Big pieca fish

Partly triggered by the move and partly by cumulative irritation, N and I have made a deal: he is to cook a non-sausage dinner once per week and I am not to start conversations when he is in another room (I can think of a million worse habits of mine but apparently this annoys him the most so be it).

Anyhoo, last week I was greeted with . . .

“Big pieca fish with a pongy green sauce, mash and some green things”

I think it was roughly based on a recipe from Nigel Slater’s Appetite, a signed copy of which is now back in my possession, along with my birthday “How to be a domestic goddess” from English housemates, “The Paris Cookbook” bought from Shakespeare & Co in Paris by Nic for Christmas, and some mini-cookbooks from Books for Cooks in Notting Hill (my second favourite bookshop in the world, after S&C).  I could only bring 20 kilos back on the plane from London with me and in the packing frenzy somehow decided that work clothes were more important than cookbooks and fun shoes and have spent the past seven months in wistful longing. Yes, seven months, I daren’t think what customs were doing with it.

 

N’s version went something like this.

1. Fry fish in a big knob of butter (with a little oil to stop the butter burning) for a few minutes on each side then season and put in a hot oven to finish off. I'm not sure what type of fish it was - something white and chunky that he got from the fish shop in Barkly Square.
   
2. Put the leaves of a bunch of flat-leaf parsley, a tablespoon of capers, a bit of Dijon mustard, a clove of garlic, the juice from a lemon, four anchovies, whatever mint could be salvaged from our paltry garden and 2 tablespoons of olive oil in the blender and pulse. Add more oil if it isn’t “saucy” enough.
3. Peel potatoes, boil until soft, drain, put back in pot to dry off, then mash with some warm milk, more butter, salt and white pepper.
4. Steam a token amount of broccoli.
5. Put everything on the plate, spooning sauce over the broccoli, next to the fish and nowhere near the mash because you are too aware of your girlfriend’s idiosyncrasies about food touching.
6. Set table and announce to girlfriend in the other room that dinner is ready (because the rules don't mention anything about you doing it).

'Twas delicious.