As usual with a new idea, it was an odd confluence of happenings that led to the budding of this desire. Firstly, I was given a book that I have long wanted to read: Cod, by Mark Kurlansky. In this beautifully written work, Kulansky follows the journey of this fish as it comes into contact with and later is shaped by human history. It is a fascinating story, surprising in its significance and inspiring in the kitchen. I am still happily swimming in the text, currently drifting by the cod as they unwittingly fuel the fire of 18th century American revolutionaries. But I’m also salivating at the thought of really good battered and fried fish. Secondly, I remain committed to my spring resolution to explore the world of aquatic cookery. On this point, I have been shamefully lazy of late. Furthermore, an old class mate was making fish and chips the other day. “Do you have any tips?” he asked. I had none, having never attempted this wonderful classic, this cornerstone of my culinary heritage. In fact I am woefully ignorant on the subject.
Thankfully ignorance can be remedied, especially now that I’ve got a couple vital tools to aid comprehension: a cast iron fry pot and Heston Blumenthal’s meticulously authoritative cookbook, In search of Perfection, both lent to me by Boss Man, who also generously volunteered to taste test any of my experiments. So, the exploration begins. As the matter of choosing and sourcing the ideal fish is going to be quite a process, I’ve decided in the meantime to start with the chips.
I’ve got a pan, a thermometer, two varieties of potato, and two strikingly dissimilar methods to try. Tonight, let the frying begin! Whatever it takes I am determined to master this meal. The Spanish have an apt idiom for describing who is in charge in a given relationship or situation. It is the one who cuts the salt cod—la que corta el bacalao! That’ll be me, baby.
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