Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [213]
Larger turbot these days are usually filleted, and sold in steaks. You buy what you require and cook it in any way suitable for white fish. Most of the finer recipes for cod, monkfish and sole are suitable for turbot. If you enjoy making sauces, turbot gives you a chance to show off your skill. Wild mushrooms cooked with a little shallot, parsley and butter are a worthy partner for turbot. Hollandaise and its derivatives*, cream sauces* and shellfish sauces* are the classic accompaniments.
Don’t neglect any left-overs. Cold turbot is fine for a salad, or for making a filling for puff pastry. The poaching liquid, and carcase, can be turned into the most excellent jellied stock for a chowder or soup if seasonings and lemon were not too strong.
POACHED TURBOT WITH HORSERADISH
At Krogs Restaurant in Copenhagen, they serve the freshest and finest turbot you are ever likely to eat. Ours had come out of the water that morning. It had been seasoned and left for a while to absorb the flavour. Then it had been poached in a well-flavoured court bouillon* while we waited.
It came to our table with a fine scatter of grated horseradish root, a sauceboat of melted butter and a sauceboat of hollandaise*. There were also some small new potatoes, and extra horseradish in a bowl.
When the fish was served, everyone helped themselves to the horseradish, sprinkling it over the fish. Then melted butter was poured over the whole thing. It was really excellent. The surprising thing was the horseradish, which was sweetly piquant. The butter provided the emollient richness that poached fish require. We hardly needed the hollandaise.
To do this yourself at home, say with a chicken turbot, cover the fish with cold court bouillon (Krogs did not seem to be concerned with whiteness as Victorian cooks used to be, so no lemon or milk). Bring it to the boil, then immediately lower to a simmer and give it 8–9 minutes, assuming it is 2½ cm (1 inch) at the thickest part.
Meanwhile, grate fresh horseradish from the outside of the root (the inner core is the hot part), and melt a packet of lightly salted Danish Lurpak butter, straining off the crusty white bits. Serve potatoes and hollandaise sauce, too, if you like.
TURBOT À LA CRÈME
Left-over turbot can be turned into an honourable dish. Mrs Beeton has an excellent way with it, very simple. She made a cream and butter sauce* – you melt 125 g (4 oz) of unsalted butter in a shallow pan, then stir in 175 ml (6 fl oz) of the thickest cream you can find, preferably Jersey. This makes a thick unctuous sauce to which seasoning can be added, and in which the flaked turbot – about 375 g (12 oz) – is briefly reheated.
The mixture is then used to fill split oblongs of puff pastry, or vol-au-vent cases, or shortcrust tartlets. Another way is to divide it between little pots, one per person, and tuck in triangles of toast. Sprinkle on top a little cayenne, or some chopped green herbs.
TURBOT AU POIVRE
Since I first wrote Fish Cookery, steak au poivre has had its moment of glory and mostly disappeared, but I find that visitors much enjoy fish cooked in the same way. It seemed original and attractive in 1971 and it still seems original now, although one or two writers have copied it from me. But then I had the idea from an obscure French source, so perhaps I should not complain that they make no acknowledgement!
The recipe is easily adapted to halibut, monkfish, even cod and its relations. The thing is that you must have a steak, i.e. a slice cut across a fish, and not a piece of fillet, so that the pepperiness can penetrate the fish.
Serves 6
6 turbot steaks, about 2 cm (just under 1 inch) thick
salt
6 tablespoons black peppercorns
2 tablespoons plain flour
1 tablespoon sunflower oil
125 g (4 oz) unsalted