Sorrel Pesto - a.k.a Sour Duck Sauce

When I was little, I was a pretty good little forager. My folks fed me, I just liked to find things to eat in the ditch, on the lawn, in the woods or anywhere other than the conventional.

I ate, what we called, tea berries, fiddleheads (I am sure I likely ate some other ferns as well), blueberries from wherever I could find them, blackberries and wild raspberries, with scratches and scars to prove it and carefully guarded patches of wild strawberries spared the blades of the lawnmower. One of my greatest discoveries was sour ducks. I have no idea who introduced me to them or what possesses a fairly functional eight year old to eat sour weeds from the lawn but I would walk, head down, looking for the tell tale wispy red heads of the plant, all summer long. 

I tried to figure out what these things were, I was sure that it wasn’t really called sour duck. I asked lots of people, none seemed to have a clue what I was talking about and would raise an eyebrow. I, while by no means searching relentlessly, never gave up, my curiosity was still there.

Imagine my excitement and joy to be alive, when I finally realized what it was. It is actually an edible plant, in small quantities. Large quantities are apparently poisonous. A plant used, more and more, in food created by master chefs, not just hedgerow foragers. It is sorrel. 

While I am sure that what I ate, and what grows in my lawn, is a different variety to what grows, somewhat wildly and accidentally, in my garden, there is no mistaking the sour grassy taste of what is properly called sour dock, not sour duck.

While I like to make a chiffonade and add it to a salad, I understand that the raw, unadulterated flavour may not be to everyone’s taste. My girls seem to enjoy eating it straight out of the garden. Poppy put a few leaves on her lobster sandwich the other day and I realized that, mixed into some mayonnaise, it would be delicious with cold fish or seafood.

Sorrel has become popular as a cream sauce or butter flavour, especially in Europe, which is delicious when executed properly. In our CSA this past winter, we had bunches of the stuff and decided a pesto would be a great way to diversify its uses.

If you don’t have sorrel in your herb garden yet, I want to suggest you get a little pot and pop it in there. I did this last year and had a pretty unsuccessful crop, the bugs ate far more than we did. I didn’t expect it to survive the winter but I now have a big patch of limey green spinach like leaves which the bigs don’t even seem to be able to keep up with. 

I have used this to stuff salmon or spread it on top as a crust. It makes a delish primavera style pasta too. If you find the taste too sour, add an equal amount of fresh parsley and adjust the seasoning.

Sorrel Pesto

Large handful sorrel leaves (plus large handful of parsley if you are using)

1/2 cup slivered almonds (substitute pine nuts if you want to)

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup olive oil

3 cloves garlic 

Tear or chop sorrel leaves. In the bowl of your food processor, purée all the ingredients until smooth. 

Place in clean container and refrigerate until ready to use.

This is what I did with the latest batch.

Seaweed Sprinkles

I had a call from our ‘fish guy’ the other evening announcing the arrival of some fresh scallops and asking if I wanted any. I managed to not shout down the phone in glee, and calmly replied that yes, we would indeed like some scallops the following day.

My brother swears that scallops shouldn’t be eaten if they have been cooked - plain and raw is the way forward for him. My mother is all for Scallops on the Half Shell - cooked on a scallop shell with butter, milk and cracker crumbs. In England, it is pretty trendy to serve scallops with the love it or hate it black pudding and served with everything from apple chutney or minted pea puree to risotto or mashed potatoes. This treatment, as far as I am concerned, is sacrilege. Who wants a stinking disc of fried bloody porridge served along something so sublime as a fresh scallop. Some believe simple is best and feel that all this sea candy, as my nephew calls them, requires is a hot pan and a lot of butter.

I tend to fall somewhere between my brother and simplicity, not leaving much room for playing around. Given this, you would think I would not have been kept awake by thoughts of scallop preparation and supper plans for tomorrow’s supper. I was thinking of ceviche but I was also thinking of scallops inspired by something I had recently read about.

In Apples to Oysters, Margaret Webb visits Dark Harbour on Grand Manan Island in New Brunswick to learn about what is considered to be the best dulse in the world. Now, I am no raving fan of dulse. I find that its almost fishy sea taste reminds me of a milder version of some concentrated organic fertilizer I had that was made from fermented fish and seaweed. I don’t enjoy the texture of big pieces of the dried stuff as it rehydrates in my mouth. So, it was a surprise that during our blue potato bonanza, I put a bag of dulse in the basket with the spuds and apples.

This stuff is good for you, chock full of vitamins and nutrients. Dulse kept the inhabitants of Port Royal scurvy free after they were introduced to it by First Nations peoples. It is impossible to overpick because of its regeneration cycle. There is no impact from chemical fertilizers, there is no unwanted byproduct of its production and, other than its picking, there is no labour involved in its growing. Could it be the perfect food? Maybe, if we can solve that sticky problem of taste and texture.

Webb gives brief details of drying the dulse out further and crumbling it to flakes for sprinkling in chowder, frying it to use as bacon in a BLT and microwaving it to make chips.

I was thinking about pan seared scallops with dulse sprinkles. Sprinkles make everything taste better. And, dulse sprinkles make everything taste oceanier.

Pan Seared Sea Scallops with Dulse Sprinkles

1 ounce dulse 

1 pound fresh scallops

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 tablespoons butter

Preheat oven to 325º. 

Spread dulse on a baking sheet and bake in oven until colour starts to change, 3-5 minutes. Remove from oven, as it cools it will crisp up. Put dulse in a food processor, if you are a bit lazy like me, and pulse until it is in small flakes. You get some dulse dust this way but I think that works well here. If you aren’t so lazy, and don’t mind the prickliness, rub dulse between hands until it is flaked. Set aside.

Remove the tough ‘catch muscle’ on the side of the scallops. It will pull off quite easily.

In a heavy bottomed pan, heat olive oil and butter over high heat. Depending on the size of the pan you are using, this could be too much and you will need to have less in the pan to get the scallops to sear properly. I just poured about 2/3 of the olive oil and butter into a dish and saved it for finishing the scallops.

Put the scallops in the pan, make sure there are not too many, or they will not sear properly. If your pan is small, sear them in two batches. Turn as soon as the first side is a bit browned. This should take less than a minute of your pan is hot enough. Sear the second side and transfer to a serving plate. Quickly heat any extra oil and butter in the scallop pan and pour over scallops.

Sprinkle with dulse flakes, and a little dust, and serve.

Fish on Friday

Fish on Friday? Well, on Good Friday at least. Need to have something waiting in the fridge after a long day of Easter egg hunting, general rowdiness and ferry riding on Good Friday? Put a fish pie in the fridge before you leave.

I didn’t have fish pie growing up. We had chowder, which has pretty much the same list of ingredients. We had finnan haddie, smoked haddock poached in fish which we ate with mashed potatoes. Again, pretty much the same ingredients as a basic fish pie. Although, it was one of the few meals which I would choke down in anger and disgust. Maybe, if we had fish pie at our house, I wouldn’t love it so much now which would be a shame because it is my quintessential comfort food.

I didn’t discover fish pie until after I met Stephen. Actually, it was after I met Stephen’s mum. My mother-in-law used to make some of the best fish pie I have ever eaten. The best thing about arriving at Glebe farm on a Friday was that, almost inevitably, there would be fish pie for supper. She made it really simply and with some cracked pepper, coarsely ground salt and steamed vegetables, it was divine.

It isn’t always that way. It is, in my experience, pretty much always good though. Sometimes, it is a little more posh. Sometimes, it is a little more egg and potato than it is fish. Sometimes, it has sliced potatoes instead of mash. Sometimes, it is less creamy and more cheesy. Sometimes, it is the perfect mix of fish and shellfish, creaminess and potatoey goodness.

I never use a recipe to make fish pie and it is with no small amount of trial and error that I am now happy with how I make it. It isn’t ever exactly the same as the time before; it depends on what we have to put in it. So, I am going to explain the basics, link to a couple of recipes and encourage you to play around and discover, for those who haven’t, and rediscover, for those who have eaten this your whole lives, the most perfect Good Friday, or any Friday supper.

You start with some fish and/or shellfish. Smoked haddock, preferably undyed, fresh haddock and salmon work really well. Hardboiled eggs are, for some, absolutely necessary. White sauce, or bechamel, is to my mind, pretty important although I have made it with a vegetabley, tomatoey base and it was pretty good - Jamie Oliver’s Fantastic Fish Pie doesn’t have a creamy sauce and could be made really quickly.

You also need some sort of potato topping - I often use mashed potatoes with celeriac which lightens it up a bit. Nigella uses sliced potatoes on top and calls it fish gratin. The recipe, from Nigella’s Christmas, can be found here.

The rest is really up to what you prefer, how much time you want to spend and how posh you want to make it. Lobster and scallops are decadent in fish pie but may be a bit over the top for a family supper. A handful of chopped spinach usually make its way into a fish pie made at our house. Leeks and fennel or celery poached with the fish add a nice flavour and texture to the pie. 

For classic English fish cookery, most would turn to Rick Stein. His version of a more classic fish pie is a good place to start. Where the recipe uses cod, I would substitute haddock. Use a recipe as a starting point. Add some chopped fresh dill or a handful of your children’s favourite veg. Or, go all out and make it rich and decadent with seafood for a special occasion.

Just enjoy it, and not just on Fridays.

And Then There Were Leftovers

I did realize, as we were getting the planked salmon ready, that it was an enormous piece of fish for three adults and an almost four year old. I didn’t have a plan for the leftovers but I was pretty sure I would find some way to put it to use.

On Friday, after a day of appointments and general running around and Stephen’s first long stretch on his own with both girls, I didn’t really feel like getting down to cooking supper at 5:30.  The thought of pizza was stomach turning. The thought of going out was even less enticing. The air in our house was already thick with simmering meltdown and there was no need to ruin everyone at The Kiwi Café’s Friday night.

A scurry through the fridge yielded lots of options and we did have the better part of a side of salmon in there too. I also found some eggs and some leftover basmati. I am incapable of cooking any less rice than enough to feed at least a dozen hungry marathoners and so, I can usually count on leftover rice.

Smoky fish + eggs + rice = kedgeree which = quick + easy + yummy.

Kedgeree would have once been part of grand Victorian breakfast tables. It was made popular in England by British colonials returning from India. Now, it is widely accepted as a supper dish. It can be made really simply or you can go a little crazy and add all sorts of things.  There is a recipe for kedgeree in Out of Old Nova Scotia Kitchens, which is a plain and simple version.  I made it without a recipe and with a bit of back and forth between the stove and the fridge.

 ‘Leftover’ Kedgeree

4 cups cooked basmati (you could use any leftover long grain rice)

Leftover planked salmon – broken into large flakes (any fish will do, use as much or as little as you want, I used about two cups of large flaked pieces)

2 tablespoons grapeseed oil (any vegetable oil will be fine)

1 onion - diced

3 ribs celery - diced

4 eggs – hardboiled, peeled and quartered

1 teaspoon curry powder

½ teaspoon ground cumin

¼ teaspoon ground turmeric (if I didn’t have an almost four year old eating this, I would have made it quite a lot spicier by adding some chili or diced hot pepper)

Handful chopped parsley (I would have used fresh coriander (cilantro) if I had any)

Salt and pepper to taste

Sauté the onion and celery in the oil until translucent.   Add the spices and the rice and, stirring frequently, heat through.  Add the salmon and the eggs and gently toss to heat.  Gently toss in the parsley and season to taste.

Even quicker than take out.

Summer in March

The weather lately here in Nova Scotia has been more May than March. The more robust, or nuts, village residents have been seen sunbaking on their decks, getting a jump on their summer tan. It has caused an early sweeping off of the cobwebs and a generally cheerier note to the buzz about town. We are being teased with the tops of daffodils and hyacinths and daylilies. And, we pretend that we aren’t due to get a huge snowstorm to remind us that what we call spring here in Nova Scotia lasts a long time and can, by times, be mistaken for a late, long winter.

All the doom aside, spring fever has got its grip on us as well. So much so that yesterday, while looking over the fish counter at the supermarket, a side of salmon caught my eye.  Unbeknownst to me, it hadn’t escaped Stephen’s attention either. And, almost simultaneously, we looked at each other and said, ‘We should have planked salmon tonight.’

Home we came with our salmon and Stephen got to work digging the barbecue out of its winter corner in the basement.  He, with my dad’s help, carried it up to the verandah and brushed and scrubbed and swept it out and then he knocked on the door.

The door to the verandah is not the most energy efficient feature of our 130 year old house. Back in October, in preparation for a long, cold and windy winter, Stephen sealed it shut.  Not so that it would trap us inside but just so that the winter gales were reduced to a gentle winter breeze. 

So, I looked through the window at Stephen knocking on the door and he looked back at me.  And, I walked away from the door and over to the window. I opened the window and we lifted the screen out of the window because we both knew but didn’t want to spoil such summery thoughts by speaking about winter or storms or snow.

Stephen is, with stereotypical flourish, the barbecuer of our house. He does it all the time, not just when we have to climb through the window, in the summer, in the rain, in the garage in the middle of a wind and ice storm.  And, stereotypically, it is the cooking that has made things so perfect when they are good and when things are not so great it is, of course, my shoddy preparation.  But, I don’t mind, because every now and then, it is nice not to be the cook

There isn’t really a recipe for planked salmon and I change ours all the time. All you need is a side of salmon, a bit of wood plank and some seasoning.  If you aren’t cooking for that many, you can either use a smaller piece of salmon or individual portions.

The wood can be cedar, you can buy cedar planks in most supermarkets, and we have used maple and oak. The plank doesn’t need to be much thicker than about ¼ - ½”.  You need to soak the wood in water for a couple of hours at least.  If your sink isn’t big enough, you can soak it on a baking sheet filled with water and weigh the wood down, just keep topping up the water so the plank is covered.

Last night, I had just received a care package with some of Kozlik’s Lime and Honey Mustard in it – Kirsty, you know the way to my heart.  I mixed three tablespoons of the mustard with two tablespoons of olive oil and two cloves of minced garlic and painted this all over the side of salmon and left it to marinate for about an hour. It could marinate for another hour or two in the fridge if you had time.

Then, it gets popped on the soaked plank and on the grill set halfway between low and medium. Our barbecue is not very powerful and pretty elderly so, if you have an all bells and whistles bazillion BTU model, you might want to keep it at a lower temperature for this. We put a piece of aluminum foil between the plank and the grill because we couldn’t find a squirty bottle, or water pistol, in our late winter haste, to prevent flare ups. And, about twenty minutes later, it should be done. It is tempting to keep opening the lid and checking, but unless you need to douse flames, try to keep it shut so the salmon gets really nice and smoky.

I had an eggplant, also known as ‘overjean’ at our house, and a couple of red peppers.  I washed, sliced and tossed these with some olive oil and a minced clove of garlic for the eggplant. Stephen grilled them to perfection and I drizzled the eggplant with a little bit of white wine vinegar while it was till warm. Then, a sprinkling of Maldon sea salt, cracked pepper and chopped parsley and done. It was almost 7 pm by this point. The sun was setting and we decided we would draw the line at dragging out the deck furniture. So, dinner was passed back in through the window and we ate and tried not to think about the weather forecast because it was summer in our dining room.