The ridiculous things you hear on TV. Good for a laugh. The other day on the programme called Master Chef, the three finalists competing for the title, were taken to Italy to cook some traditional dishes. One of the programme's chief irritations is the sententiously spoken commentary seeking but failing to add drama to the proceedings. From this we learn among other items of interest that Italy is "a cornerstone of Italian cuisine".
Tonight a fish called witch, a flat fish and a sort of sole, which I have never eaten except when it is very small and described as flounder. This one is big and fat, enough for the two of us. "Fry, poach or steam," says Alan Davidson in North Atlantic Sea Food. I shall bake it I think.
We've acquired our usual state of addiction to Masterchef that always takes hold by this stage in the proceedings, though it amazes me really as the weeks leading up to it seem interminable; every time you thought things might be moving along it seemed to return to square one again. They must audition for that portentous commentary style, I think this is a new one but she's evidently seeking to emulate the last, who used to drive Tom near apoplectic with annoyance.
I used to cycle a few miles expressly to buy witch (and other fish) from a fishmonger in South Petherton in Somerset, very largely because the fishmonger in question was rather charming, though his fish was good too. I think it's also called megrim, and I used to bake it with a dash of cider and a handful of breadcrumbs. I didn't know it was a big flounder. Fish are a cornerstone of fish cookery, you know.
Lucy's comment reminds me why I never progressed beyond the basic dishes: a dash of cider, a handful of breadcrumbs. What no pinch, cupful, soupcon, etc? Cooks need to be careful. Doctors, who used to be the greatest obfuscators, are no longer allowed to get away with the professional veil. And have become truculent as a result. "Just tell me the symptoms," snarled my GP recently. "Leave the diagnosis to me."
I felt like saying I'd just detected a case of clay feet.
Lucy We think the right person won Master Chef. Tom's fury with the voice and what it says is echoed here.
The witch was excellent. Fish names often being local are sometimes confusing. One man's dab is another man's flounder, one man's witch another's megrim. I often wondered about megrim. So thanks.
Robbie Some chefs like some doctors can be horribly doctrinaire. It seems to me that both instances should be avoided.
Yeah, we were roo'in for Na'alie too!
Post a Comment