Simple Things

Last night some friends and I decided to brave the Veritas Forum, a Christian organisation begun at Harvard that hosts discussion forums to engage with 'life's hardest questions'.

Needless to say, opposite John Haldane (Professor of philosophy and Director of the Centre for Ethics, Philosophy and Public Affairs at the University of St. Andrews), Christopher Hitchens (Vanity Fair columnist and author of God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything) was on the defensive.

Hitchens's penchant for emotive hyperbole didn't necessarily serve to illuminate one's understanding of deeper, ontological conundrums, but he proved, nonetheless, to be a thoughtful and entertaining opponent of Professor Haldane's argument for religion's presence in the 'public square'.

The discussion veered away from doctrine--a credit to both speakers--and centred on experience and humanist common ground. Which, in turn, left me compelled not by either set of convictions, but, rather, brimming with more questions. Don't worry--I won't be sharing those here!

This is where a vain attempt at seamless transition is made: In the presence of these burly complexities, I find I have, of late, made attempts to simplify some quotidian things, and food did not escape the minimising zeal.

Simple reached sublime last week when the urge to splurge saw me walk into Gluttons on Walton Street and emerge with rosemary 'Lingue', olives, a bottle of prosecco, local cherry tomatoes and fresh basil, and--the piece de resistance--Windrush Valley wild garlic fresh goats' cheese. The tomatoes were chopped and promptly tossed with salt, pepper, olive oil and torn basil; more than one glass of prosecco was poured; and I consumed nearly an entire round of cheese in one sitting. Each element complimented the other, and none of the preparation could really be called cooking.

The rest of the tomatoes and basil then became caprese.

Another recent, memorable weeknight dinner was an interpretation of 'Sake-Steamed Sea Bass with Ginger and Green Onion'. Well, my version ended up being Mirin-Steamed Salmon Ginger and Garlic', but it was no-fuss and delicious. I ate the left-overs cold for lunch, with couscous and a salad.

(an improvised steamer)

I'm not certain out of what this need to simplify came. Perhaps, now that summer is daring to actually unfold in the coming weeks, there's an inclination to eat 'clean', fresh food. Perhaps, when everything else in life seems to refuse order, placing a round, plump orb of fresh cheese, amongst oblong moons of tomatoes and olives, the cosmos becomes clearer.

Edinburgh on My Mind

Where to begin? No, I haven't thrown in the towel. Just yet. It's been a whirlwind of a past few months with a jaunt to Scotland, trips to London, and lots of work in between.

Along the way, there has been food, however. Oh, has there been food!

Itchy feet caught up with me in February, and being whisked away to Edinburgh for a stay at The Balmoral Hotel was all that the Rocco Forte destination promised and more. I don't think I've slept as soundly as I did in those three nights than in three months together.

An afternoon spa package came with a complimentary light lunch at Hadrian's Brasserie. A goat's cheese tart and braised beef with cabbage and potato gratin must have been miles away, however, from the Michelin starred Number One restaurant, just a hop across the hotel lobby. The beef had not reached the melt-in-your-mouth state that any properly braised bit of protein should, and the tart--probably constructed twelve hours earlier--tasted like it.




No harm done--I was off to the spa! Emerging 3 hours later as a new woman, dinner brought us to The Outsider, where my most memorable meal of the trip was had. There is nothing like Scottish wild salmon. One thinks one has had salmon before, and Copper River fillets are certainly up there with the rest, but this salmon was otherworldly.

Dressed in a light, creamy roasted red pepper sauce and served on a bed of wilted spinach and fennel, all of the earthy, charred flavours heightened, rather than detracted from, the delicate fish. Accompanied by garlic shoestring frites, we were happy customers.

I think Scottish hospitality has something to do with it as well. Every server, doorman, sales person, and clerk was helpful, charming, and...well...just nice. Also, the men at the Missoni Hotel, dressed in Missoni kilts, were not hard on the eyes, either. This, enhanced, I think, by the delightfully deadly Vespa martini I had at the bar.

Other highlights, gastronomically speaking, were a bresaola, rocket, and Parmesan salad at too-cool-for-school CentoTre and a glorious 28-day aged Aberdeen beef fillet with bernaise at the more starched-collared Tempus, both on George Street.






Topped off, of course, with sticky toffee pudding!





Edinburgh was like a bigger-dare I say it?-better Oxford. For student life, Oxbridge is the place--a veritable playground of Colleges to choose from, each one offering a more packed social schedule than the next. But what about life after the Ivory Tower?

A recent incident involving a Bodleian librarian julienning my old reader's card with a scissors really drove home the fact that that chapter has ended, as much as it smarts to admit it. Doors, metaphorical or otherwise, tend to slam behind one when living in a university town sans programme of study, and it's time to look steadily onwards. And the view from the castle was breathtaking.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Baked Fish

Attention, graduate students! You, too, can cook fish.

I know, I know: but money, but time, but technique, oh my!

Fear not. It has been a humdinger of a week with a d-day of another sort looming (submission of master’s dissertation on June 15th!), yet these two fish dishes came through for meals with friends this week. Both use a limited number of ingredients that are variable and easy to find —perfect for a last-minute creation using whatever happens to be loitering in the back of the fridge.

One hint for the grad student budget: get to know your local fishmonger and find out their delivery schedule. If you tend to cook salmon, for example, find out on which days the catch is delivered and try to stop by towards the end of that day, when the demand to move the produce is greatest—sometimes there are really good deals to be had! For both the haddock and the (organic, farm-raised) salmon used in the recipes below I was able to keep to a budget of 4-5 GBP/person.

The first recipe is an adaptation of Ina Garten’s ‘Mustard-Roasted Fish’ from her book Barefoot Contessa: Back to Basics.

This is the original list of ingredients for 4 servings:

4 (8-ounces) fish fillets
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 ounces crème fraiche
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon whole-grain mustard
2 tablespoons minced shallots
2 teaspoons drained capers

My haddock fillets came in two, approximately 16 ounce fillets, and I thought it best to keep them large and whole rather than cut them into smaller portions. This seemed to keep the fish more moist. The first ingredient substitutions were necessitated by the fact that, for some reason, Marks & Spencer’s had a run on capers and shallots. So, I substituted a 2/3 red onion to 1/3 minced garlic combination for the shallots and finely chopped gherkins for the capers. Oh, and we also opted for half-fat crème fraiche… This all worked surprisingly well! Our container of crème fraiche was 10 ounces, so I admit to having increased the amount of whole-grain mustard, ‘shallots’ and ‘capers’ by about 1-2 teaspoons each.

The recipe for this baked fish is incredibly simple. Just mix all of the ingredients together and cover the fish with a thick, generous layer of mustard cream. Bake at 200 C for 15-20 minutes and serve immediately. Our dinner was a bit of a pot luck and E. and D. came forth with wine, delicious bruschetta with diced tomatoes, grilled vegetables, and sundried tomatoes and a rocket salad. Yum! All in all, dinner was done in under 45 minutes, including preparation time.

The second fish recipe, which most friends have been subjected to at least once, is my salmon with chili jam, an adaptation of America's Test Kitchen's 'Sweet and Saucy Charcoal-Grilled Salmon with Lime-Jalapeno Glaze'--an oddly elusive recipe to track down!

Again, some substitutions were necessary. 'Sweet Chili Jam' stood in for the jalapeno jelly, and I added 2 tsp. soy sauce:

2 salmon fillets
Salt and pepper
4 Tablespoons toasted sesame oil
¼ cup sweet chili jam/jalapeno jelly
2 garlic cloves, minced or pressed through garlic press
1 lime; 1 teaspoon grated zest/ 2 Tablespoons juice
1-2 green onions, finely chopped
2 teaspoons low sodium soy sauce

2 Tablespoons unsalted butter
Tinfoil

Rinse the fish in cold water and pat dry with kitchen roll.

Use tinfoil to create a large ‘boat’ for the fish; this does not have to entail symmetrical, 90-degree corners by any means—just make sure there is an ample lip running around the edge to hold in juices and bubbling, excess glaze. Nor does this need to be a large boat; in fact, the fish will stay nice and moist with a margin of about 1-2 cm.

Combine the jam, garlic, lime zest and juice, green onions and soy sauce in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally. The sauce should simmer and thicken on the hob, about 2-3 minutes.

This is another divergence from the Test Kitchen recipe, but seeing as there was no grill available, improvisation was in order. To seal the fish and get that slightly caramelized surface colour, I first seasoned the fish with salt and pepper and then seared the salmon with a bit of toasted sesame oil in a red-hot skillet for a matter of seconds—just to crisp up the skin a bit and add some colour to the flesh (no more than 10 seconds per side).

Transfer the fish to the tinfoil ‘boat’, skin-side down, and spoon over 2/3 of the jam glaze.

Bake at 190 C for about 15-18 minutes, depending on the thickness of your fillets.

Take the saucepan with the remaining glaze off the heat; add 2 Tbs. butter, stirring until it’s incorporated; cover the pan and set it aside until the salmon is done.

Serve the fish right away while it’s hot, spooning some of the remaining, buttery glaze over the top. I served mine with jasmine rice and cucumber carrot slaw (just let thinly sliced cucumber and carrot sit in some rice wine vinegar, two pinches of sugar, salt, ginger, and a few chilis).

It’s simple, posh protein that everyone will love—and it takes no time at all!

For any fish or chicken recipe I tend to follow a glaze rule that includes: one part sweet, one part hot, one part citrus, one part savoury. It’s hard to go wrong. Another great combination is sweet mango or Major Grey’s chutney with the juice of one Clementine, red chili paste, shallot, garlic, and soy.