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СКАЧАТЬ thin slices of peeled root

      ginger

      ½ teaspoon chilli flakes, plus

      extra for sprinkling

      (optional)

      1 large rhubarb stalk

      12 mint or basil leaves

      olive oil, for drizzling

      salt

      Fillet the mackerel as described on page 61. Dip the fillets

      in very cold water and pat dry on kitchen paper.

      Refrigerate until ready to use, lightly salting the flesh side

      20 minutes before cooking.

      Combine the sugar and spices in a very small saucepan

      and add 100ml (31⁄2fl oz) cold water. Bring the mixture to a

      simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Cut the rhubarb into

      finger lengths and then cut each piece into four batons.

      Drop these into the syrup and poach them for 2 minutes,

      or until they just begin to soften. Remove from the heat.

      Heat a non-stick frying pan. Place the mackerel fillets,

      skin-side down, in the dry pan and place a wire rack or

      plate on top to prevent the fillets from curling and to

      ensure all the skin is in contact with the hot pan. Leave the

      fillets to cook for a good 3 minutes – they will release some

      of their oil as they do so – or until you can see the heat

      penetrating up through two-thirds of the fillet. Turn them

      to seal the flesh side very briefly – 30 seconds at most –

      then lift out of the pan.

      Quickly bring the rhubarb back to a simmer. Scatter

      the mint leaves – torn in half, if large – over the fish, then

      arrange the rhubarb on top of the fish, spooning over some

      of the syrup, omitting the star anise, cloves and ginger but

      including the chilli. Sprinkle a few more chilli flakes over

      if liked. Drizzle a little olive oil over the fish and serve.

      Plain pilaff rice is the best accompaniment.

      WINE: The racy acidity of a Sauvignon Blanc is a perfect

      partner for this fish. The upper Loire, from Sancerre and

      Pouilly up to Quincy, Reuilly and Menetou-Salon, provides

      ideal examples.

      63

      February

      I Saw Myself as Leopold Bloom

      Veal Kidneys in Mustard Sauce

      *In James Joyce’s Ulysses,

      ‘Leopold Bloom ate with

      relish the inner organs of

      beasts and fowls.’

      During my sojourn in Hong Kong, I am constantly being

      warned about what Chinese people will or will not eat or

      drink. Some things are true: shellfish is very popular,

      especially served raw. Red wine, despite the climate (or

      perhaps because of it, since every room is air conditioned

      to Arctic temperatures) is favoured over white. Can it be

      true that the Asian palate is averse to salt, when everything

      is served with soy sauce? Will they not eat anchovies,

      when fermented fish is so popular? And how can they not

      like kidneys in this, the home of nose-to-tail eating?

      I do understand why people dislike the idea of eating

      kidneys. After all, their function hardly adds to the

      attraction. Although the function of the brain is much more

      agreeable, I have a vivid enough imagination to not really

      enjoy eating them, however savoury some of my friends

      aver they are. It may just be that the habit of kidney eating

      was instilled in me before I had much idea what they did.

      In those days we ate not veal kidneys, but rather coarse old

      ‘ox’ kidneys in a steak (a euphemism for a ragged old piece

      of stewing beef) and kidney pie, or rich, dark organs

      attached to a pork chop, or lamb kidneys in a mixed grill.

      Because of those early initiations, I never had any

      problem with the kidney. I saw myself as Leopold Bloom,*

      padding the streets of Dublin with a precious kidney

      bought from the ‘ferreteyed pork butcher’ to take home for

      his breakfast. Yet it wasn’t until I worked at Le Gavroche

      that I came across French veal kidneys (from animals kept

      with their mother, rather than in a crate), which were given

      the luscious trois moutardes treatment that I reprise below,

      albeit minus the slightly superfluous tarragon mustard.

      If that remains my default kidney dish and one that

      always appeals, it is not the only one. I cannot resist the

      grilled kidneys with chips and Béarnaise sauce on my rare

      visits to Chez Georges in Paris. A kidney roast in its own

      fat is exquisite, but even I find the mess and the grease

      tiresome. I have been known to sauté them as below but

      with СКАЧАТЬ