Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [180]
SASHIMI II
Here is another way of preparing fish for sashimi, in which the skin sides of the fillets are partially cooked.
Use fillets of fish that are not too thick. Sea bream for instance, but not tuna which is too solid and meaty. Sea bass would be a good alternative.
Cut the fillets, leaving the skin in place, and cut each fillet lengthways in two pieces. Put them on a heavy chopping board, skin side up. Tilt the board in a sink. Bring a kettle of water to the boil and pour it slowly over the fish and the skin will contract. Rinse in cold water, dry thoroughly and then remove the skin before slicing the fish.
Serve with shredded white radish and shoyu, or soy sauce mixed with an equal amount of lemon or lime juice.
SEA BREAM BAKED IN SALT
Choose a pot into which the sea bream, or other fish, fits with about 3 cm (1½ inches) to spare all round. Line with heavy or doubled foil. Put 3 cm (1½ inches) of salt in the bottom. Place the fish in the pot and pour in enough salt to bury it completely, with a 2-cm (1-inch) layer on top. Put in a preheated oven, gas 8–9, 230–240°C (450–475°F), and leave for 30 minutes for a larger mackerel, or other fish weighing 500 g (1 lb).
Turn out on to a large baking sheet. Tap it carefully with a hammer. Brush off the salt and serve.
SEA EAR see A FEW WORDS ABOUT… ABALONE
SEA PERCH see SEA BASS
SEA-URCHINS see A FEW WORDS ABOUT… SEA-URCHINS
SHAD see A FEW WORDS ABOUT… SHAD
† SHARKS-PORBEAGLE, MAKO & TOPE
Lamna nasus, Isurus oxyrinchus & Galeorhinus galeus
To see a shark brought low on a marble slab is disturbing; as if the wildness of the sea can no longer be relied on, when such creatures are harvested, or caught like cattle. Scientists, too, have taken away our fantasies. They assure us that sharks, requiem sharks in particular, do not all deserve their tolling name of doom. They do not hover behind ships waiting for a careless lurch overboard. We shall never see a shark swimming off with a dinner-jacketed arm protruding from its awful jaws, like the mousetail from a cat’s. One writer ominously remarks that they are ‘not averse to dead meat’. Another says that it is the ship’s garbage they are after. They are no more than a scavenging nuisance. Think of it – the man-eating shark a nuisance and no more. They spoil fishing nets and gnaw pointlessly at the profitable shoals of herring; they gobble the bait from the lines. Not much Melville or Moby Dick here.
As far as the cook is concerned, there are no horrors either; shark is delicious and easy to prepare. The two kinds I first came across are undoubtedly only a couple amongst a number that are worth trying. Admittedly neither was in the first rank of fish – sole, lobster, turbot, salmon, eel and so on – but both were above the ordinary humdrum level. As well as good flavour and texture, they have the advantages of no bones, beyond a central spine and its few attachments, and of cheapness. This latter must be a reflection of conservative taste and poor cooking ability, because sharks are a rare fish by comparison with the daily fare of saithe, ling, etc.
We first saw the immense porbeagle, or a part of it, at the Wednesday market in Montoire. Its matt velour-like skin stood out among the scaly fish and white fillets around it. The fishmonger’s wife explained that it is called taupe in France on account of this mole-coloured skin (which makes an excellent shagreen). Then she turned the piece towards us so that we could see the pale pink, lightly fibred flesh. ‘It’s just like veal,’ she said. ‘We sometimes call it veau de mer.’ She took her great knife across the piece, then cut a section the right size for our small family of three. ‘Treat it like veal,’ she called after us. We found that she was right; the flavour is so delicate, and the