STEAMY CATCH OF THE DAY

BBQ’d fish is for the beach: a little sand caked, often overly charcoaled, congregation always anticipating perfection and reliably famished by the time it’s vaguely ready, a collective jig when the fish is successfully flipped with found sticks posturing as pincers and everyone’s overawed. Then we have the fish of holidays past in which we loose ourselves of a chilly February day dream: grilled on fiery hot coals amidst the maelstrom of a miniature caf clinging to the edge of a fraught fish market, heat sodden humidity holding the thick smell of woodsmoke fast to your ever inch - with 0 aplomb your whole and perfectly carbonated fish arrives in timely synchronicity with your collective heatstroke + olives, flat breads, harissa and a mountain of sweet oily chips - THATS what my dreams are made of.

Then there is a different sort of fish, a fish so fresh you cant even smell it as its wetness meets your nose. Dorset hake, right here right here, fresh as a babe and out the sea on a slightly stormy Spring morning.

The countryside is steaming, great weighty clouds emptying their gunnels onto the warm land, no sooner soaked than flooded with sunshine and left to steam as the green gets greener and all of plant life sighs and settles into its new found saturation.

Subconsciously inspired by this spectacle and the sweetness of baby vegetables flying on the wings of Spring, I decided to steam the hake atop a bed of gently simmered carrots, leeks and celery – a little salt and olive oil and a lid on slow simmer kind of thing - then plenty of parsley and the fish laid on top, lid on again on a low tide heat and then it was done. The flesh shines white as a Hollywood smile, the true essence of the fish is preserved and untampered, as delicate as the finest lady. Then comes a hearty dousing of loose, herb spiked mayonnaise, spoons, forks, crusty bread and our plates obediently mirroring the steam rising beyond the window.