Halibut, that most meaty of fish, has cod’s soft flavor but tuna’s tougher texture. This fish eats like a man’s meal, unlike like (still satisfying) 'single girl salmon' (see below). Though Seemon and I forego true telly, particularly of the British persuasion, I have an unfulfilled hankering for food shows like those that distracted me throughout my college days. Barefoot Contessa, Giada de Laurentis, and even Rachel Ray, the slacker's "chef"– each had a place in my heart and on my bookshelf. In London, I fill my food-newtork void with Jamie Oliver, Saturday Kitchen (if I manage to abort my Saturday sleep and put up with the inane chit chat between segments), occasional specials from Nigella Lawson, and a garden-centric series from Nigel Slater. Sidenote: Oh, Nigel! I actually fell in love with him several summers ago, only to have my heart wounded upon discovering that he’d ‘come out’ several decades ago- regardless, The Kitchen Diaries is one of my keynote cookbooks. The newest addition to my repertoire, not to mention my BBC iPlayer, is Sophie Dahl and her BBC Two series, The Delicious Miss Dahl.
A model who has admittedly shifted from round Rubens into a slip of a girl, Dahl not only has beguiling eyes only matched by her ample bosom, but has managed to write a rather philosophical cookbook. Though I cannot trust a skinny cook, and she is currently just that, her fleshy past lends her clout. So does her literary ancestry. As her surname suggests, the cook's grandfather is Roald Dahl, and it seems that some of his descriptive prowess has trickled through the generations to puddle on his granddaughter's tongue. On screen, Sophie’s strong, sensual, and highly metaphorical language makes her food more promising than her poor chopping skills would suggest.
And so, after a cozy evening watching Miss Dahl moon over ‘selfish’ dishes in a cavernous, shabby-chic kitchen, I was seduced into making the meal presented. The vegetable box, and my running mind, quickly adjusted a menu of roasted halibut, seared mushrooms, and sweet potato chips with watercress sauce. We would dine on that same firm fish alongside purple sprouting broccoli anointed with anchovy butter; parsnip chips; and a similar sauce spiked not by watercress but by far superior wild garlic leaves. All ingredients were on hand but for fish, and so I splurged at Notting Hill Gate's James Knight and parted with £20 for 300 fragrant grams. Please not that James deals in fish, not drugs. The hefty price is worth it for the performance of Mayfair's finest fishmongers, who are physically adorable and offer tidbits of information and advice. For example, a halibut is born with eyes on either side of its flat face. As their schnitzel-like bodies swim parallel to the ground, one eye slowly joins the other. 'Bit like me on a Friday night', my fish-cutting cutie quipped.
The best part of Sophie's recipe is how the fish gets cooked. I’ve always aimed for a restaurant quality crisp atop my fillet, but how elusive that crème brûlée crunch has been 'til now. Ever-fickle fish demands perfect timing, and my roasting/ searing/ grilling efforts, while never producing caramel crust, oft begat a mealy middle or mangled skin. Sear then roast, says SD, as you might treat a chicken breast or steak. But is fish too delicate for such roughhousing? This masculine fish suffered through my woman-handling with barely a bruise.
Another 'aha' moment came when our chic chef slip-dressed the fish in olive oil before seasoning, supposedly to avoid using to much oil (shut up, sylph). I say it’s a solid technique that won't miss any fishy flesh and leaves no remaining pools to shimmer-up the kitchen. I added another tablespoon mid-cooking (shhhhhhh) to ensure that no molecule was left behind, and when my filets wriggled freely from the pan, I knew it was time to flip and plonk all into the oven.
A few minutes later– the broccoli steamed and tossed, the parsnips blanched and roasted, the sauce assembled first thing– dinner was ready, and all within an hour's prep time. As Seemon will let you know, that's an occasion more rare than loaves into fishes.
Sauce was lovely, though I wish I'd whizzed it instead of rough-chopping and folding. Components were slightly too pronounced, and the texture didn't drape as it might wish. To crème fraîche on hand, I added lemon zest, parsley, and blanched, chopped wild garlic leaves hefted by salad remnants. Use as many greens as you can, as they reduce into a shocking few tablespoons, and do seek out the gift of wild garlic, which lends essence without turning your subtle slather into tzatziki.
The Delicious Miss Dahl's recipes can be found here, from which I recommend taking and twisting:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/roastedhalibutwithsp_93632.shtml
I am not nearly as pretty as the divine Miss Dahl, but my dish riff offers the fair competition my looks cannot. This really was the most crave-worthy fish I have consumed outside of a restaurant, and even then only a restaurant in possession of a deep-fat fryer and an in-house fishmonger.
