Fried Fish with Garlic Lemon Butter Caper Sauce

As I watch little C march out into summer school in her fluffy skirt and sleeveless top (summer!) and her electric blue flats, I realize, once again, how quickly time flies.  It seems like only yesterday she was a helpless little thing who would wake up every 2 hours needing to be fed, breath smelling sweetly of milk.  Now she is a far from helpless, fiercely independent little firecracker with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of her own opinion.  Her breath, suffice to say, does not smell sweetly of milk anymore, and she is, most of the time, breathless and sweaty from how much she runs around (plus, it’s summer!).  I want to hang on to every bit of unrestrained laughter, every bedtime story/tuck-in (no matter how much irrational delaying tactics play a part), every sticky hug, every little moment.

I’ve never been a motherly person.  Little C has been, and still is, the only infant I have ever held in my life.  I have never been absolutely confortable with children, and I can’t say, my own aside, that I am now.  It still takes me by surprise that it’s taken just this one cherry bomb to turn me into a mother.  And of all the things, in these past three years, that I have done with her, the one thing that makes me feel the mother-child connection the most is feeding her.

I don’t mean nursing…although I did do that for the first year of her life.  I mean feeding her actual food.  The food I make and the food I eat.  Carefully picking choice bits from my plate and placing them in her waiting mouth.  Especially if I’m doing it with my hands.  I feel like I am taking part in a ritual older than time, something billions of mothers did before me.  That careful, deliberate, passing on of nourishment.

As soon as the simple days of food introduction where done, and food allergies were ruled out, I tried to give her food that was not too different from what we ourselves ate (just being cautious about salt and sugar).  I wanted her to try as much as she could, and to know and appreciate where this food comes from.  We would bring her to market (we still do) and show her whole fish and vegetables with the dirt still on them.   She loves the fishmongers stall…particularly the live crabs and the fish.  And I, in turn, love showing her that fish come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.  I don’t know many nursery rhymes or children’s games or arts and crafts, but that I do know.  And that I can teach.

Fried Fish with Garlic Lemon Butter Caper Sauce

• Oil for frying
• 1 large dapa (flounder?), approximately 1 kilo
• 2 tablespoons flour
• Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper
• 6 garlic cloves, chopped
• 2 tablespoons capers
• 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons butter
• juice from half a lemon

- Season your fish on both sides, and inside the cavity, with salt and pepper.  Dust with the flour and shake of excess.

- Heat a frying pan over medium high heat.  When hot, add enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan in a thin layer.

- Add the fish gently to the hot oil.  Fry until golden brown and then flip to cook the other side.  Cook until the other side is likewise golden and the fish is cooked through.  Remove from the pan.

- Drain the oil from the pan and wipe dry.  Return the pay to the heat and add the butter.  When the butter is melted and bubbling, add the garlic.  Let the garlic fry until fragrant, this happens fairly quickly.  Add the capers and let's this fry for a bit.  Remove the pan from the heat ad add the lemon juice.  Mix well and transfer the sauce into a dish.  

- Serve the fish with the sauce on the side long with some lemon wedges for those who want them.

I used one whole fish here – a dapa (which I think is related to flounder? anyone?) weighing in at almost 1 kilo.  This was actually a little too big for my tastes, I like fish to be a bit smaller when fried whole (this size I like baked, or steamed in the oven in this big old covered baking dish I won at a costume party…I was a school teacher).  C however loved its meaty abundance.  You can use almost any fish for this though.  A couple of smaller tilapias would do nicely, or a small lapu-lapu.  Or whatever fish is fresh and readily available where you are.  You can certainly use fillets as well, although if you are able to get fresh whole fish on the bone I encourage you to do so as they are really delicious. 

You can scale the quantities for the sauce up if you expect to use a lot.  Actually, I think that would be a good idea.  We had this with steaming hot rice and I loved the sauce both smothered on my fish as well as squashed into my rice.  It's a notch above regular lemon butter sauce and packs a lot more flavor.

Little C is not the perfect eater, and now that she has her own opinions it is not as easy to get her to try everything, but she does love her fishies, especially if she sees them on the bone.  In fact, she seems to enjoy fish best when she sees me picking the meat for her from a whole fish on my plate.  And I never feel as “earth mother” as when I am doing just that.  That, at least, is one big mission accomplished in my book.

Breakfast #67: Frittata with Fried Bread and Cheese

Days have been busy and the summer heat is not letting up.  I console myself with the hypnotic, almost unbearably sweet smell of summer fruits ripening in my fruit bowl, mangoes and pineapple.  The fruit bowl I put square in the middle of my dining room table, serving as both a receptacle for sustenance and colorful decoration, making me feel smugly thrifty.

I do like to think that I am a thrifty person.  I know how to indulge, that much is certain.  I have certainly parted with hard earned pennies for things I view as pleasures.  Maybe it’s because I feel strongly that each of us deserves a treat every now a then (or more).  If we won’t treat ourselves, who else will right?  So yes, I do indulge and have nothing against spending what I can on things I believe will bring me joy (without breaking the bank of course).

I suppose what I really consider my thrifty side is the side that can’t abide by waste, especially food waste.  I’ve spoken about it before and perhaps you’ve noticed that every once in a while I’ve posted about ways to avoid food waste or dishes made with leftovers or other odds and ends.  I always get a sense of girl-scouty satisfaction every time I am able to use something that might have otherwise ended up in the waste bin.

This is a dish that does that.

Frittata with Fried Bread and Cheese

(Adapted from Ilva of Lucullian Delights)

• Olive oil
• 1-2 slices day-old bread, torn or chopped into chunky cubes
• 3-4 tablespoons cooked peas
• 4 eggs, whisked
• 3-4 tablespoons grated cheese

- Heat a good swirl of olive oil in an 8-inch skillet.  When the oil is hot, add the bread cubes and toast, turning once or twice, until all sides are deeply golden and toasted.  Remove from pan and set aside.

- If the pan is dry, as the bread tends to sip up all the oil, add another generous swirl of olive oil.  Add the peas and toss once or twice, just to warm them up.  Add the bread back and try to distribute the peas and bread evenly around the pan without making too big a deal of it.  Pour in the eggs and cook over low heat until almost everything is set.  I sometimes cover the pan towards the end just to speed this process up.

- When the eggs are almost set, through still wet in the middle, sprinkle the cheese over the top and transfer the pan underneath a pre-heated grill and grill until the cheese is melted.  This happens very fast so do not leave your grill!

- Serve warm, although I’ve had this at room temperature to no ill effects.

How much bread you use will depend on the size of your slices.  You could use only one, or may need two.  What I do is place my bread cubes into my skillet (an 8-inch skillet is just right for this frittata) and judge from there if I need to add more.  I like the bread to be evenly distributed throughout the pan without filling it up entirely.

This will make a lovely breakfast or brunch (or lunch) for two.  I had this with little C and we had enough leftover for a midafternoon snack for me.

I love so many things about this simple frittata.  Firstly, it is a fantastic way to make use of old bread!  I mention day-old bread in the recipe but truthfully I have never made this with bread only a day old.  I will go out on a limb here and confess that I often use bread that is already scratching-the-limits-of-decency old.  Old bread has the heft and structure that lends itself perfectly to toasting in olive oil and then cooking in runny eggs…softening just enough without ever getting soggy.  I have a bag of bread past its prime in the fridge especially for dishes like this (or for French toast…or bread crumbs).

This frittata is also a great way to make use of other leftovers.  Here I’ve used some leftover peas, and some grated cheese from another recipe that needed using up.  You can add whatever leftovers you have in sitting your fridge though that pairs well with egg (and that means a lot) – ham, bacon, potatoes, tuna, most vegetables, or herbs.  I imagine this would also be excellent with some sautéed onions mixed through, and then topped with Gruyere.  You can use any cheese you have on hand. 

Also, it makes for a nice light meal…so if you have any leftover chocolate cake lounging around somewhere you can feel fully justified in polishing that off and further cleaning your fridge out.  Lastly, it’s delicious!

If you have any good ideas for old bread, or for leftovers in general, do share. Meanwhile, let’s continue the battle against food waste!

Have a great and sunny weekend folks!  If it’s not summer where you are, send a cool breeze my way? ;)

Nigella’s Mother-in-Law’s Madeira Cake

I am that type of person that usually drifts towards the more chocolate offerings on a dessert menu.  I am, by far, unapologetically and absolutely, a chocolate person.  The darker, the better.  The more layers of it, the happier I am.  Chocolate chip brownies a la mode with chocolate ice cream?  I am all for it.  Chocolate soufflé with chocolate sauce?  Yes, please.  Nothing pleases my soul more (except for chicharon and bacon which are, to me, chocolate’s savory equivalent…a gift from the gods).

That said, I also have this uncanny, and opposing, love for plain yellow loaf cakes.  Yes, true.  I won’t even say pound cakes or butter cakes because they don’t really have to be either.  They just have to be a sunny, unfancy, yellow loaf and the same part of me that loves hot chicken soup and my baby pillow cries out for it.  There is something in its comforting solidity, its familiarity and plainness, that makes me want to take a thick slice and just cozy up to it.

They are also, usually, a breeze to throw together, so a craving is never too far from sated.  This one is no exception.  It’s been on my to-make list since I bought this cookbook, my beloved copy of Nigella’s How To Be A Domestic Goddess.  Predictably though, I was waylaid by several chocolate recipes before I could get to this one.  I’m so glad I finally did.

Nigella’s Mother-in-Law’s Madeira Cake

(slightly adapted from Nigella Lawson’s How To Be A Domestic Goddess)

• 240 grams softened unsalted butter
• 200 grams caster sugar, plus 2 tablespoons for sprinkling
• Grated zest and juice of one lemon
• 3 large eggs
• 300 grams all purpose flour
• 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

- Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, and then mix in the lemon zest.

- Add the eggs to the butter/sugar mixture, one at a time, with a tablespoon of flour for each.

- Gently mix in the rest of the flour, to which you have whisked in the baking powder.  Add the lemon juice and mix until just combined.

- Scrape the batter into a buttered and parchment-lined loaf pan and sprinkle the 2 tablespoons sugar on top.  Bake in a pre-heated 170C oven for 55 minutes – 1 hour or until a skewer comes out clean.

- Remove from the oven to a wire rack and cool in the pan for 10 minutes.  Remove from the pan and cool completely on the wire rack.

I’ve amended this recipe somewhat as the original calls for self-raising flour, which is hard to come by in these parts, so I substituted with regular flour and baking powder.  Nigella also let’s this cake cool completely in the tin on a rack but I prefer to remove the cake from the tin after it’s cooled for about 10 minutes.

Let me just say, at this point, amendments aside, that this book has yet to fail me.  All the recipes I have tried thus far I have liked, if not loved.  My first ever post on this blog, seven years ago, was about the Burnt-Butter Brown-Sugar Cupcakes from this book.  I’ve also tried the Dense Chocolate Loaf Cake, Store-Cupboard Chocolate Orange Cake, and Torta Alla Gianduja…all to great response.  I even love her Spiced Apple Chutney, which I have made many times since, and has served me well in the homemade gift-giving department.  So, firstly, thank you Nigella!

This recipe one is no different from the others I’ve tried – a winner.  For me at least who does love this sort of cake, and even for C who usually doesn’t.  It bakes into a wonderful golden loaf, with a soft buttery crumb, and a sugar encrusted, crackly top.  A traditional British teatime cake, I can also imagine this would make an excellent base for that other traditional British sweet, the trifle.  Nigella’s, or rather, Nigella’s mother-in-law’s version is light and lemony.  It is lovely on its own (or indeed with a cup of tea) or topped with fruits and cream, or, if your feeling indulgent, a generous scoop of ice cream.

The week’s almost over so hang in there troops…heat and power outages be damned!  And here’s to baking your cake, no matter what flavor or color, and eating it too!

Baked Fish Fillet with Tomato, Olive, and Capers

Do you know that time between grocery trips when your vegetable crisper, fridge, and pantry are at their leanest?  I know that time all too well.  Despite my love for cooking, and my aspirations at domesticity (what with homemade stock, cookie dough in the freezer, and all that jazz), I am nowhere near the experienced homemaker.  I haven’t yet perfected the art of regularly scheduled grocery trips and sometimes let the ideal time for such trips slip past me.  This leaves me with little choices for mealtimes, my poor daughter out of eggs (one of her favorite breakfasts), and my husband woefully eking out what it left in the toothpaste tube.

In any case, I make no claims at being an accomplished house-keeper.  Between work and life and toddler swim classes, things like the grocery sometimes fall by the wayside (unlike the market, which I seem to be devoted to…hmmm).  If you find yourself in similar straits (high five fellow human!) this dish is for you.  Almost everything here is made from pantry staples. 

The fish fillets I had in my freezer.  They were already-portioned pieces of a new brand I had been wanting to try.  I know I extoll buying fresh seafood, especially as we live in a magnificent tropical archipelago, but I also like keeping a pack of frozen fillets for just such emergencies as this.  Olives, capers, and anchovies are regulars in my pantry and I can almost always count on finding a bottle or tin of one or the other rattling around.  I can’t recommend them enough.  They are easy to have on hand and are instant flavor boosters.  And I can usually count of having a few tomatoes or a lone lemon straggling about somewhere.

Baked Fish Fillet with Tomato, Olive, and Capers

• 500 grams fish fillet, cut into serving portions (I used cod)
• Extra virgin olive oil
• Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper
• 1 lemon
• 1 white onion, chopped
• 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 4 small native tomatoes, chopped
• 3 anchovy fillets, chopped
• 1 tablespoon capers, packed and very roughly chopped
• 1/3 cup green olives, very roughly chopped

- Pat the fish fillets dry and place them in a baking tray.  I like to line mine with parchment but you certainly don’t have to.  Drizzle the fillets with olive oil.  Zest about half of the lemon over the fish.  Cut the lemon in half and spritz the fillets with half the lemon juice.  Sprinkle with just a touch of salt (your topping will be salty enough) and a good cracking of black pepper.  Place in a pre-heated 400F oven and baked for 12-15 minutes or until fillets as just cooked.  You know they are cooked when the meat flakes easily when poked with a small knife.

- While the fish is baking, heat a skillet over medium high heat.  When the pan is hot add a couple of generous swirls of olive oil.  Add the onion and garlic, and sauté until the onion is soft and translucent.  Add the tomatoes and toss.  Sauté until the tomatoes just start to soften but still maintain their shape.  Add the anchovies and mix through, crushing them as you do.  Add the capers and olives and toss.  Cook for about a minute more then take off the heat.  Add a drizzle of olive oil, some cracked black pepper, and toss one last time.  Set aside.

- When the fish is done top each portion with the tomato mixture and serve.

Just some notes: When I say the capers and olives are very roughly chopped, I do mean roughly chopped.  No need to bother about same-sized pieces or uniformity of any kind.  For the capers I just place the pile under my knife and, quite literally, in two chops the work is done.  You don’t want little caper pieces; you just want to open them up a bit.  For the olives I use a little bit more than two chops but still, they remain messily uneven, some pieces bigger then others.  That is exactly the way it should be.  Everything about this topping, sauté, chunky sauce (call it what you will) is rough and unapologetic.  If you lucky enough to have some roasted red peppers lounging in your fridge somewhere, or perhaps the last of your fresh herbs, please feel free to add them in too.

You can use any white-fleshed fish fillet here, or, actually, any fish fillets at all.  I used Atlantic cod, but cobbler, dory, tilapia, or halibut would do just as nicely.  In fact, you could even bake a whole fish on the bone and top with this tomato-olive-caper sauté and I think it would work excellently as well.  This topping is as flexible as it is tasty. Use it for steamed chicken, atop a bunch of sautéed shrimp, or to stuff a baked potato.   I would even pile it on a thick slice of artisan bread, top with a fried egg, and call it brunch.

What do you like to throw together when the cupboard is almost bare?