bones takes care but is essential, whether you are
philosophically probing your specimen over a leisurely
weekend breakfast or making a kipper pâté. In a nostalgic
moment, and in tune with my penchant for reviving
forgotten dishes, I decided to put kipper pâté on the menu
when we opened Le Cafe Anglais (2007), mainly because
I was serving kippers and thought it would be a prudent
economy to process them every couple of days to preserve
them. Now I buy kippers just to make the pâté, since what
started as a whim has become a stalwart and a good
number of my customers would be reluctant to go without.
17
January
KIPPER PÂTÉ
Although they look more attractive on the other side, I
always present and tackle my kippers skin-side up as it is
easier to peel away the skin and lift the fillets from the bone.
Serves six or eight.
2 large kippers
200g (7oz) unsalted butter,
softened
juice of 2 lemons, strained
3 tablespoons double cream
a pinch of cayenne pepper,
plus extra for sprinkling
black pepper
Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F, Gas Mark 6).
Place the kippers, skin-side up, in a large ovenproof
dish and place 50g (13⁄4oz) of the butter on top. Bake the
kippers in the oven for 15 minutes, then remove and allow
to cool slightly, pouring the rendered butter into a large
heatproof bowl.
Once the kippers are cool, very gently peel back the
skin and discard it. Edge the fillets apart from the ‘frame’
– the back fillet can be lifted away easily and should have
no bone. The belly fillet should be turned over and the pin
bones gently removed with tweezers. Getting every single
piece of bone out is time-consuming but it is important.
Place all the filleted fish in the bowl, add the strained
lemon juice, a twist of black pepper and 100g (31⁄2oz) more
of the butter.
Melt the remaining butter in a small pan or the
microwave, and set it aside.
Blend the fish, lemon juice and butter mixture in a food
processor until quite smooth. Add the cream and cayenne
pepper and blend again until smooth. Check for seasoning
– I never add salt in this instance – then decant the mixture
into small ramekins. Smooth the surface with the back of a
spoon or a small spatula, then sprinkle a little cayenne on
top. Pour a little of the melted butter on top of each one
to create a seal, then refrigerate. The pâtés will keep for a
week in the fridge.
Serve with hard-boiled eggs, watercress and toast.
WINE: The buttery richness of the pâté suggests any
white wine with sufficient acidity and heft. As a change
from my beloved Riesling, perhaps a good Chenin from
the Loire would be equally suitable.
18
Roman Virtues
Puntarella Salad with Anchovies and Seville Orange
I have been asked many questions about my involvement
with Odeon Cinemas’ luxury ‘movies with meals’ project,
the Lounge. One of the most intriguing is the notion that
I might try and theme the meals in accordance with some
of the films. This would present a challenge. Some films
might be comparatively easy: The Artist could have
something French, light and airy – quenelles, perhaps –
and The Iron Lady would undoubtedly feature halibut as
she seemed to be looking forward to it so much. I daresay
I could come up with something for W.E. (cold fish?)
although Shame and Warhorse might well prove more
problematic. The one complete shoo-in would be a
puntarella salad with Coriolanus.
I discovered the strange – but beautiful – puntarella
some twenty years ago. I tore off a stem to eat it raw,
but promptly spat it out in a mouth-puckering state of
disbelief. Untamed, it is about as bitter as chicory can be.
It needs a bit of handling. The outside leaves should be
blanched, then dressed with olive oil and lemon, and
served with roast meat. The stalks are addressed as salad.
These must be soaked in cold water for a couple of hours,
which has the merit of making the shoots even crisper
while also drawing out much of their bitterness.
The
