“Ça marche, 5 covers: 1 soup, 2 foie gras, 1 beet-root salad, 1 bo diddley.
Pour suivre: 1 château-briand medium-rare [for two], 1 cod, 1 venison
medium, 1 turbot. Pressé!” Now, I don’t expect this imaginary and
expletive-purged kitchen order to make perfect sense to each and every
reader, but I am sure that most of it can be fathomed out with a little
effort.
Ça marche? This roughly translates as “Order on; let’s go”. For
covers, read customers. Pour suivre? It means to follow, ie, for main
courses, and pressé simply implies quickly, very quickly. In
good, busy professional kitchens, everything is pressé because
we can never cook fast enough. But Bo Diddley? Isn’t he the great old
Mississippi Bluesman famed for his outlandish rectangular guitars?
Actually, yes, he is, but it is also kitchen slang (in Chez Bruce at least)
for squid. So there you have it: a bo diddley is a squid and a squid is a bo
diddley. Don’t ask me why; it just is. (In kitchen mockney, a bo diddley can
occasionally be a calf’s kidney, too, but let’s not go there.)
Aside from its ridiculous sobriquet, squid also happens to be the most
fantastic, versatile and relatively cheap produce to enter kitchen life via
the tradesman’s entrance, and according to recent press reports, plenty of
it is being caught off our shores. We use several different types in Chez
Bruce depending on the dish, enabling us to deep-fry the tiddlers whole
(known as chipirones in the Basque regions, where they are highly
revered) and serve them on their own, or as part of a seafood fritto misto
with rouille (a Provençal sauce made from chillies, garlic and bread-crumbs)
or aioli, one of the best things you will ever eat if prepared properly.
Or we might slice the bodies of the bigger beasts into 5mm-thick rounds and
sauté them briefly, perhaps with garlic, ginger and chilli, and serve with
wilted Chinese greens, chargrilled waxy potatoes, soy and sesame oil. And,
of course, squid forms an integral part of one of my favourite northern
Italian classics, risotto nero, in which the cephalopod’s naturally black
ink is used to colour and flavour the rice, lending it a superb, dark
charcoal-grey hue and a wonderfully fishy pungency. In this case, the squid
is grilled, tentacles and all, and placed on top of the risotto, which is
finished traditionally with gremolata, a mixture of chopped lemon zest, flat
leaf parsley and garlic.
I am not sure if squid was ever in vogue in this country; sadly, I suspect
not. This is a great pity because if ever a quality ingredient lends itself
to real fast food, this is it. Once the inkfish (as Elizabeth David quaintly
describes it in French Provincial Cooking) is cleaned — a messy but
easy job which can be sorted by the fishmonger — it needs very little
cooking, literally seconds. In fact, if you have eaten squid and found it
rubbery, it is almost certainly as a result of overcooking. Other chewy
squid crime perpetrators are those horrid “seafood salads” sold in plastic
tubs in supermarkets. If you check out the everlasting shelflife on these
repellent cartons, it will come as no surprise that the contents bear little
resemblance to anything that has ever roamed the sea, they are pretty well
inedible (and their juices indelible, no doubt), and that the squid in
particular would be better off plugging your next bicycle puncture.
But let’s assume that you are the proud owner of some recently purchased,
beautifully fresh and expertly cleaned squid, the mantles (bodies) of which
are ideally about 7cm long. (If the squid are longer, it is better to slice
the tubular parts into rings.)
Unless you are chargrilling at home — a highly recommended medium, by the way
— you will probably be sautéing in a frying pan and here are a few pointers
worth considering. Take a little time to dry your squid on kitchen paper, as
trying to sauté anything wet is nigh-on impossible. Don’t worry about
getting any colour on your slippery little blighters as the extremities will
naturally curl away from the fierce heat once in the pan. Make sure the
scrupulously clean pan is properly hot. Only then add some olive oil,
followed immediately by the seasoned squid, and do not overcrowd as this
will encourage stewing rather than sautéing. Leave alone for half a minute
and do not shake the pan unnecessarily, as it dissipates the heat. Thirty
seconds a side should do it, and after taking the pan off the flame, a
generous squeeze of lemon juice is recommended as the citrus will mingle
pleasingly with the juices from the squid cavities, forming a natural and
delicious lubricant.
Finally, it is worth mentioning that the tentacles are arguably the best bit,
so please don’t discard them but add towards the end and toss them around
for a few seconds. I usually then leave the pan off the heat for a minute or
two, allowing the juices and flavoursto develop. This is one of the simplest
and best ways to enjoy squid and if you want to use it as part of a salad,
this rapid but finely judged cooking process can be done several hours in
advance. Don’t refrigerate the cooked squid, though, as the sharp changes in
temperature are unkind to its eating quality for some reason, but left to
its own devices at room temperature for a few hours, the soft molluscs will
form the backbone of a fabulous salad; simply add sliced seasoned avocado,
ripe plum tomatoes, fresh oregano, warm Jersey royals, a few drops of
balsamic vinegar and more olive oil.
The recipe, however, is for bruschetta of squid with red peppers, gem hearts,
aioli and basil and will, I hope, convert even the most ardent Mozart lovers
into diehard Bo Diddley fans.
Chez Bruce, London SW17; 020-8672 0114; www.chezbruce.co.uk.
Thomasina Miers is back next week
Bruschetta of squid with red peppers and aioli
(Serves four)
The aioli
140ml of good (not too peppery) olive oil
140ml of vegetable oil
1 fat clove of garlic crushed (or better, minced smooth with the flat of a
knife)
2 egg yolks
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
A few drops of white wine vinegar
Squeeze of lemon juice
Salt and freshly ground white or black pepper
The peppers
2 red peppers
Big bunch of basil
Plenty of good olive oil
A generous drizzle (but don’t overdo it) of balsamic vinegar
The rest
2 heads of little gem lettuce
4 slices of good sourdough bread (I use Poilâne)
A little simple oil and vinegar vinaigrette
8-12 small cleaned squid, with tentacles separate
To make the aioli combine in a big bowl the mustard, egg yolks, vinegar,
garlic and seasoning. Mix the two oils together and whisk in the egg mixture
gradually as you would for mayonnaise. Check the seasoning and add freshly
squeezed lemon juice to taste. The sauce should be thick and glossy and can
be made in advance.
The red peppers require skinning, so they will need blackening and blistering
over a naked flame (hold with tongs) or under a red-hot grill and when still
hot, cover in a bowl with tightly pulled clingfilm to aid steaming. When
cooled, slip off the skins, slice the peppers into quarters and discard the
seeds. Lay the eight pieces of flesh flat on a tea towel to dry thoroughly.
Fry these pieces in a thin film of nearly smoking hot olive oil until
slightly blackened around the edges (which will probably take slightly
longer than you think), season well and when off the heat but still in the
pan, toss with plenty of chopped basil, the balsamic vinegar and some extra
olive oil — reserve at room temperature. These peppers are an excellent dish
in their own right (good with aubergine purée or hoummos), so you may well
like to make a bigger batch as they keep well.
Peel away the dark green outer leaves of the gem lettuce and discard, leaving
only the lovely crisp pale green hearts and divide into four. (In my
household we feed the outer leaves to the kids’ two guinea pigs and they
seem to go down a treat, although to be fair, Peggy and Maisy are not what
you would call choosy.)
For the finished dish, prepare a big frying pan (or better still two, or cook
the squid in batches, cleaning the pan between each batch) by getting it
really hot. While the pan is heating, toast or grill the sourdough bread and
top each slice with some of the peppers and keep warm in the oven. Dress the
gem hearts with a little vinaigrette and season.
Season the squid just before putting into the pan. (If you season it too far
in advance, the salt will draw out moisture and make the flesh wet again.)
Work quickly at this stage because if the pan is as hot as it needs to be,
the oil when added will quickly begin to smoke, so the squid needs to go in
immediately after the oil — take great care not to splash yourself with hot
oil. Turn the squid pieces with tongs and give each side about 30 seconds.
Throw in the tentacles and then, off the heat, add a generous squeeze of
lemon juice. Leave the pan for three or four minutes and toss the contents
together once more before serving.
Place a red pepper bruschetta on each plate followed by some dressed gem heart
leaves. Put the squid bodies and tentacles on top and serve the aioli on the
side. Make sure all the yummy, lemony, squiddy pan juices go on the plate as
well.
Nutritionist’s verdict: Amanda Ursell
Tuck in...if you want to boost your immune system Red peppers have more
vitamin C than oranges and even when grilled, although sensitive to heat,
you will still have plenty in the finished dish. It should help to bolster
immune systems that can be seriously taxed at this time of year. Heating
makes the carotenes in peppers more easily absorbed and these may help to
protect our lungs from pollutants. The squid will not absorb the oil it is
cooked in, and is low in fat and high in protein. Served with low-GI
sourdough bread, this vitamin-packed meal will keep you full for hours.
Steer clear...if you are counting calories Obviously the aioli is full
of fat and calories because it is made with lots of oil and egg yolks.
Divided between four it would work out at 687 calories and 76g of fat each.
Limiting your helping is clearly the best advice if you care about your
waistband.
