your heart skips a beat. Famous and fabulous though it is, there is nothing too difficult about cooking turbot – except maybe not cooking it for too long, and affording it.
TURBOT WITH WHITE WINE, LEMON ZEST AND THYME
Chunky tranches on the bone are cooked with just a few complementary flavours to enhance the magnificent flavour of this fish. If you’re lucky enough to have a whole turbot, you can cook it the same way, giving it around 30 minutes’ roasting. It’s a winning dish for brill, too. Serves 4
4 thick tranches of turbot, on the bone (180–200g each)
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
2 tsp roughly chopped thyme or lemon thyme leaves
A pinch of dried chilli flakes (optional)
2 tbsp olive or rapeseed oil
25g butter
A small glass of dry white wine
Sea salt and black pepper
Preheat the oven to 220°C/Fan 200°C/Gas 7.
Season the fish all over with salt and pepper. Combine the lemon zest, thyme leaves and chilli, if using, with a few drops of the oil, then rub this mix all over the fish.
Put the tranches in a roasting dish. Dot with the butter and trickle over the remaining oil. Pour the wine into the base of the dish (not over the fish) and roast in the oven for 10–12 minutes.
Take the tranches out of the oven, baste with the herby, winey juices, then cover loosely with foil and leave somewhere warm to rest for 4–5 minutes, by which time they should be just cooked and coming away from the bone easily. Serve the tranches with their delicious juices, chips and a salad.