Planked Salmon with Fennel Two Ways and Burnt Aubergine Puree

Cowie has a long and distinguished history of buying me awesome cooking gifts, not to mention having built Cassius as well. So when she gave me a collection of cedar planks for Christmas I got giddily excited.

Planking is an old fashioned culinary technique where you cook your meat or fish on a dampened plank of wood, such as cedar, over hot coals. The wet wood emits puffs of steam and smoke that gently encourage the flesh above to yield whilst providing a smoky backdrop. (For more in depth information about planking have a look at this site or buy this book.)

The easiest, and possibly best, thing to cook on a plank is a fillet of salmon. You land up with an indecently moist piece of warm smoky fish that will make you wonder why you’ve been eating boring old poached or grilled salmon for all those years.

We cooked this with a fennel salad which we cevichified from Mark Hix’s book and some burnt aubergine puree that we bastardised from Ottolonghi. And all in a Cornish field with a small BBQ.

Ingredients:

1 cedar plank
1 salmon fillet big enough for two with the skin on
Salt
Pepper
Lemon zest
2 aubergines
2 cloves of garlic
2 tablespoons of yoghurt
Olive oil
1 fennel bulb
Mint
Juice of 2 lemons

Method:

Soak your cedar plank in water for anywhere between 2 and 12 hours. This will stop it burning.

Slice the fennel as thinly as possible. We didn’t have a mandolin on the camp site, surprisingly, so just make sure you’ve got a very sharp knife and haven’t drunk your own body weight in gin and tonic by this stage. Season with salt and pepper and then douse in the juice of 2 lemons.

Light your BBQ. When the coals have stopped flaming throw on two aubgerines and pierce with your knife. Let them burn, Ottolenghi-style, for 20 minutes or until steam is spurting out of the aubergines and the flesh is soft. Remove and leave to cool. Then scoop out the flesh, mash, and mix in the yoghurt, more salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon. You’ll be adding some smoked garlic later…

Descale the salmon and remove any pin bones. Then rinse in cold water. Pat dry. And then season like there’s no tomorrow. Add a few curls of lemon zest.

Place the plank on the coals and when it starts to smoke lay the salmon skin side up on the wood along with 2 cloves of garlic. Add the fennel to the grill and close the lid. Inspect after 10 minutes and turn the fennel. Judge the doneness of the salmon and continue cooking for as long as you like.

Remove from the heat and mash the smoky garlic into the aubergine. Dress the fennel ceviche with some olive oil, shredded mint leaves and check the seasoning. If you’ve got the inclination, remove the salmon skin and place on the grill to crisp up.

Serve the salmon from the plank with the two types of fennel and a saucy smacker of smokey aubergine puree.

The salmon was softer than an Andrex puppy’s downy ear and subtly smoked. Whilst the fennel was sharp and crunchy on the one hand and charred and sweet on the other.

After a scorching debut I think that planking may well be my new favourite cooking technique. We’ll have to push the boat out next time with some more adventurous recipes…

Further reading:

Epicurious on maple planked salmon
Accidental hedonist on Copper River planked salmon
Man Meat Fire
Cedar Grilling Company – they know a thing or two about planking
Cedar plank recipes from Tasty Timbers
Buy planks in the UK here
How to cut your own cedar grilling planks

Overcooked Fish at Essaouira Harbour

We traipsed around Essaouira’s fish market doing our best to avoid being covered in flying fish scales or losing a shoe in a puddle of Piscean guts. We felt a bit like Rick Stein as we tried to talk to the local fishmongers about their displays. Fish of every shape and as many sizes ranging from large to illegally small graced the counters. The best sight was a guy with no teeth tearing apart a conger eel the size of the Amazon and a low point was a man tying to sell us a school of miniature sole which should still have been swimming around in their crèche.

Most people describe the fish market as one of Essaouira’s highlights. And indeed, as a spectacle it is. But as an eating experience, please don’t get your hopes up. Rumours of the fish being exquisite are quite literally overcooked.

After bartering with our fishmonger cum Mitch Tonks we were ushered to a plastic table and served a can of Sprite and encouraged to watch our fish being cooked. We chose a medium sized sea bass, a bunch of prawns, some squid and a couple of “scampi”. As I looked on I was hoping to be impressed by their raw skill and simple cooking technique. But sadly all I wanted to do was ask for my money back, or to push the chef out of the way and take over myself.

The fish were brutally scaled and sawed in half before being salted and then blasted over coals so hot that Dante could write a novella about them. Our platter of fish arrived burnt and drier than Tennessee. A squeeze of lemon would have helped if we had some. But alas, no. A plate of prawns were better, but unseasoned and smelling richly of ammonia. Some squid was OK, but nowhere near as soft as it could have been. And our “scampi” never showed up.

I hate to write such a negative piece about this meal. But the elemental simplicity of barbecued fish is one of my favourite things in the world. We had hoped that it was going to be one of our major highlights. Maybe our expectations were too high? But is it too much to ask for them to be able to cook their amazing fish with care and passion? Rather than just going through the motions…

This is part of a mini-series of posts about Essaouira.

Mackerel Fishing in Salcombe

The prospect of a 2 hour sea fishing trip on a glorious August summer afternoon with 5 fantastic mates was extremely exciting. Apart from a spot of crab fishing aged 5 at Dittisham on the River Dart, it’s fair to say that my fishing experience to date is somewhat limited and the same certainly goes for Browny.

Anna had done her usual, by arranging our day trip with precision and superb execution. You could almost hear Austin Powers shouting out “nerd alert”. Once all aboard, our skipper, who some might say, was a rather bored and grumpy old sea-dog, successfully navigated us out of the Kingsbridge estuary avoiding the dozens of infants whizzing around on dingies out into the open seawaters.

It didn’t take long for things to get interesting and soon big rollers were crashing against the side of our vessel, releasing a shower of sea water and spray over us. To say the conditions were rough would be a gross exaggeration, but for those with relatively weak sea leg likes myself and Anna this was pretty hairy.

“Just keep looking at the horizon and you’ll be fine” were the fine pearls of wisdom from Nick as Anna and I gradually turned the colour of a fresh avocado. It turned out, contrary to popular folklore, that singing sea shanties in a bid to avoid being sick, actually has the opposite effect!

We were exhilarated, bouncy and boisterous at the prospect of catching our own supper. There is something incredibly satisfying yet humbling about popping a line down, deep into the calm ecosystem below the surface in the expectation that something might just take. And when a fish is foolish enough to rook onto your line there is suddenly an extraordinary connection between man and fish, all through a piece of tough nylon.

Nick proved to a complete mackerel magnet and caught almost an entire school of fish in about 10 minutes, as well as cheeky gurnard for good measure. For the rest of us, we had moments of brilliance interspersed with fathoms of frustration. But needless to say we came home with more than enough mackerel to feed some very peckish campers. In fact we caught so many mackerel that the boys started to play with their supper…

We went back to our camp site at Higher Rew via Hope Cove where we marvelled at their amusing street signs before gutting our fish and feeding the innards to some scavenging and very appreciative gulls. It’s crucial, apparently, to gut your mackerel within 30 minutes of catching them. And to make sure you rinse them in sea water.

Nick took charge of the mackerel cooking by simply grilling them over some hot coals. Whilst not undermining Nick’s prodigious mackerel cooking skills, it seems all you have to do is turn them after a couple of minutes, squeeze a lemon over them and then get lauded as the greatest fish chef ever to grace a BBQ!

By Cowie

Char Grilled Red Bream

This isn’t much of a looker. So I’m sorry. But, considering the pitch black conditions it is a miracle we’ve got a photo at all. The light is from a head torch. This is a story, albeit a short one, about how to BBQ fish.

Our fishmonger from behind the Cob at Lyme Regis steered us away from the usual suspects such as mackerel, sea bass, and cod and into the unchartered waters of red bream. He dissuaded us from buying a variety of more expensive and exotic fish on the grounds that this was the freshest thing he had and wanted us to have it.

On arrival back at our camp site we landed up having to beg a few lit coals from a neighbouring group who turned out to be raving psychopaths. Having refused us any of their fire they then relented and tried to befriend us with offerings of horrific rabbit stew that couldn’t have been tougher if it had been sporting knuckle dusters and full facial tattoos.

With our fire alit I then scaled the fish and then coated it in seasoned flour to protect the flesh. We then put a handful of new potatoes in a foil parcel and sprinkled them with olive oil, salt, pepper and rosemary. Once we’d devoured our scallops and groaned at the hazelnut butter we then set about grilling our fish.

To BBQ fish you have to be on your guard at all times. Like a spy deep inside enemy territory. It cooks very quickly and has a tendency to get stuck to the bars. So be armed with 2 spatulas, expert reflexes and a head torch.

Lightly oil the bars on your grill. Then place the fish skin down over indirect heat. The temperature should be hot enough for the skin to immediately make a sizzling noise. After a few minutes inspect the fish and use a finger to check if the skin in crisp or burning. If it feels crisp then it is time for the big moment. The flip.

Using both spatulas jab the fish from the side and in one motion turn the fish so that the skin is facing up. Then cook for a minute or so longer and you will be rewarded with flaking fish and crispy fish skin which are two of my all time favourite things.

Serve with char grilled aubergines, peppers and tomatoes and roasted new potatoes.

Barbecued Scallops with Hazelnut Butter

Its now been a month or so since we returned from our epic trip to the West, yet Browny and Rad are still talking about their favourite dish this year. It is always a bonus when a fishmonger not only sells you some sublimely fresh seafood, but when they also offer free advice and recommendations about how to cook the produce, it makes it taste even better.

Whilst I manned the car in the buzzing hub of Lyme Regis, Rad and Browny disappeared like two mischievous school boys in the Old Watch House fishmongers and returned with a ton of scallops and some red bream.

The chap in charge suggested that we grilled the scallops on the barbie and then, once on the verge of being cooked dip them into a homemade, warm toasted hazelnut butter (which you make by simply toasting some hazlenuts in a pan and then creating a beurre noisette) and squeeze on some lemon juice and sprinkle with salt.

We were in heaven. It doesn’t get much better than sitting round a camp fire with friends and loved ones in the heart of the stunning rural Dorset countryside, listening to chilled, classic tunes and indulging in beauties such as these.

By Cowie

If you need a more detailed recipe it seems James Martin has one which you can follow. But you don’t need it really.

Pancakes at Dawn

In my mind, without question, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It wakes you up, fills your belly and sets you up for the day ahead. Equally I adore pancakes and wish we didn’t always save them for Shove Tuesday. Make a simple batter using flour, water and egg and shake it all up in a Tupperware tub to mix it. Then fry the batter in a smidgen of butter and try not to get too much grass in the pan!

The hot and moreish pancakes were scattered with a generous sprinkle of brown sugar, the peaches were tossed for a minute or two in the pan and the rhubarb yoghurt added a delightful creamy texture to pull the dish together. A few blades of grass never hurts either. Truly yum.

By Cowie

Sea Bass in a Parcel

We bought a line caught sea bass from Fowey Fish with the assurance that it had been caught just off the Fowey coast. The flesh was firm, almost stiff and almost begged to be herbed and steamed in a parcel.

Simply sprinkle inside and out with salt and pepper and scatter thyme, marjoram and lemon zest. Trickle with olive oil and then wrap the fish in two layers of foil but leave a gap so you can pour in a glass of white wine.

Place the parcel on the BBQ and cook over hot coals for around 10 minutes per side. This timing clearly varies depending on how hot your coals are and the size of your fish. (We ate the fish in two sittings, side by side. Party because we were famished and also because we didn’t want the other top side to get cold or overcook).

The flesh was moist, flaky and fragrant with herbs and pearly white. Cous cous with grilled courgettes, aubergines and tomatoes was a great accompaniment. As was a bottle of very cold Muscadet.

But the highlight was watching a well paunched man walking along with his washing up make a detour to follow where the nice smell was coming from. This dish is super simple, but it’s a great way of doing justice to spankingly fresh fish.

Asian Crab Claws on a BBQ

Our trip around the South West didn’t just revolve around restaurants, pubs and BnBs. We interspersed these indulgences with a healthy amount of camping, partly to keep the costs down and also to give us a chance to cook some fantastic local produce on our BBQ. Over the last few years we’ve tried to avoid ever doing anything average and instead have tried to be a bit more experimental and interesting with what we do, such as smoking trout and doing beer can chicken. We’ve built up a supply of gourmet camping kit and never set off with our tent without our trusty football BBQ, larder of herbs, oils and an array of spices. Here’s the first in a handful of posts about what we cooked on our camp sites…

While we were at the fish monger in Fowey we spotted the armour like crab claws laden in the corner on the fish slab. Once we established that half a dozen were only going to cost us £2.50 we ordered them by the scoop. Bizarrely, because they sell so many dressed crabs, they land up with lefover claws! It’s one of those little twists in life that make all the bad things seem to vanish.

The fishmonger, very kindly, bashed the claws for us as well as issuing us with cooking instructions and suggestions of where to eat and where to avoid in Fowey -mainly based on who they supply and who has recently let them down. I can’t give the details here as I’ll get them in trouble. But it was fascinating to pick up on some of the gossip that made Fowey seem more like Westminster than a well to do sailing resort!

We chugged across the chain ferry to our camp site and immediately set about cooking our crab claws in a style that I remember from Lamma Island off Hong Kong.

Simply sautée a large amount of garlic, butter, chilli, spring onions and ginger in a hot frying pan. Meanwhile put your crab claws on the grill so they start to heat up and become aromatic. Then add the claws to the pan for 3-5 mins to absorb the majestic flavours. Glug in some soy sauce too and then dive in with the enthusiasm of a hyperactive toddler who’s just mistaken the Sanatogen bottle for some Smarties. So simple, but so good.

You’ll be able to smugly saunter over to the communal washing up area, safe in the knowledge that your supper was a million times better than their reheated can of chilli con carne. Just watch out for any attacks to your tent during the night.

Sumac Salmon and Apricot Tart

Cowie and I have caught Ottolegnhi fever. It’s a rare condition where the victim exhibits symptons of boredom with normal food and a craving for exotic sounding spices like sumac and Za’atar. Other tell tale signs are a new found love of vegetables and an addiction to scorched broccoli.

So when Cowie and I planned our latest dinner party it was only natural that it took on an Ottoleghi feel. Feeling confident having followed some of his recipes carefully, we decided to branch out and use the book as inspiration rather than treating it like a copy of the ten commandments. Our menu was:

Starter: Communal watercress salad with griddled nectarine, goats cheese and mandarin oil dressing

Main: Whole sumac BBQ salmon with fregola and sumac yoghurt

Dessert: Apricot semolina tart

For the salad we simply griddled some nectaries assembled a large salad of watercress, soft goats cheese and slices of prosciutto. We then sprinkled it with a dressing made from Nudo mandarin olive oil and white balsamic and a few turns of salt and pepper. It looked stunning and was wolfed down with great enthusiasm.

Kicking off dinner parties with shared salads like this where everyone can help themselves whilst having a drink is a great way of taking some of the strain out of being a host. It saves washing up and can be prepared really easily. It allowed us to concentrate on doing justice to the salmon…

As a result of our excellent turbot, we decided to source our wild side of salmon to feed 12 from Moxons. It costs more. But when it is the star of the show, it’s worth it.

I whipped up a marinade of olive oil, sumac, salt, pepper and sumac and left it to rest for half an hour whilst we got the BBQ up to heat. The logistics of BBQing a whole side of salmon are simple. But daunting. One wrong move and the fish falls apart and everyone goes home hungry. Having collected lots of advice from various books and websites I dived straight in with Cowie almost shouting at me to play it safe and cook it in foil… Pah…

Here’s what to do:

1. Clean the grill and then oil it so it’s nice and slippy
2. If you aren’t marinating the fish, then make sure you oil the skin
3. Disperse the embers so that you aren’t cooking directly above them – it’s much better cooking on indirect heat as it avoids burning
4. Place the fish skin side down
5. Attend to your fish with unwavering concentration
6. When the time is right, use two spatulas/fish slices and use quick jabbing movements and turn he fish quickly
7. Only turn your fish once
8. The fish will only need a short amount of cooking on the flesh side
9. Remove from the heat and serve

Our salmon took around 15-20 minutes of gentle cooking before it was ready. The smell of heat on fish skin is one of my favourites.

To our delight the salmon was perfect. The skin was so crispy and fragrant that fish skin haters lapped it up with glee; the flesh teased apart and made serving it a doddle; and It was still thrillingly medium rare. Phew!

The yoghurt dressing with sumac, lemon zest, chilli and clutch of herbs from the garden offered a fresh creamy counterpoint to the vibrant fish. The exotic, lemony flavour of sumac was very subtle, but utterly delicious. It’s got us hooked!

A bowl of fregola mixed with cous cous hazlenuts, tomatoes and herbs wasn’t half bad either! Another doff of cap to Ottolenghi.

After the success of a semolina rhubarb tart earlier in the year we decided to make the most of a glut of apricots by making them into a tart. It’s very easy and tastes great. The night before simply make a semolina cream by heating 1 1/2 cups of milk spiked with vanilla and when it gets hot add 45 grams of fine semolina and 55 grams of caster sugar. Stir this as it heat and bring to the boil. Cook for a little longer and when it is smooth and thick remove from the heat. Allow it cool a little and then beat in 3 egg yolks. Set this aside in plastic bowl and cover with cling-film that hugs the cream to avoid a skin forming. Then on the night of the dinner party blind bake some dessert pastry, allow to cool and then spoon in the semolina cream. Now you can get arty. Arrange your slices of fresh apricot in geometric patterns and paint with apricot jam. Then bake until the apricots have become soft and the top has turned golden.

We served it warm with some vanilla ice cream. But it is probably better (and easier to serve) cold. The tart apricots had turned sweet with their juices combined with the smooth semolina cream. The only disappointment was that there wasn’t enough for seconds! You could do the same thing with gooseberries or raspberries…

It was one of our most fun dinner parties to date. We managed to balance cooking interesting food whilst also taking as much stress and time consuming preparation out as possible. It’s a great formula, and one we are going to repeat.

Barbecued Lamb

Barbecued lamb is to die for. Charred, smokey and juicy pink, it is hard to beat. More often than not it gets overcooked to a gruel like grey. But the joy of the BBQ is that the meat gets charred and stays pink at the same time.

For our first BBQ of the year we decided to splash out on a 3kg boned leg of lamb from Chadwick’s in Balham. It had to be massive in order to feed around a dozen hungry mouthes. The meat was dark, dry and smelt of a life well lived. We stuffed and marinated the meat overnight in a balsamic vinegar, garlic, orange zest, oregano, rosemary, thyme, anchovies and olive oil having got some inspiration from Waitrose.com.

We let the coals die down and spread them around the periphery of the BBQ in order to limit the singe factor. I layed the meat on the grill flesh side down for a few minutes before turning it over onto the side covered in skin and fat. We left it this way up for the next 40 minutes whilst salivating and wincing at the smell of our amazing lamb. And after 45 minutes we were left with pink, smoky, mind blowing lamb that made me want to do a mini lap of honour.

Served with some new potatoes from the Clapham Farmers Market and a Cowie classic roasted veg it was as close to my perfect meal as it gets. When you’ve got meat from a good butcher and veg from a proper farmer it really is hard to beat.