Saffron Fish Stew
I feel like I can’t in good faith cook Easter Sunday dinner until I’ve blogged about Friday’s dinner. It was that good. The recipe came from my current favourite cookbook, Ravinder Bhogal’s Cook in Boots. It’s rare that you find a cook book that consistently produces rave-worthy food, but this is mine. It’s Nigella without the fuss, but more importantly, it’s the sort of food I love to (a) cook and (b) eat. Previous success stories have included Spicy Shepherd’s Pie (a whole new level of shepherd-y goodness), Fragrant Chicken Curry with Star Anise and Five Spice Duck Breasts. But I digress.
Friday’s recipe of joy (TM) was Saffron Fish Stew, conveniently available online here. I doubled the recipe to serve 4, though in fact it made enough for us to have the leftovers for lunch on Saturday. I strayed very little from the recipe, using an assortment of fish from the freezer (two salmon fillets, a bag of king prawns and one of those little cartons of mixed shellfish) rather than those suggested, and supplementing my rather pathetic fresh tomatoes with some tinned ones.
The result was just unspeakably good. It probably helped that there were plenty of ingredients I am particularly fond of, like fish, fennel and red chillies, but really, I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited about a dish two days after I ate it. Served with some crusty white bread (loaves and fishes and all that) it was the perfect Good Friday supper. At least until the chocolate brownie pavlova ruined all attempts at piety.
Hoping you all have a very happy Easter (or other religious/chocolate-based festival) and that your family was slightly more effective than mine at supplying Easter eggs – a disappointment of epic proportions – though at least this time I feel less betrayed by the Easter Bunny. Because yes, that happened.
I’m off to cook the Sunday dinner now, but will be away for the next few days so you’ll have to wait until Tuesday to hear all about it. Suffice to say, it is a roast that I am looking forward to eating. And that just doesn’t happen.