Sunday 23 August 2009

Samphire

Another trip to the tip to consign some more junk to oblivion meant that I was later than usual with my shopping on Saturday morning. By the time I reached the fishmonger, the choice was limited. But what he did have was some vivid green samphire, which really cheered up my morning. I love the salty crunchiness of this strange, almost prehistoric half vegetable / half seaweed and always buy some when it is on sale.

So that decision was easy, but what to have with it?
All the interesting choices had gone by the time I arrived. There were plenty of salmon fillets and farmed rainbow trout, but they didn't appeal. In the end I opted for a piece of worthy-looking, but rather dull naturally-smoked haddock.

If R were still here, he would automatically have demanded kedgeree. Specifically the Delia Smith recipe - still my favourite version of the dish, although my own rendering looks a lot greener from the excess of parsley I always add.

As it is technically impossible to make a worthwhile kedgeree for one, and I didn't fancy eating it for the next few days, I opted for my second favourite thing to do with a piece of smoked haddock - fishcakes. There is nothing at all sophisticated about a fishcake, but I find them very comforting; it must be the nursery food nature of the beast. There was also some leftover mashed potato in the fridge that needed using up.

The haddock was gently poached in a mixture of milk and water, boosted with a little onion, a few peppercorns and a couple of bayleaves. Had there been no leftover potato in the fridge, then this poaching water would have served nicely for mashing some spuds. As I had no need for it, the dog happily obliged.

I then mixed the flaked haddock (Moose had the skin as well) with the mashed potato, added a couple of finely chopped spring onions and a few snipped chives, plus salt and pepper. It is a good idea not to break up the flakes too much so that the cakes retain a bit of texture. Then I shaped them into little patties. I was intending to dip the patties in egg and then breadcrumbs, but my recent minimal bread intake meant that there were no crumbs in the freezer. So, the patties had to be satisfied with being coated in seasoned flour.

While they were frying in a little sunflower oil, I washed the samphire and braised it quickly in nothing more than a little butter and the water clinging to it. That's all it needs - its natural saltiness means that nothing else is required apart from a little ground pepper.

There are lots of other things I could have served this with, but for once I didn't fancy a salad. A few capers sprinkled on top added a little sharpness, and that was it.
Not even any ketchup!

Thursday 20 August 2009

Chanterelles

I have had a minor obsession about wild mushrooms for several years, but it was only when we moved to Wales that I graduated to picking and cooking them.

R was happy to indulge this interest, even though it meant that, at certain times of year, our walks were spent with me peering into the undergrowth or leaping up onto a bank with a shout of triumph at seemingly random moments. On several occasions he was required to surrender his cap or pockets to carry my prizes as I had forgotten to bring a bag with me.

Naturally cautious, however, he would only ever eat anything that had been thoroughly identified to his satisfaction - both to determine what it was and what it could NOT be.
First we would take a spore print and check the colours of the spores. Then the mushroom was cross-checked in two books, and any possible impostors were identified as well.
The final proof was furnished by the simple expedient of allowing me to eat them first, then waiting a couple of days to see if I turned up my toes as a result. If I survived and pronounced the mushrooms tasty, then he would happily tuck in as well.

This isn't great mushroom-hunting country; whether this is due to the height or the soil type or what, I really cannot say. But if you know where to look there are still a few pockets here and there for the taking. We don't get the huge patches of St. Georges or fairy ring champignons that friends at lower altitudes find in abundance, but one mushroom that I do find in relative quantity is the chanterelle. There is one mossy bank in dappled shade under some scrubby oak trees that always comes up trumps at this time of year when we have a couple of days of sunshine after a good soaking of rain.



In years of really great abundance, I have dried the surplus chanterelles for later use. While they do add flavour to a winter soup or stew, the texture remains a little chewy after they are reconstituted, so I have decided henceforth to simply eat them on every possible occasion while they are in season and then wait impatiently until the next year.

Essentially chanterelles can be used in any recipe that calls for mushrooms. Risotto is good, as are pasta dishes, particularly as a filling for home-made ravioli. But I find that with their slightly more toothsome texture, they are enjoyed to best effect simply sautéed in a little butter and olive oil along with some baby leeks or spring onions and half a clove of garlic. Add a little red pepper or a mild chilli for colour. A few cubes of pancetta or chopped bacon added at the start make it a more substantial lunchtime dish, as does a fresh, poached duck egg. Sprinkle a few chives on top for maximum viewing pleasure and serve with some crusty or seedy bread to absorb the buttery, mushroomy juices.