Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [101]
Of course, a fish from the Sea of Galilee could not have been the salt water John Dory – or the salt water haddock, see p. 148 – but it is a nice tale and one does wonder about those dark round marks. The more likely fish is a kind of trout that flourishes in Galilee and is also called St Peter’s fish, in Israel. I have eaten it grilled, a pleasant but not outstanding fish – though, to be just, overcooking did not help: that was in Tel Aviv. I looked in vain for fingermarks. Neither was there a coin in its mouth.
The English name is right out of line. At first it was dory by itself, from dorée, describing the golden sheen on the scales. John was added in the seventeenth century. An affectionate response to its frankly ugly but sad and amiable face? The same impulse which gave names like Jenny Wren, Jack-run-by-the-hedge and Robin Redbreast to things we have liked and felt at home with?
Not, I’m afraid, that you are likely to feel familiar with John Dory these days, and the American John Dory (Zenopsis ocellata) is also scarce – the fingermarks are paler, though still discernible. In Britain, hoteliers and restaurateurs snap it up but try ordering it specially from your fishmonger, and persist. Look out for it on holiday in Europe – or in the Canaries. A friend who was there just lately had one, or rather its fillets, fried in a crisp batter. He was told that if the catch had been bigger, he would not have been eating it, because the big fish merchants on the islands buy them all immediately they are landed, and export them rapidly. That particular day too few John Dories had turned up for them to bother.
HOW TO CHOOSE AND PREPARE JOHN DORY
The enormous head and large cavity of the John Dory gives you a misleading impression of its edible size. As so often with fish, you need to judge quantities with your eyes rather than the scales. The large spiny fins make it seem bigger, too. Unless you are using the Dory for Pesce bolito, ask the fishmonger to fillet it for you. Keep the debris for stock.
Many sole and turbot recipes can be used with success. Creamy and egg sauces are good, too. It is the obvious candidate for such Mediterranean dishes as Bourride and Bouillabaisse. I like it served with fennel, blanched and then finished in butter with a touch of garlic and parsley. Marsh samphire – this time a plant, not a fish, named for Saint Pierre – makes a good accompaniment, preferably the tips steamed, although the pickled version gives an agreeable sharp accent.
JOHN DORY WITH ORANGE SAUCE (Saint-Pierre à l’orange)
Orange with fish has become almost as popular again as it was in the eighteenth century. Bitter oranges were the thing then, as a rich but equally sharp substitute for lemon. Nowadays, unless you keep a supply of Sevilles in the deep-freeze – in which case, use three of them and omit the lemon in the recipe following – you have to use sweet oranges sharpened with lemon juice. As the strength and sweetness of oranges vary, use your taste as a guide when making the sauce rather than exact measures.
Serves 6
6 x 150–175 g (5–6 oz) fillets John Dory
salt, pepper, cayenne
2 oranges
1 small lemon
125 g (4 oz) butter
1 shallot or 1 small onion, chopped
125 ml (4 fl oz) Madeira or brown sherry
125 ml (4 fl oz) double cream
2 large egg yolks
1 generous handful of marsh samphire to garnish (optional)
Sprinkle the fish on both sides with seasoning and set aside. Peel off the zest of the citrus fruit and cut it into matchsticks; blanch them for 2 minutes in boiling water and drain them. Alternatively – this is better in every way – remove the outer coloured peel with a zester: these shreds are fine enough not to need blanching. Squeeze the fruit juices.
In a large shallow pan, melt a third of the butter and cook the shallot or onion gently, without browning it, until it begins to soften. Put in the fish, the citrus juices, the wine and enough water to come almost to the top of the fish. Cover and simmer until the fish