Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [169]
Serves 6
18–24 scallops
125 ml (4 fl oz) dry white wine
bouquet garni
6 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons brandy
125 ml (4 fl oz) Madeira or medium dry or brown sherry
salt, pepper
250 ml (8 fl oz) double cream
2 medium egg yolks plus 2 tablespoon single cream
Slice the scallops across into 2 discs, having separated the corals. Meanwhile, simmer the wine, an equal quantity of water and the bouquet for 5 minutes. Add the white scallop slices and stir until half cooked – they should still be a little transparent, about 2 minutes. Remove the bouquet, pour off the liquor and keep for another dish. Stir in 4 tablespoons of butter and toss the scallops in it until they are coated and just bubbling. Flame with the brandy, then pour in the Madeira or sherry and add the scallop corals. Leave to complete the cooking – do not overcook. Scoop the pieces of scallop on to a warm serving dish, season and keep warm.
Pour in the double cream and boil down the sauce to reduce it a little. Beat the yolks with the single cream, amalgamate with the sauce in the usual way, being careful not to overheat it. Stir in the remaining butter. Taste and check the seasoning. Pour the sauce over the scallops.
Serve with plainly boiled rice. You could shape the rice into a ring in a buttered mould, turn it out and fill the centre with the scallops.
SCALLOPS SANTIAGO
As I was writing this section of the book, they dug up the body of a man who had been buried in his pilgrim’s garments, complete with a scallop shell. A medieval burial, somewhere in the Midlands, I think. That ancient desire to face eternity remembering the greatest journey of his life, reminded me of the evenings we sat out of doors on our shelf of a garden in France looking at the Milky Way – the great procession of pilgrims going down to Spain – and longing to go there ourselves. Not for religious reasons, but from a desire to share a little of that dominating experience of the past.
At last, in 1981, Franco gone, we found ourselves in September wandering round the cathedral and the processional spaces of Santiago de Compostela, a long journey from Trôo even in the car. How much longer on foot, with a staff and a gourd of water? How frightening very often, even with the hospitals provided by those early tour operators, the monastic orders. We ended up eating scallops in the hotel beside the cathedral, and to tell the truth they were overcooked. Why scallops anyway? They have nothing to do with St James’s life as far as it is known, but legend has it that a knight was crossing a difficult inlet and in danger of drowning so called on St James to help him. He emerged safely, with his horse, both of them covered in scallop shells.
Serves 6
18 scallops
125 g (4 oz) chopped onion
olive oil
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
leaves of 1 medium bunch of parsley, chopped
salt, pepper
powdered cloves
nutmeg
6 tablespoons fine fresh white breadcrumbs
Put 6 deep scallop shells on a baking sheet, steadying them with circles of crumpled foil. Set the oven at gas 7, 220°C (425°F).
Separate and reserve the corals from the scallops. Trim and dice the white part. Soften the onion in a little oil until soft and golden. Mix in the garlic and most of the parsley and remove from the heat. Season with salt and pepper, and a pinch or two of cloves and grated nutmeg to taste. Then add the scallop dice, mixing everything well together. Divide between the shells, tucking in the corals on top. Sprinkle with the breadcrumbs and drip a little olive oil over each.
Bake at the top of the oven, for 10–15 minutes, until the scallops are just done before the crumbs lightly browned. If you find the scallops are done before the