So as you know I’m involved with the Fish is the Dish project, a fabulous endeavour from Seafish.org encouraging families to eat more fish.  Basically I get challenged every couple of weeks to cook with a different fish ( love it when my delivery man appears at the door clutching my parcel – it’s like a fish version of Christmas).  This week it was beautiful fillets of undyed smoked haddock from Delish Fish.  The fillets were firm and meaty, and not at all yellow (remembering the smoked haddock of my youth here).

I fiddled with this recipe quite a bit, but I have to tell you, the end result was fabulous, and was woofed down by every member of the family – even the curry-hating Death Wish Dude.  English Dad isn’t sure he could eat it for breakfast (I certainly could), but it’s an easy and nutritious supper and would make a fab brunch if you have guests or over Christmas:

 Kedgeree

450g smoked haddock

Milk

2 bay leaves

1 onion

25g butter

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp turmeric

1 pinch crushed chilli

350g basmati  rice

4 hard boiled eggs

Chopped coriander

Firstly, boil the kettle (the man from British Gas told me never to heat water on the stove – apparently it’s much more energy efficient to use kettle-heated water!)

So lay the haddock fillets in a nice heavy frying pan and pour over enough milk to just cover them.  Add in the bay leaves and quartered onion.  Poach for about 8 minutes or until the fish is beginning to flake.

In the mean time, pour boiling water over 4 eggs in a saucepan and place on the heat. They’ll take 8 minutes too.

Once cooked, remove the fish, cover and keep warm in a low oven.  Reserve the cooking milk in a jug, topping up to 600ml with stock.

Chuck out the bay leaves, but keep the onions and chop them as finely as your burning fingers will allow.  Fry them in the butter for a few minutes until softened, then add in the spices.

Pop in the rice, stir around until coated and then add the milky/stock liquid.  Bring to the boil, then cover and simmer for about 15 minutes.

Then stir in the flaked haddock (and add frozen peas if you’re using them) and cook for about another 5 minutes or until the rice is just cooked.  Keep an eye on the liquid. You might need to add a bit more stock.

To serve, top with the boiled eggs.  And I think a nice sprinkling of coriander would be perfect.

Enjoy!

For more information on the Fish is the Dish campaign, go to their website, check out their Facebook page, or find them on Twitter @fishisthedish.

I’m REALLY enjoying this Fish is the Dish project.  They send a ‘fish parcel’ every couple of weeks and I get to cook with all sorts of really beautiful fresh fish.

This week, it was some gorgeous fresh trout from a company called Dawnfresh.  The colours were absolutely amazing.  We all gathered round oohing and ahhing at the beautiful skin (and then had a big family argument about how to cook it).

I won (obviously) when I found this gorgeous recipe over at BritishTrout.co.uk - it’s basically fillets of trout with a lime and caper butter sauce.  It was so easy and quick, and absolutely delicious.  I changed it about as we didn’t have any fresh herbs, which I think would enhance it even more, but do give it a try anyway, it was yum scrum:

Trout with a lime and caper butter sauce

6 trout fillets, seasoned

125g butter

2 tbsp capers, rinsed

2 tbsp lime juice

So basically just use a knob of the butter to gently fry the trout, skin side down.  It cooks really fast, so you only need to give it about 3 or 4 minutes before you flip it over and cook on the other side for about a minute.

Then just remove the fillets and keep them warm.  Pop the rest of the butter into the pan, and add in the capers  and the lime juice.  Once the sauce is all lovely and foamy, pour it over the fish and serve.

Simples!

My twist: we ate our trout with some lovely baby roasted potatoes sprinkled with rosemary salt, and also some roasted parsnips – the sweetness went really well with the vinegary capers.

For more information on the Fish is the Dish campaign, go to their website, check out their Facebook page, or find them on twitter @fishisthedish.

I’ve already told you about the lovely chaps at Seafish – they work really hard promoting great quality, sustainable seafood, and their campaign, Fish is the Dish, is all about encouraging us all to eat more fish and the website is a fabulous resource for recipes, cooking tips and advice about choosing and cooking fish.

They’d noticed the Sea Bass debacle, and invited me up to Billingsgate Seafood School at the famous fish market, to teach me some fishy skillz.  The course was a special one as we were being taught by none other than Allan Pickett, Head Chef of the beautiful Plateau Restaurant in Canada Place, in the very heart of the Docklands.

Allan was a brilliant teacher.  We warmed to him straight away as he abandoned the teaching ‘stage’ at the front of the kitchen to come and work next to us at the workstations.  First of all we were presented with a whole Sea Bass and a scary scraper-contraption and had a good old go at descaling.  This was hilarious as scales were flying everywhere.  I found several scales down my cleavage that night, alarmingly…

Next, Allan took us through filleting the Sea Bass.  It really is all about technique (as the actress said to the bishop), pressing down firmly on the flesh ‘opens up’ the fillet as you gently cut the flesh away from the bones.  It’s a bit gruesome when you have to break the heads off after you’ve cut round them, yes, but it’s also fascinating, and there’s a real sense of satisfaction when you’re left with two neat fillets at the end of the process.

After we’d finished the Sea Bass, we moved onto the Plaice.  These ugly mothers have two larger fillets on the top side, and two smaller on the underside.  I found this a bit more tricky, as the fillets are thin anyway – a bit too much enthusiasm while you’re cutting and you can find that there’s hardly anything left!

After the filleting, we got down to the cooking.  Here are the very simple, and very delicious, recipes we used:

Shallow fried Plaice fillets with French beans and almonds, with nut brown butter sauce

1 Plaice (per person)

Flour, for dusting

Salt and pepper

80g butter

60g French beans, blanched in boiling salted water

10g almonds (toasted then chopped)

Fillet the Plaice (or ask your fishmonger to do it), then skin as well.  Season the flour well then dust each fillet, tapping away the excess.

Heat a little vegetable oil in a pan, then shallow fry the Plaice fillets (we were taught to fry them on the presentation side until golden and NOT to mess with them).  Flip over briefly to make sure the other side is just cooked through.

Put the fillets on a warm plate then add in the butter to the pan, swirling around until it’s bubbling and beginning to brown.  Pop in the beans and almonds, just to warm them through, then spoon the whole lot over the cooked Plaice fillets.

Roast fillet of Sea Bass with a sauce vierge

1 whole Sea Bass, well scaled and filleted

300g new potatoes, cooked then peeled

1 punnet red or yellow cherry tomatoes

1/2 lemon, juiced

1/2 bunch chives

1/2 bunch chervil or parsley

125ml good quality olive oil

30g pitted black olives, sliced lengthways

Salt and pepper

Heat a pan then add a little vegetable oil.  Once hot, add in the Sea Bass fillets carefully and cook slowly on the skin side until crisp and nearly cooked through.

Meanwhile, slice the cooked potatoes and sauté in butter in another pan until brown.

Cut the tomatoes in half and grill until just warmed through and starting to soften.

Spoon the potatoes onto the middle of a warmed plate.  Quickly flip the fish over in the pan just to make sure the other side is cooked through, then put the hot fish on top of the potatoes, and arrange the cherry tomatoes around the plate.

Mix the olive oil with a little lemon juice, pour into the hot pan.  Add in the chopped herbs and olives.  Warm through and pour over the dish.

And that’s it!  The evening went so quickly I was actually really disappointed when it ended.  We had a chance to sit and chat while we ate our dishes with a glass of wine, which was really nice.

The dishes were both delicious and I really feel ready to buy a whole fish and have a go myself at home.  Remember, though, your fishmonger will always fillet any fish for you, so don’t feel you can’t ask.

Massive thanks to Jo at Seafish for arranging my fab day out, and to the lovely staff at Billingsgate, and the ever-patient Chef Allan Pickett,

You know when you write up a whole recipe, then the internet gremlins get to work over the weekend and delete it all? Yes, that.

Ah well, I’ve blown my nose, wiped my tears, and here’s my second attempt at telling you all about our spooky Halloween fishy supper. I was sent a lovely, fresh box of coley and haddock from the lovely chaps at Seafish over the weekend, and challenged to make them as spooky as possible. Not easy, especially when you’re somewhat challenged in the creativity department, but here’s how it went:

You will need:

500g firm, white fish

250g breadcrumbs (this was a bit much actually, 200g would be fine)

80g finely grated Parmesan cheese

300g fresh parsley

Salt and pepper

200g plain flour

1 large egg

Splash of milk

So whizz up a couple of slices of bread in the food processor, then add in the Parmesan and parsley (I whizzed it all together and it was fine).  Season generously.

Now, you need to assemble your eggy wash department.  Grab three bowls, and in the first one put the flour, in the next the egg and splash of milk and in the third, the breadcrumbs.

Get your production line rolling by slicing the fish into nice fat fingers, then placing them into the flour, then the eggy wash, and finally the breadcrumbs.  Arrange them on a buttered (or non stick) baking tray, and bake at 180/gas 4 for around 10 to 15 minutes (you don’t want to overcook the fish – it needs to stay lovely and moist).

For suitable Halloween spookiness, I served my ‘severed fingers’ with olive tapenade (I let it down with a little olive oil) but I’ll be honest, it didn’t go down well.  It would be much better with a quick homemade tartare sauce made with mayo, a squeeze of lemon and some chopped capers.

And the verdict? Gorgeous.  Everyone loved the fish fingers and they were quick and easy to make, with soft, delicate fish and a lovely savoury crust.  Yum!

Happy Halloween!

For more information on Fish is the dish, click here!

So English Dad has a large Asda near his work and often drops in for random stuff like all the various pills, potions and herbal whatnots he pops every morning for his bones and his joints and his whatevers (‘what? I’m getting old’), prune juice (remind me to tell you about the prune juice incident, it’s a cracker) and, occasionally, to have a quick perusal of the fish counter.

English Dad loves the fish counter.  This is all good, but it does mean that sometimes he arrives home with a slightly fishy smelling mystery parcel and I have to conjour up some form of accompaniment at short notice.  Recently, his niffy romantic offering was a clutch (a school?) of very fresh and rather lovely sea bass.  Whole sea bass.

They were beautiful: fresh, gleaming, with clear eyes and that lovely ozone scent (and two quid each.  TWO QUID!).  But then it all kind of went downhill.  Well first of all I’d kind of planned hotdogs.  I’d bought baguettes and those horrible ‘lips and arseholes‘ hotdog sausages that come in tins (oh admit it, you love them too).  And suddenly to be presented with an enormous bag of slightly wet scales, glassy eyes and gaping maws kind of threw me off kilter.

I know.  Horribly ungrateful.  His little face fell, bless him.

And then the boys came in.  Comments were made.  Sulky, teenagery kind of comments:

‘Gross!‘

‘Ew.’

‘I thought we were having hotdogs‘

‘They’re looking at me!’

I grabbed the knife with a flourish and announced that I would fillet them.

Big mistake.

The first thing I did was to impale myself through the thumb with the spiky bit at the top of the fin.  Who knew sea bass could be so darned painful?  Cursing and beplastered, I swiftly decided to dispense with the filleting and just chop off their heads and tails.  They were gutted (there were livid - boom boom!), so this seemed the easiest option.

Not so.

Have you ever tried to cut off a sea bass’s head?  It’s hard work.  They’re slippery and there’s nothing to hold on to…  I stabbed myself about another three times until, swearing and sweating, my fishy massacre was complete.  The kitchen was littered with severed heads, and the poor Ninja Cat of Death was so traumatised by all the hacking and the swearing she went to hide under the table.  The beady eyed sea bass heads mocked her as she left: ‘where are you going, you hairy pansy?  Never seen a headless fish before?  Wuss!’

Anyhoo, bloodbath aside, stuffed with parsley and lemon, drizzled with oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper and wrapped in a comfy foil blanket, they were delicious (bake at 180/gas 6 for about 1/2 an hour), served with little oven roasted new potatoes…

They were proclaimed ‘alright, but a bit bony’ by de brevren, (which they were – you just have to be a bit careful), but apart from one near-choking incident and the fact that I was riddled with sea bass spine puncture wounds, it was an altogether delicious dinner.

Tonight, adorned with slightly fishy smelling plasters, I shall be making hotdogs.

So we’re home, then.

The last few days have been a bit of a whirl, what with the drunken madness that was the Cybermummy Conference this weekend, but we’ve got everything into the storage locker (the last few things were just hurled in, to be honest) and my long-suffering mum is looking after us until we move in to our new pad.  The Ninja Cat of Death was very good on the way over – apart from constant growling and moaning in the back of the car, there was no ‘poo of shame‘ like last time.  She was less than impressed to meet my Mum’s cat and dog, but we kept her in for a few days, and now she’s happily roaming the upstairs, coming in and out of the windows like she owns the place, and giving my mum’s poor labrador Ellie a swift backhander if she steps out of line.

So far, from my wishlist, I’ve done the following:

1. Hugged my Dad (and had a nice glass of wine and a chat with him too – AND seen the swish new orange tractor)

2. Hugged Ellie.  She still smells and is still hairy.  But I love her.

3. Been out to dinner with the hubster (we had really great food… and two bottles of wine *cough* – more of this later)

4. Been for cocktails with my lovely friends (what is it with me and ‘the claw’?  Can I not pose for a photo without it?):

5.  Been to Waitrose.  Happy, happy days.  I walked round like a grinning lunatic and came back with all sorts of loveliness.  I’m going to have to rein myself in though or otherwise I’ll be bankrupt by the end of July.  Still, they had some gorgeous prawns and FRESH PEAS!!  I spent a very enjoyable afternoon sitting in the sunshine in my mum’s garden shelling peas and sipping cold white wine.  Bliss.  Oh, and here’s what I made for tea:

Prawn and courgette pasta with fresh peas

Serves 4 generously

Good quality dried pasta (I generally reckon on 100g dried pasta per person)

1 pack large raw prawns

2-3 courgettes

As many peas as you can be bothered to shell

Splosh double cream

So first get your pasta on.  Use the biggest saucepan you have and make the water ‘as salty as the sea’ (not sure where I read that, but I always repeat it to myself when cooking it – I’m a bit sad like that).  Linguine works really well here, but I didn’t have any, so ‘tubes’ it is (I’m sure there’s a technical term for ‘tubes’, but you know what I mean).

When the pasta’s well on the way, slice the courgettes and fry in a heavy-based frying pan with a little garlic-infused rapeseed oil.  When they’re just starting to turn golden, pop in the prawns (you need to be careful not to overcook prawns or they get that horrible crunchy texture).

When the prawns go in, pop the fresh peas in with the pasta (they’ll only take a minute or two).

Now add a generous splosh of cream (double is better as it’s less prone to splitting, but you could use creme fraiche too.  Generously grind over lots of pepper too.

When the pasta and peas are just cooked, drain and add to the frying pan.  Toss everything together and serve immediately, with a good grating of Parmesan.  Noms.

This is also lovely with crab (a pot of fresh stuff or a tin of white crab meat) and some fresh, chopped chilli.

Recently, the lovely chaps at Yeo Valley set me a little challenge: ‘fancy checking out a few of our products and then letting us know how you cook with them?’  ’No probs’, I said, ‘piece of cake’ (see what I did there?).  So yesterday I had a call from a courier.  Not your normal ‘yes, I’m just leaving Dublin – can I have directions?’ (you want an hour’s worth of directions? I hope you’ve got a big notepad), but a lovely friendly one ‘I’ve got some stuff for you from Yeo Valley – it’s refrigerated so I’m going to personally drop it to you now’.  How’s that for service.  When it arrived, my jaw did drop somewhat, though:

Er… wow.

After unpacking (and letting a delighted D next door take her pick), I moved it all into the garage and called Poppy’s Mum to take all the children’s yogurts and those cute little tube things (she looks after two little tinies).  After weighing her down with butter, compote, pots and creme fraiche and fifteen minutes of hysterical laughter when I took the packing peanuts out to the bin and was caught by a gust of wind (it was like a packing peanut snow storm), my fridges looked like this:

Unlike Laura, there will be absolutely no lemon curduments.  Anyone seen looking even remotely suspicious near the lemon curd ones will be prodded with a sharp implement until they back the hell off.  I might even bare my teeth and snarl a bit.  What? They’re my favourite.

So what will I be doing with all this lovely stuff?  Well, I’m going to try Laura’s Lovely Lemon Curd Cheesecake, but with the Mango and Vanilla flavour instead (nomnom) and I’ll be making my talented friend Like Mam Used To Bake‘s gorgeous healthy home-made granola to stir into the little fat free blueberry pots of probiotic yogurt for breakfast.  We’ll be spooning the rhubarb yogurt over a slice of home made lemon and almond cake, and freezing the strawberry one in an ice cube tray to add to smoothies with banana and milk.  Their fruit compote is a new one for me.  I’m going to be popping a spoonful in the middle of some vanilla breakfast muffins this weekend and eating them for breakfast.

I’ll be making Anjum Anand’s Bengali Yogurt Fish (from her I Love Curry book) with the Greek Yogurt (one of my favourite fish recipes) and of course my own easy peasy tandoori chicken with the fat free natural yogurt (yummy in the boy’s packed lunches with crusty ciabatta, a blob of mayo, some rocket leaves and a teaspoon or two of mango chutney).  Talking of Indian food – I’ll also be making my Indian spiced courgette fritters and serving them with a cooling yogurt and mint dressing.

I’ll be using the creme fraiche to make my friend Erica’s gorgeous wild mushroom tagliatelle and the lovely fresh butter for all manner of cakes, biscuits and, of course, for spreading thickly on hot toast.

What an amazing selection.  I’m very impressed.  Now back to guarding the lemon curd.  Go on, just try me.  I dare you.

So, starting as we mean to go on (eating seasonally, I mean), I thought I’d give a mention to the humble mussel. Now it took me a long time to come around to them. Let’s face it, they look kind of like giant orange bogeys, but a few sunny harbourside holidays in Brittany put paid to any illusions about their fabulous taste. Now I’m a convert.

According to Loch Fyne, owners of the most dreamy seafood restaurants known to man, their Scottish Mussels are actually in season from around October to May, after which time it gets all icky with the spawning season.  So right now is the time to rush to your fishmonger for a net or two of these ugly little beauties.  We prefer ours simply done in a white wine and cream broth, but when we were on holiday it was a case of anything goes – we had ‘Caribbean Mussels’, ‘Curried Mussels’, ‘Thai Mussels’, you name it.  It’s easy to bung in whatever extra spices or herbs you fancy so be inventive (and let me know if you come up with something fantastic).

I have to say that the first couple of times I cooked them, I was terrified I was going to murder my family with some horrible, seafood-based plague, but as long as you ask how fresh the mussels are, choose ones that aren’t broken/open you’ll be fine.  Honest.

For a basic mussels with white wine and cream sauce you’ll need:

Couple of nets of fresh mussels (you’ll probably need a couple of kg for 4 people)

Small onion or a couple of shallots, very finely chopped

A big chunk of butter (say 50g)

Large glass white wine

The same amount of double cream

Fresh parsley

To prepare the mussels, firstly bung them into a big bowl of fresh cold water and give them a good rinse.  Now’s the time to throw away any broken ones or any that don’t close completely when you give them a little tap (trust me, they’re dead).  Now work methodically through them, picking off the hairy ‘beard’ bit from every one and giving them a quick scrub to remove any crusty stuff or barnacles.

Now in a big, heavy pan (to which you have a suitable well-fitting lid), melt the butter and gently fry the shallots until they’re translucent.  Turn the heat up a bit and pour in the wine – let it bubble away for a bit, then chuck in the mussels.  Pour over the cream, give them a bit of a stir then pop on the lid and leave it for a few minutes, shaking the pot occasionally.

The mussels really don’t take long to steam – they’re ready when they’re all open (about 3-4 minutes).  Don’t overcook them, if they’re open, they’re done.  Otherwise they’ll be rubbery and nasty.  Sprinkle over the chopped parsley and serve with skinny little french fries (I’m rubbish at these so I buy oven ones).

Et voila.  Bon appetite mes petites!

So me Ma’s visit all passed in a happy blur. Oh, apart from the bit when Bertie disgraced himself by eating her knitting needles- sorry Ma. Oh, and that other bit where Bertie disgraced himself by hopping into her bed and frightening her silly when she returned from a nocturnal trip to the loo – sorry again Ma. And yesterday I found myself dropping her at the airport again.

Still, no point dwelling on the negatives so I took myself off to the Pavilions in Swords. It’s not huge, but I like it because of TK Maxx. What an excellent shop. It doesn’t matter if you don’t feel in the mood for trying stuff on (I was eating a Creme Egg at the time – ’tis amazing the amount of men that stare at you when you’re trying to get the last bit of gooey stuff out of the bottom of the egg) because there are all sorts of other rubbish to rummage about in: kitchen stuff, books, cushions, you name it. I came away with a lovely lime green Le Creuset jug, a Typhoon vintage pink pie dish, a pink enamel storage tin and a very handy stainless steel strainer (small enough holes to keep at least some of my rice from ending up in the sink), plus change from thirty Euro. Not bad eh? I dropped into Dunnes on the way back and got some of their nice frozen prawns and their free range chicken (well done Dunnes – excellent selection!!) along with some baguettes. Hubby’s mate, J, is still staying (Bertie’s biscuit pusher) and I thought I’d do a couple of nice things that we can bung into the baguettes with some rocket. First up will be the yummy little chicken cakes that I always do (heaven with some nice sweet chilli sauce and SO easy, and also I’ll do some tamarind prawns:

Chicken Cakes

Couple of raw chicken breasts or prawns (must be raw or you’ll get a big wet mess)
1 medium red chilli, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 large spring onion, chopped
1 egg, beaten
1 tsp soy sauce
1 tbsp cornflour
2 tbsp Coriander leaves, chopped
Pinch of salt

So basically, whiz all the ingredients in a blender. I reserve the cornflour until last so you can see how thick it is – it’s amazing how it differs between batches – you need it thick enough to stay together in hot oil. So you can either make patties or just dollop tablespoons of the mixture into a half inch of hot oil until golden. This works just as well with prawns when you can also spread it onto toast, press on some sesame seeds and fry until the prawns are pink and the sesame seeds lightly tanned.

Tamarind Prawns

1 pack prawns, defrosted, or fresh ones if you’re that lucky – the bigger the better
2 cloves garlic, grated
1 red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
Juice of ½ lime
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp brown sugar or honey
1 tbsp oil
1 tsp tamarind paste

So pop the prawns into a bowl with the rest of the ingredients so that they marinate for a while, then bung them straight into a hot wok until they’re pink and gorgeous and the sauce is reduced and sticky. Heaven sprinkled with sliced spring onion on noodles, rice, or just wodged into a baguette with some mayo a la English Towers. Excuse me while I wipe my drool from the keyboard

Happy Boxing Day! Or Happy St Stephen’s Day, depending on where you reside. I hope, dear reader, that your Christmas Day was as happy and mad as ours. The smalls didn’t get up until 8am (very satisfying, especially as Lou next door was up at 5am – no, of course I’m not smirking). Hubby and I had next door round for drinks and proceeded to get very happy (proof in itself that you can leave a turkey for an hour and a half in foil with no ill effects – it was certainly rested), ending in an unfeasibly giggly Christmas dinner that was enjoyed by all (oh, apart from the chestnuts but that’s another story). I got some lubly presents, including a beautiful heart necklace from Hubby with a pink diamond in the middle, and more cookery books than you can shake a stick at. Small Eric Clapton and Smaller Slash got the guitars of their dreams. The rest of the day passed in an ear splitting blur of riffs and jagged feedback. Bliss.

Anyhoo, digressing. To the baked salmon. There’s a great fishmonger near us (bit of a rarity these days I’d say) who’ll cut you the biggest fleshiest chunks of salmon that make perfect baked parcels. We usually wrap them in baking paper or foil, but if you’re feeling flash, you can wrap them in pastry too and they’re divine.

For the salmon:

4 large chunks of salmon fillet (boneless)
½ pack butter
1 fennel bulb
Dill
1 onion
Salt and pepper

Preheat your oven to 200/gas whatever (6?). So slice your fennel and onion very finely, melt a large knob of butter in the pan, add a pinch of salt and some ground black pepper and cook them slowly until they’re translucent (they don’t need to be done, they’ll get another 20 mins in the oven). Cut four large squares of greaseproof paper or foil, pile a spoonful of the onion/fennel mixture into the middle of each square, then plonk your salmon on top. Add a sprig of dill and an extra knob of butter, maybe a bit more seasoning, then fold up into a parcel and plonk onto a baking tray. Bake for 20 – 30 minutes (depending on the thickness of your salmon) and serve, with a flourish, still in the parcels, so your guests get treated to a lovely fenelly facial sauna as they open their parcel.

If you’re feeling flash, knock up some pastry:

9 oz plain flour
5 oz cold butter, cubed
1 egg, beaten

First, mix the flour and butter in a food processor, slowly adding the egg until it comes together (or do it the tried and tested English Mum way, which is to shove it all in then add the whole egg and hope for the best – if it’s a bit sticky add some more flour). Or to do it the old fashioned way, rub the butter in to the flour, and bring together with the egg. Squish your pastry into a flat lump and cool in the fridge for half an hour (or however long – it’ll keep in there). Then just roll out your pastry, cut into squares, then dollop your mixture in and wrap your salmon with the pastry as you would a parcel. One word of warning – if you opt for the pastry version, be less generous with the knob of butter on top or you’ll end up with a very soggy bottom (and who needs a soggy bottom eh?). After I’ve done the first wrap, I roll the edges with the rolling pin and discard any extra before bringing them to the top, which both seals them and ensures they’re not too thick. These will take about half an hour. Serve and bedazzle!