Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [241]
Along these spines, and along another strong spine attached to the gill-covers, are grooves that conduct the poison from the fish’s poison glands to the victim. Not surprisingly, both French and English names – vive and weever – seem to derive from the Old French wivre, meaning viper. But don’t be put off because the flesh has an excellent firm texture and good flavour. Ask the fishmonger to remove the poisonous spines: if he is unwilling, it is quite easy to do this yourself at home with a pair of kitchen scissors. Weevers are easy to recognize from the slanting streaks of yellow and greyish brown which look oddly straight for fish markings; they are separated by long lines running parallel to the backbone which gives the impression of a geological slip as pictured in a diagram. The fillets come away cleanly and neatly, like a sole’s – and I believe that unscrupulous restaurateurs have been known to substitute them, a far more convincing ploy than lemon sole where the likeness is verbal only, in sole dishes (always enquire when a menu declares ‘sole’ to make sure you are getting the real right thing).
A likely place to come across weevers is a market in France, especially Brittany or Provence where they are a useful part of the mixed bag of fish sold for soup. Interestingly William Verral, master of the White Hart Inn at Lewes in Sussex, observed that weevers did very well in a fricassée, especially when combined with whiting livers – ‘In the whiting season you may have plenty of livers at any fishmonger’s shop’, but this was in the middle of the eighteenth century. Another person who was cooking weevers at about the same time was Hannah Glasse. Both recipes are included since they are easy to adapt to our times, and I hope you will be lucky enough to see a weever or two at the fish counter. You will see that the method favoured in both cases is broiling, a word that the Americans have retained for the practice that we now refer to as grilling.
TO BROIL WEEVERS
‘Gut them and wash them clean, dry them in a clean cloth, flour them, then broil them, and have melted butter in a cup. They are fine fish, and cut as firm as a sole; but you must take care not to hurt yourself with the two sharp bones in the head.’ (Hannah Glasse, The Art of Cookery, 1747).
BROILED WEEVERS WITH BAY LEAVES, WITH SAUCE POIVRADE (Des puavivres grillés, aux feuilles de lauriers, sauce poivrade)
‘Notch your fish’ – slash them in the thickest part – ‘and lay them in a marinade of white wine and vinegar, &c, and a few bay leaves, let ’em remain an hour, and dry them in a cloth, broil them of a nice brown colour, with a bay leaf or two upon each, and prepare your sauce with a spoonful or two of gravy’ – light beef stock – ‘a little white wine and vinegar, some shallot, pepper, salt and parsley, boil it but a minute or two, and send it up in a fish-boat or cup, for most choose these fish with orange or lemon only.’ (William Verral, The Cook’s Paradise, 1759).
In the marinade, which should mainly consist of white wine with a little vinegar, the ‘&c’ could be some aromatic vegetables. Use some of this strained marinade for the sauce. The oranges should be bitter ones of the Seville type that we use for making marmalade: out of season, use lemon.
† WIND-DRIED or WIND-BLOWN FISH
(BLAWNS, SPELDINGS, SILLOCKS, BOMBAY DUCK, BOKKEMS, ETC)
A favourite book of mine is The Herring and Its Fishery by W. C. Hodgson. It is written with a vivid eye, with an immediacy that makes me feel that his experiences have been mine as well. The nuggets of information, recipes, strange facts, become part of the reader’s existence. Try his way of making wind-dried herrings, still apparently a favourite in East Anglia. ‘It is most successful in the winter months, and a frosty night in November is admirably suitable. Take half a dozen fresh herrings and sprinkle them with salt, then leave them in a dish