Fish Cakes

Fish cakes are definitely a chip shop classic in the south of England. My local chip shop can rustle you up this tasty little patty in no time at all. Recently, with the fall of the chip shop in popular culture, it has become harder to get your hands on one of these tasty little items. It’s a dangerous situation that has offered virtually no reprise; we cannot turn to our local supermarkets for solutions as they only supply these tough, virtually miniscule blobs of overcooked potato and nasty cuts of fish. Maybe the reason for this painful neglect is that fish cakes have been firmly entrenched within the “Kids Food” section of the culinary craft, but they do not necessarily deserve to be. Elegant and beautiful they aren’t, but their taste certainly makes up for it.



There are two kinds of fish cakes in my mind, thanks to the way that aforementioned Chip Shop can prepare them. The first is a flaked fillet of fish with a few herbs, rolled into a ball, bound together with an egg, covered in breadcrumbs and then deep-fried. If done right, they’re quality alongside a portion of thick cut chips, but because of the way they need to be cooked, I usually prefer to leave them at the chippie. The second, the ones I like to prepare at home, has the same base; flaked fish. Only now the fish is mixed with mash potato, shaped into a patty and then shallow fried. As they already have potato inside them, they taste great as a lunch when served alongside a good salad.

Fish Cakes
Yields: Six Cakes

For the filling:

• 450g/1lb of good quality white fish fish; cod and haddock are my faves.
• 450g/1lb of floury potatoes (can’t go wrong with King Edwards)
• 2tbsp chopped parsley.
• 1/2tsp cayenne pepper – more if you’re into that sort of thing.
• Liberal amounts of salt and pepper.
• 1tbsp lemon juice.
• Butter (for the mash - optional)

For the coating:

• 100g crusty bread.
• 1 egg.
• Plain flour.


Method

1. Preheat your oven to gas mark 4. Cut the bread into thin slices and cook on a baking tray for 25 minutes. Tear the bread into chunks and pulse inside a food processor until fine breadcrumbs are formed. If you like your breadcrumbs extra crunchy put back in the oven at Gas Mark 2 for 10 minutes.
2. Poach the fish (put the fish in a single layer on a pan, cover with water, boil, reduce heat to simmer, cover and leave for five minutes) then put on a plate and leave to cool.
3. Peel and boil the potatoes until they’re done (roughly 15 minutes, but it depends on your cooker). Mash the potatoes with a fork, adding a small amount of butter if you want. I tend not to add milk or cream as this makes the overall patties a bit too soft and rebellious.
4. Now the fish has cooked, remove any skin and bones and flake it with a fork. Fold it in with the potatoes – you don’t want to over mash the mixture – alongside parsley, cayenne, lemon juice and salt ‘n pepper. Shape the mixture into six patties and then very lightly coat in flour. This can be quite tricky, as the patties do not normally want to behave. If there is not enough moisture in the mix, add a small amount of egg. Then lightly – and carefully; remember that the patties can be rebellious - coat with a beaten egg and finally coat in a thick layer of breadcrumbs. At this point they can be chilled for about a day, but leave them in the fridge for at least an hour.
5. Heat about 3tbsp of a suitable oil (something with a high smoke point and quite flavourless – sunflower or rapeseed are good choices) in a large frying pan and cook the patties in two batches of three for five minutes a side – or until golden brown (whichever comes first). Pat the excess oil off the fish cakes with a paper towel and serve.

Of course, the size of your patties can vary depending on personal preference. Make a smaller patty and they’ll fry quicker, plus you’ll get a crispier overall fish cake. Make them even bigger and you’ll get the opposite. Remember though, that a bigger patty can lead to the whole thing falling apart when you try and get the breadcrumbs on them. I think the most you can get out of these amounts is 10 tiny little ones (similar shape to the ones you get from Tesco) and the biggest you can make is 4. It’s all up to you, really.

Dieting Kills

The Guardian has a report up today about a study carried out in Finland among the overweight and the obese which argues that dieting may actually weaken your body and cause you to die early anyway. Couple this with an article they had in the Weekend magazine a couple of weeks ago about how the young of today are so overweight they're going to die before their parents, and you're left with quite a morbid picture growing.

Which inspires the inner worrymonger inside my mind to scream "oh god Oh God OH GOD" over and over again. My current BMI is about 29, which is technically borderline obese, but four years ago it was about 38. Normally this would be a cause for celebration and congratulatory "you're on the right track!" messages from friends and co-workers, but now i'm being forced to spend the afternoon searching for ways to check if my lean organs have enough fat on them.

But, what I really want to do is eat a nice big comfort cake. With ice cream and strawberry syrup. Only stuff like that causes you to gain weight. Which will mean you'll die of heart disease or something nasty like that. But now, if I don't have one, my lean organs will pack up.

I suppose the mother nature's message is that you're damned eitherway.

IMBB #16 II - Ham ‘n Mushroom Eggs en Cocotte

Two egg based recipes? In one weekend? Ludicrous! How is that even possible? Long story short, I have a busy mind and had plenty of eggs leftover this weekend. I'm not too sure if trying to enter two things into an IMBB is generally frowned upon, but these eggs surely would have gone to waste if I didn't do something! I was pushed to the edge, ok? Anyway, here it is:



Why Eggs en Cocotte? The answer is, like so many answers are, twofold. Firstly, I had ramekins. Secondly, it’s a recipe that you can use to dazzle and amaze people - “oh, Eggs en Cocotte! Other than the word eggs, I have no idea what that means in the slightest! It’s also French sounding, it must be amazing! Bravo!” - whilst not really doing much work in the kitchen. Some might say that’s a kind of laziness, but I prefer to think of it as bit of sharp thinking. Oh, and they’re also tasty.

Let’s break it down; “en Cocotte” means “cooked in a casserole”. Eggs cooked in a casserole, then. Well, at least some ramekins. Break it down a bit more, and you can just think of it as “Baked Eggs”. What are these incredible baked eggs good for? Well, they’re a nice starter or light lunch. As for what goes inside one of these things, it’s relatively up to you, as long as you’re aware of the process; layer of stuff on the bottom, an egg cracked on top of that, some double (heavy) cream on top of that followed by some cheese. Those are very loose guidelines, too. I think the only requirement is an egg in a ramekin. Anyways, make up your mixture, plop it in the oven and let the hefty heatbox work its mighty mojo on the marvellous concoction, slap on plate and elegantly ram into mouth whilst chewing.

Whilst we are on the subject of chewing and mouths, these things taste like a fancier boiled egg. This is because that’s almost exactly what they are. Instead of a shell, they have a layer of something beneath and a layer of cheese on top. If boiled eggs make you gag, then these will too. If you want an apt metaphor; eggs en cocotte is the brother of soft boiled eggs who got the good looks and then went on to university and graduated. That’s not to say boiled eggs aren’t worthy of ingestion – because they are. Breaking open an egg shell with the back of your teaspoon whilst not cracking it up and making a pigs’ ear of the whole thing is like a fun food challenge. So, boiled eggs are good, and so is eggs en cocotte. On with the recipe!

Ham ‘n Mushroom Eggs en Cocotte
Yields: 4 servings

• 20g Butter
• 1 Small Onion (half a bigg’in), chopped
• 75g Button Mushrooms, chopped
• 75g Cooked Ham, sliced
• 4 Large Eggs
• 4 tsp Double (Heavy) Cream
• 40g Mozarella Cheese (can substitute with any hard cheese)
• Salt and Pepper to taste

Method

1. Pop the oven on to 200C/400F/Gas Mark 6. Melt some butter in a good sized saucepan until it’s good to cook with, then sweat the onions until they are soft.
2. Add mushrooms and ham to the pan and continue to cook till the mixture is quite dry (if there’s much moisture left it’ll become a greasy mess at the bottom of the ramekin) and season with a little salt and pepper.
3. Spoon the mixture into the bottom of four ramekins (lightly butter them first). Break an egg into each one, add a little seasoning if you want, and then drizzle over the cream. Feel free to add or omit cream to your preference. Finally, top the ramekins with the cheese
4. Get the ramekins into a little roasting tin, and then fill the tin with hot (not boiling) water until it reaches about half way on the ramekins.
5. Bake for 15 minutes (little longer if you want hard yolks – about 18, but remember that the eggs will keep cooking after you take them out the oven)
6. Serve with whatever you’d like; salad, toasty soldiers, etc.

Perhaps the real trick of these things is in their versatility. You can put pretty much anything on the bottom layer and leftovers can (and do) work a treat. Don’t like onions? Leave them out. Hell, scrap ham and mushroom altogether and put some salmon down there. Or try a simple tomato sauce. Or both! You can even leave the bottom layer and the cheese out altogether; shave some truffles on top of a duck egg and you’ve got an even fancier version which is nice enough but, personally, I’m still fond of the ham and mushroom ones.

IMBB #16 - French “Eggy Bread” Toast with Strawberry Compote

Warning: This entry contains a pun using the word egg. Readers with a sense of good taste are advised to block it from their memory the second they see it.



My desire to enter an IMBB started roughly about the same time as I started wanting to write a food blog. The two pretty much go hand in hand. Coincidentally, I also want to start entering into some Paper Chef’s at the end of the month. I think the mixture of a more relaxed cooking event alongside a stricter one seems like a beautiful way to enjoy a hobby. Back to the matter at hand; Eggs. Having such a loose theme as eggs really roughed me over when I started thinking about it. With its wide range of stuff to choose from, I was ever so slightly overwhelmed. I’m still pretty unsure as to my final choices. What would make the best egg themed impression? Does it have to use a whole egg, not just whites or yolk? Should I try and steal the recipe to Cadburys’ Crème Egg and make those? I did get it down to one result, but only after I promised myself that I would only work on things that I found quintessentially eggy. So, I decided to go with some French Toast.

Oh, and for the sake of accuracy, I noticed a little discrepancy in Vivant’s egg-stensive (only pun, I promise) announcement; “Eggs are never boring”. Tell that to Tescos’ Healthy Eating 74p Egg Mayonnaise Sandwich. It is – just about – the most boring thing that I’ve ever tasted. I can provide proof of this, if necessary.

But, anyway, French Toast. It doesn’t taste like toast, and it doesn’t have anything French in it. If you’re American, you (apparently) have renamed it to Freedom Toast. Why? I don’t really know. Seems like a quick attempt to label the French as sods. Might as well have renamed it “Froggy Stink French Man Toast”, but I doubt that would have worked in Diners. Anyways, it’s not like French Toast doesn’t have its fair share of names. The English, apparently, call it “Poor Knights of Windsor”, even though I’ve never heard anyone call it that in my entire life. I’m sure it just perpetuates the image of us English and our culinary tastes:
“Fancy a couple of slices of Poor Knights of Windsor, love?”
“Oh, yes please. Pop it on a plate with a crumpet and make us a cuppa tea”. Delightful. The French themselves have (allegedly) named it “Pain Perdu”, and for them it originally started existing as a way to use up stale old French bread, and it certainly works. If we go back to America, one certain train of thought is that it was invented in Albany by a man named Joe French in 1724 and it’s just as American as apple pie. The whole “French Toast” thing is a big ol’ misunderstanding because Joe French was just too gosh darn silly to understand simple grammar (it should have been French’s Toast). There’s a certain amusing factor if we consider this argument; an entire recipe thrown into historical mystery because of a grammatical error. Quaint. Basically, no one has any real idea where it was derived from. My money is on multiple sources; I doubt it took a true visionary to dab some bread into eggs and the patent office was hardly existent in those days.

Outside of the world of history and chronology, everyone I know just calls it Eggy Bread (and not Poor Knights of Windsor). It’s one of the first things I can remember making and in my life, and definitely the first thing I can remember producing on a regular basis that was fairly reliant on having Eggs inside it. What could be eggier? The trouble is that I very rarely see it anymore. It seems to have slipped off the radar off my friends and family for some unbeknownst reason – perhaps it’s too easy? Perhaps people don’t like the sound of eggy bread? – and the chances of seeing it in a café where I am is far too remote.

I mentioned it was easy, right?

Basic Eggy Bread
Makes two slices – enough to feed one person. Double quantities to feed two, and so on.

80ml semi-skimmed milk (If you have whole fat milk then you can just throw some of that in and omit the cream, but I usually drink semi skimmed so I add the cream when I need it.)
1 Large Egg
1 tbsp Sugar
2 thick slices of bread (Brioche is a mighty fine choice, but almost anything will work a treat. I’m using a slice of a Tiger Loaf in my photo because that’s all I had left)
1 tbsp double cream (heavy cream across the pond.)

Strawberry Compote

A compote is a overly fancy term to describe the very basic process of slowly cooking fruit in sugar. Slow cooking is essential, as you want the fruit to retain its shape.

300g Strawberries, Hulled (I usually half them if they’re monster sized but small ones I keep whole)
100g Sugar
Juice of a lemon

Method

1. Start by mixing the eggy bread ingredients – minus the bread – together and then pour into a shallow dish. Dunk the bread in, let it soak for a few seconds and then flip it over. Leave this for a good ten minutes. Fifteen is perfect. Luckily, this gives you enough time to make compote.
2. Slap the strawberries into a saucepan with the sugar and lemon juice. Melt the mixture until it’s a liquid, then bring it to the boil. Then, let the thing simmer and leave it for a while. It will bubble away happily in the corner of your stove without you paying it a lot of attention, but check back every five minutes to check on the fruit. You want the mixture to be jammy and the fruits to be on the verge of collapsing. When it reaches that state, take it off the heat and leave it until you’re ready to serve.
3. At this point, you’ll want to get some oil in a nice medium heat pan. Butter is the flavour fans choice of fat for this, so use some of that. If you’re all out (why?) then something that is flavourless – sunflower? – can be an alternative.
4. Slap the bread into the pan. It should be making a nice, light sizzling noise. If it’s not, turn the heat up a bit until it is then turn it back down again. Leave on this medium heat until a nice crust has formed on one side (usually about three minutes on mine) then flip over and repeat the process.
5. Take the toast off the pan and soak up some excess fat with a paper towl. Get it on to your plate and then spoon over some compote and some extra thick or whipped cream. Eat.

The whole thing takes about fifteen minutes and provides you with a good and warm, sweet breakfast. It’s a versatile dish, too. When strawberries are out of season, you can make great compote out of some cooking apples and put in a teaspoon of cinnamon into your eggy bread mixture. Voila – a summery treat has magically transmogrified into a super autumn one. Some might say that it’s magic.

Inauguration

Oh, just what the world needs! Another food blog! The first post is, naturally, a prerequisite of a good journal. It will serve as a beacon to the universe that the owner has set his sights up high and has forayed into the wonderful world of the online journal. The blog owner can look back on his (or her, if you’re one of those women types) journal in a few years and conjure up a bemused laugh at his (or, again, her) inept writing style and lousy pictures of substandard food (interchange terms with whatever your blog is about)

So, yes, this is my blog. I eat food. I will now combine the two.