Raw sardines and a story of life
I can’t go past a fish shop without grabbing a handful of sardines. Some of that has to do with the fact you can get a feed of these little lovelies for not much more than half a dollar; most of it has to do with the absolutely stupendous flavour of the bright-eyed little fellows. They are also the perfect opener for an important dinner party. They are so fiddly that nobody I know can be bothered to buy them, and that giveaway price allows you to lash out on main course: perhaps crayfish or salmon or crab.
And children love them. Not to eat — but to look at and consider and wonder. One day, when I had taken a half kilo of sardines, with the intention of filleting them and marinating them for a raw sardine salad, my son decided to help. He was going through that pre-school stage of life when he was forever wondering about death, and had questions which not even a phalanx of philosophers could have answered.
‘Is the fish dead, dad?’ he opened.
‘Yes, of course,’ I replied.
‘How did it died?’
‘I suppose it was caught in a fisherman’s net.’
‘Why?’
‘So we could eat it?’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you think?’
‘I don’t know.’ There was a moment’s pause, and then he said: ‘Probably he died because he was unhappy being a fish.’
‘Probably,’ I said.
I decided it was a good time to go for a walk in the garden to inspect the progress of the tomatoes. When he starts to wonder about death, it seems a good time to look at a bit of new life. The dog had been excavating the tomatoes.
‘I’m going to kill that dog,’ I said.
‘Why?’ he said.
½ bunch of basil
100g butter
½kg sardines, bright of eye, red of gill, scales firmly in place
a good pour of virgin olive oil
juice of 2 lemons
1 clove garlic, chopped
finely tarragon, chopped
2 hot chillies
250g asparagus
1 avocado, sliced
salt
black pepper
best bread for toast
1
Make basil butter for the toast. Snip the basil with scissors. Work the butter in your hands until it is almost creamy. Mix through the basil. Refrigerate until firm. You won’t need all of it for this dish, but keep it for a sauce, or a late addition to soup.
2
It takes the dickens of time to clean and fillet the fish, they are so fiddly. I suggest you take a good chair, a plastic bag, and a roll of absorbent paper. Make sure you have some restful music playing. Perhaps something from the Baroque – or a talkative child to keep you content, or thoughtful, or thinking. Each fish takes about 30 seconds — at a relaxed pace — to clean.
Firstly, wipe away any scales under running water, then get down to the messy business. Actually, I quite like filleting sardines. It is such an ancient ritual, unaffected by the passing of millenia. All you need is some running water, a forefinger and a thumb, and a dog to take up the refuse. They would have been doing it before Christ was preaching in the temple. They would have done it before Captain Cook claimed Botany Bay. They would have done it before Federation. And I’m still doing it. The guts can be removed easily by slicing from the sardine’s waste disposal department through to its neck. Take out the guts by rubbing with your forefinger, then clean the fish under running water.
3
Once the fish is gutted, pinch behind its head with your forefinger and thumb and put pressure on the backbone. Maintaining that pressure, just pull your fingers along the backbone towards the tail. On the way through, the flesh will come clear of the bones. Break off the head and tail, and you have your first cleaned and boned sardine. Wipe the fish dry of any blood or loose scales.
4
In a bowl, toss the fillets with the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, tarragon and chilli. The chilli is vital, even if you don’t believe you can cope with raw chilli. You can. I prefer to add oil to this dish, rather than rely on soaking the fish in lemon juice or lime juice as is the way with Mexican ceviche. My view is that a long swim in lemon juice dries out the fish, toughening them up. The olive oil keeps them moist, while the citrus enhances their flavour. Leave for about half an hour. That is enough for the lemon juice and oil to do their job — a day later and the flavour remains much the same. This routine applies similarly for less fiddly fish, like snapper or flathead or bream. The fillets will be much firmer and have a less forceful flavour.
5
While the fish is marinating, cook the asparagus. Chop off the tough stems, keeping them for another day, and cook the tips in boiling salted water until just done — about 5 minutes.
6
When the asparagus is done, stop the cooking quickly in cold water and set aside.
7
If you are out to impress, remove the sardines from the marinade and splay them on a pretty plate with avocado, sprinkled with the marinade, salt and black pepper.
8
Make the toast and butter it with the basil butter.
9
Re-heat the asparagus quickly and toss it through the rest of the basil butter. Serve asparagus individually and allow everyone to pile the sardines, avocado and the asparagus on the toast.
WINE: There’s the tang of citrus and oil here. You cannot go past Rhine riesling. I would serve a young Rhine -13 years -or a beer.