Jane Grigson's Fish Book - Jane Grigson [74]
† HADDOCK
Melanogrammus aeglefinus
After cod comes the haddock – at least in the way of popular consumption. And in some regions it is preferred to cod, for instance in the West Riding of Yorkshire where fish and chips means haddock and chips. Alan Davidson points out that discriminating Icelanders also prefer haddock to cod. This makes me feel that they are offered a superior strain, or perhaps just a fresher fish. The haddock one gets here under the normal humdrum circumstances of life is, in my experience, an uninspiring if estimable acquaintance. Chances are that you buy it because sole or turbot or halibut are too dear, because it is there on a thin day for choice and you cannot think of anything else. Faced with a fillet of haddock, the heart does not sing.
The tragic realities of fishing cod that lie behind the history of New England and the western countries of Europe, that have stimulated great novels such as Pêcheurs d’Islande and Captains Courageous and a host of songs, are not so apparent in the matter of fishing haddock. Perhaps it is something to do with the name. It has a jaunty, diminutive air – like bullock or hillock – that does not seem to have appealed to the poet’s or novelist’s ear. The haddock’s main cultural achievement is to have become identified with St Peter, like the John Dory. After the Transfiguration, Jesus and St Peter arrived in Capernaum on the shores of Galilee, where the ruins of the synagogue of that time may still be seen. Immediately the local customs people were after them. Christ knew that being locals and not strangers they were not liable, but said precisely to St Peter, ‘Notwithstanding, lest we should offend them, go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money: that take, and give it unto them for me and thee.’
The dark round marks behind the head, above the pectoral fins, are by legend the fingerprints of St Peter. The silly thing is that neither the haddock nor the John Dory could possibly have been the fish since they live in the sea, and the Sea of Galilee is a freshwater lake.
An interesting point about haddock is that being softer and smaller-flaked than cod, it is not as suitable for long-term drying and salting. Small haddocks, rizzered haddock, may be lightly salted and hung up to dry when the air is clear, to make a breakfast dish next day, but their particular virtues are best shown off by smoking. The fisherfolk of eastern Scotland developed a couple of famous cures for haddock. I do not know how long ago, but presumably in the eighteenth century, if not earlier: they became more widely known in the rest of the country and abroad in the nineteenth century as Finnan haddie or haddock and Arbroath smokies. These are two of the great delicacies, when properly done.
HOW TO BUY AND PREPARE HADDOCK
As with cod, the finest part of the haddock is behind the head (which also has its pickings). As a change, instead of cooking a whole bass or salmon, why not buy a whole haddock of 1–1½ kg (2–3 lb) ? You can then stuff and bake it in a hot oven, say at gas 7, 220 °C (425 °F), using a light mixture of breadcrumbs, herbs with a little green onion, perhaps some chopped mushrooms or hard-boiled egg and some lemon juice. Or you might poach it in very salty water, as if it were cod, see p. 94, and serve it with clear melted butter and fine shreds of grated horseradish, or with an hollandaise sauce*. Freshness is the key to success.
As with so many others of the cod family, pre-salting is a surprising improvement. You might go further by salting it liberally and leaving it for twenty-four hours; it will then need rinsing before you cook it. We had home-salted fish once at Joigny, at the Lorains’ À La Côte St Jacques, with very young, neat root vegetables – simple and good.
ESCOFFIER’S GRATIN OF HADDOCK WITH COURGETTES
I was idling through Escoffier’s Guide Culinaire one day, enjoying the nomenclature of kings and princesses, archdukes, admirals