There are not many things finer in life than to spend a few Winter hours stumbling around in the dark, on slippery rocks dogged by a howling Southerly after a few could ones above a heaving ocean chasing fish. Uncle Monty and I took home over nine pounds of flesh for our persistence.The Tailor (Pomatomus saltatrix) pictured left, was a tough customer.We had to beach the creature to land it, navigating by torchlight down the slippery rock wall into waist deep water among hidden rock pools and a raging swell. Once back to our spot Uncle Monty bled the fish to maintain the utmost table quality and we headed home.
So tonight I decided to give this glorious fish a simple treatment: served crispy skinned on mash with saffron braised leek and steamed veg.
I won't add a recipe here, all I will say is that I pondered writing a poncy recipe starting "Firstly, catch one five pound tailor at your local surf beach using pilchards on ganged hooks at or around dusk." but realised there are really only so many people who would appreciate such a thing, or be able to do it.
2 comments:
ay, too true, JP, 'tis an art, the fishing bit (as poor JG knows with his tragically persistent trout fishing endeavours). Having just been through the Tsijuku fish market in Tokyo is also a reason to appreciate line caught fish. There's something slightly incongruous about the massive net hauls we saw being filleted alive...
Late to the party but know that lanuage you're talking and it makes the dish taste that much sweeter eating something you've pulled out yourself.
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