Showing posts with label seafood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seafood. Show all posts

Friday, September 23, 2016

How to cook Swedish Crayfish

The other day, Gustaf asked me if I would go down to the lake and fish crayfish with him.  When Gustaf was small, we would often go down to a creek near where we lived and catch crayfish.  We only ever caught a few at a time, mainly for the fun of catching them, rather than for the eating.  So, when he asked me this, I had visions of sitting for hours trying to catch some pesky crayfish by hand, and I politely declined the pleasure.

So the next day, I was quite surprised when he went to pick up his haul of crayfish.  He had obviously moved on in terms of technique because he had laid out a crayfish cage.  He caught a bucket worth, 44 to be exact, of which he threw 10 back because they were too small.

When he proudly and happily came home with his bucket of crayfish, Farfar sprang into action.  He showed Gustaf how to flavor the boiling water.  He added salt, tasting periodically until it was sufficiently salty.  Farfar whipped out a bag of frozen home grown crown dill, which is the flower of a fully grown dill plant and is traditionally used to flavor boiling water for seafood in Sweden. He threw in a few sugar cubes and then pronounced it ready.

After the water was brought to boil, we threw in the crayfish.  "All at once," admonished Farfar, annoyed when I tried to stop the action to take a picture, "otherwise the water cools and the last crayfish don't die immediately."  The crayfish are boiled for a few minutes and then set out to cool in the cooking water. Two days later, we sat down to eat perfectly salty, sweet crayfish.

Here's roughly how we did it, with a rough estimation of the measurements of sugar and salt that Farfar threw in:

About 1 kilo freshwater crayfish (about 25 to 35, depending on size)
2 teaspoons sugar
about 3 liters water
about 1.5 dl salt
6 to 8 heads crown dill

Take a large pot that will generously hold the crayfish and fill with water.  Add salt until the water is as salty as sea water.  Add sugar and crown dill.  Bring the water to a boil.  Add the crayfish. Put the lid on.  Boil for about 7 to 8 minutes.  Take off the stove and set aside with the lid on.  Leave it to cool.  Put the pot in the refrigerator and leave to sit, preferably overnight.  It can keep a few days like this in the refrigerator.

To eat a crayfish, take a crayfish in one hand.  With your fingers, pry up the bodyshell where it hits the tail.  It will come off, leaving the tail attached to the body and legs.  Put your mouth on the naked body and suck the juices.  Trust me, it tastes good.  Check the shell to see if there is some good "butter" in there and eat it.  Pull the body off off the tail.  Flip the tail over and break the shell and pull the tail meat out.  Eat it.  This is the best part.  If the claws are large, you can break the shell with your teeth and pull out the meat. Repeat.

Eat the crayfish cold.  The traditional accompaniments are a cold glass of schnapps and hard bread with cheese. Skål!

Tuesday, August 02, 2016

Juniper Smoked Scallops

This seems to be the summer when I write about Fäviken, the famous restaurant near Åre in Sweden, even though my one meal there was a couple of years ago.  I just posted the recipe for a meadowsweet cordial that was inspired by Fäviken, and now this. Among the many memorable dishes were the fattest scallops that I have ever seen, served in its shell.  The waitor informed us that they were fresh from Norway, which is less than 50km away.  The next summer after we ate at Fäviken, there were fresh scallops in their shells at the fishmonger.  They were expensive, but we had to try to recreate this dish, or to be more precise, Peter had to recreate the dish, grilling and seafood being part of his manly terrain.

It has become an annual ritual of summer for us to eat these scallops, whenever we can get scallops on the shell at the market, which is not that often.  I had thought about putting it on my blog, but cleaning the scallops is time consuming and a bit much for your average cook, and, in fact, I have never done it, only watched Peter.  This year, Gustaf requested these scallops for his birthday dinner.  We were unable to get the scallops on the shell, so we decided to try make the dish using frozen scallops.  The result was splendid, cheaper, and so so easy.  Now, Faiviken's version, as I recall, was delicate, with just a smidge of butter, and a whisper of smoke.  Peter's version is more. More butter, more smoke.  And I think it is even better than the original.

The dish just requires three ingredients: scallops, butter, and juniper.  Somehow, when the scallops meet the butter and both are infused with the aromatic smoke from the juniper, the results are much much greater than you would believe.  The buttery juices are delectable and must be soaked up in lots of crusty bread or a spoon, if you are greedy.

This recipe is more of a method than an exact science.

Gather an armful of juniper.  This is a common plant, so you probably have a juniper tree growing near you somewhere.  You can identify them by their blueish purple berries which can be picked and used to flavor wild game dishes, a commong flavoring here in Sweden.

Allow 2 to 3 large scallops per person, for a starter, more if you are serving these as your main course.  You can use fresh or frozen, the largest that you can find.  I found mine at the local ICA store in the frozen section, about 30 scallops in one bag.  If you are in the USA, Costco has excellent frozen scallops and I recomend those unless you have a really good trusted fishmonger.

Light an outdoor grill with charcoal.  While the coals are heating, you can prepare the scallops. Get ready copious amounts of butter.

Find a cast iron pan or something that will take the heat of a grill and has some edges to capture the juice. We used a Swedish pancake pan, which has convenient depressions. On a cast iron pan, arrange large splodges of butter--more than you think necessary.  Then double that amount.  Lay the mussels on top of the butter.

When the grill is hot, throw the juniper onto it.  It will start smoking immediately. Alot of smoke. Put the rack down and then put the pan with the mussels on top.  Put the lid on the grill.  Let the mussels cook for a couple of minutes until the butter is melted and slightly bubbling. The mussels will taken on some color from the smoke.


Serve immediately, spooning the juices over the scallops with lots of crusty bread to soak up the flavored buttery juices.  Don't be shy about dipping your bread into any juices that might remain in the pan.  Try not to fight over it.






Sunday, January 04, 2015

New Year's Supper: Luxurious but Easy

This New Year, I felt for something special but really couldn't be bothered to spend the whole day cooking a dinner.  It would just be family, so I decided on a menu of foods that we really love to eat and to eat the way we love, by which I mean lots of little things eaten at the bar in the kitchen, rather than a sit down formal affair.

To start, we had Gravad Lax.  My father-in-law, a former butcher and fish monger pronounced it excellent, which is in my book, the highest praise possible.

Then, we had my version of Oysters Rockefeller.  This delectable dish is supposed to have been created by the famous New Orleans restaurant Antoine's and named after the then American's richest family.  There are many recipes out there but it is claimed that no one has recreated the original correctly.  I don't care about that, however, because my version tastes delicious and everyone that I have ever made it for has been equally entranced.

Up next was a dish of scallops that Peter recreated after eating them at the wonderful restaurant Fäiviken near Åre.  At that magical meal, we were served the largest scallops we had ever seen, from Norway we were told, served simply in its own shell with a bit of butter and set to cook over juniper smoke.  There really isn't a recipe for this.  You put a pat of butter into the scallop shell and put them over the BBQ which has been topped with juniper branches and let the smoke infuse the scallops, while the heat cooks them. Unfortunately, I didn't get a good photo of these.

Our main course was a pasta with lobster sauce, where I was trying to recreate the wonderful pasta I have had several times in Italy. The secret to infusing the sauce with lobster flavor is to fry the shells in the oil that you will use in the dish.  It is impossible to recreate the flavor of eating this dish while sitting on a sunny terrace in Italy, but I was pleased enough with the result to eat a third helping, which I do not advise but seemed a very good idea at the time.

Finally, we finished with some madeleines and a rich salted chocolate rye cookie, made famous by the San Francisco bakery Tartine, but which I had for the first time at the Green Rabbit here in Stockholm.  Do not think I was so ambitious as to make two desserts.  The madeleine batter takes just a few minutes to throw together and I had some left over chocolate cookie dough in the freezer, which I garnished with candied orange peel instead of sea salt.

After all of that, I could barely move, so I waddled over to the sofa and lay down, nursing my excellent glass of Quinta Do Vallado 10 Year old Tawny Port.  And fell asleep well before midnight. Which was fine by me.  Happy New Year!

 Oysters Rockefeller

Allow at least 2 per person, or 6 if you are greedy.

The hardest thing about Oysters Rockefeller is to shuck the oysters.  Luckily, Peter is excellent and this task and does it happily.  If you don’t know how to do it, you can find a good description here.

2 dozen oysters, shucked on the half-shell
One package frozen spinach, about 500 grams
150 to 200 grams bacon, diced finely
About 1 cup heavy cream
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmesan to garnish
Breadcrumbs to garnish

Heat some olive oil or butter in a pan on medium heat and add the bacon, diced fine.  When the bacon is cooked, almost to how you like to eat it, add in a big sploge of cream and the packet of frozen spinach.  Stir occasionally while the spinach thaws and cooks for a minute.  Salt and pepper to taste.  The spinach will let out a bit of water, so let the water cook down so that the cream is thick, about 10 minutes.  If you think it does not look creamy enough, add some more cream.  Be careful not to salt too much, because the oysters will be salty.  If you like, you can add the juice from the oysters into the spinach which will add both salt and bit of sea flavour. 

When the oysters are shucked, arrange them on a baking pan.  You can use the other half of the shell to try to stabilize them so that they lay nicely on the tray.  Put a good tablespoon or so of the spinach mixture on each oyster, smoothing the mixture over so that the oyster is covered.  If you have leftover spinach, it makes a good omelette filling for your breakfast the next day.  Sprinkle a bit of breadcrumbs and a generous layer of parmesan over each oyster.  Bake in a hot oven, about 220 C (425 f) for about 10 minutes or until the parmesan is nicely coloured and the spinach is bubbling.  Eat while hot.

Lobster Pasta


Serves 4 to 6 persons
2 cooked medium sized lobsters
4 to 5 tablespoons olive oil or butter
1 onion or a couple of shallots
4 garlic cloves
One packet cherry tomatoes (minus the ones your son ate during the day)
Zest of one lemon
Juice of half a lemon
Splash of white wine (or more lemon juice)
Large handful of fresh basil
250 grams of spaghetti
Salt and pepper to taste
Dried red chili pepper to taste, if desired

Remove all the meat from the lobster, reserving the shells.  Do this by splitting the lobster in half.  Pull out the tail meat.  Remove each claw by twisting and use a knive to cut the shells so that you can remove the meat.  Chop the meat roughly into bite sized pieces.  You can also get the meat out of each tiny leg by using a rolling pin along the leg but I usually can’t be bothered.

Heat a large pot of water, add some salt and cook the spaghetti according to the instructions.

Meanwhile, chop the onions and garlic finely.  Quarter each cherry tomato.  Chop the basil coarsely.

Heat up a large frying pan with 3 tablespoons olive oil.  Fry the lobster shells on medium high heat for a few minutes until you can smell the lobster scent and the oil takes on some color from the shells.  Remove the shells, shaking them to keep as much oil as possible in the pan.


Throw in the pan the onions and let cook on medium heat until translucent.  Throw in the garlic and cook for another minute, stirring to keep the garlic from burning.  Add in the tomatoes, lemon juice, lemon zest, splash of wine, and chili pepper, if desired.  Cook for about ten minutes until the tomatoes start to break down.  Season with salt and pepper.  

About two minutes before the pasta is done, throw in the lobster pieces and basil, reserving a bit for garnish and heat gently.  Add a further tablespoon or two of olive oil. Taste the mixture and correct the seasoning.  If the mixture seems to be a bit dry, add a few tablespoons of the pasta water.  When the spaghetti is cooked, add to the mixture and toss until the spaghetti is fully coated with the sauce.  Garnish with basil.  It is not considered “correct” to eat seafood pastas with parmesan, but add some anyway, if you like.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Olive Oil Mussels and Clams

In our financial consulting business, there was an industry conference held every year in Barcelona. Ostensibly, you went there to learn about the latest in financial technology and structuring. We went for the parties. Not that a bunch of bankers are the most stimulating of party companions, but among the bunch of serious analysts and boring lawyers, there could be found some party animals, generally the veterans in our industry who had seen a bit too much to care about what a banking vice president (title sounds impressive but actually indicates a banking slave) had to say about credit risk on mezzanine securitization tranches. We tended to stay out late drinking, have dinner, more drinking, and stumble to our hotel rooms at about 3am. By 1pm, we were vaguely conscious and in search of lunch…and a drink. A brief afternoon siesta, and we were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by six, just in time for cocktails. Please don't think we are hedonists. As you may know, it is customary in Spain to take a siesta after lunch--indeed most shops are closed for some hours in the afternoon, making shopping for, say, a new handbag, a very frustrating experience...but that is another story. Anyway, because of this siesta, dinner is customarily taken very late. So really, by adhering to this schedule, we were trying to adapt to native life. It's trying sometimes, but one does one's duty.

One year, on our departure from Barcelona, they were having some sort of strike at the airport. Some sensible people left very early for the airport in order to minimize the risk of missing their flight. We went to lunch. The restaurant was called Els Pescadors and located in a tiny square in the outskirts of Barcelona (This restaurant is still there but from their website, the menu is completely different now). We had a feast involving the freshest seafood and fish…amazing rice and beans…to be honest, I don’t remember it all. But it was wonderful. Equally wonderful was phoning our friends at the airport. They were sitting in the dreary airport waiting for their plane which was delayed for hours, eating stale sandwiches and sipping warm coca cola. We were sitting outside in the sun, drinking wine, and eating spectacular food. Five hours later, we strolled into the airport and got directly onto our delayed by 3 hours flight home. Ahhh...sometimes life is good.

One dish that we had at Els Pescadore was a dish of sautéed mussels and clams. It was simple and breathtakingly delicious. Our attempt to recreate it is pretty good also. One caveat: As with all very simple dishes, the quality of this dish is reliant on the quality of the seafood. If you get sweet, fat, plump, juicy mussels, the dish will be fabulous. Sadly, unless you live in Belgium or the Netherlands, this is unlikely to happen by buying any old random mussels. Our hit ratio for mussel nirvana when living outside Belgium has been maybe 30%. I wish you more luck.

Take lot of mussels or clams, or both.

A lot of good olive oil.
A lot of garlic. And I mean a lot. Like two heads. Just peel until you get too bored to peel, and then peel a few more for good measure. Chop.

Turn on your broiler. Then, on the stove, take a very large frying pan or other dish that can go both on top of the stove and in your broiler, pour in the olive oil, and turn up flame to high. Put in the garlic, sauté a moment, and then put in the mussels and clams. Cook and continuously stir until the shells begin to open, which takes just a few minutes. Take the pan off the stove and shove in the broiler. Leave in the broiler until the mussel shells start to crisp at the edges, somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes. Check them every few moments, and stir, as they can go from cooked to burnt very quickly. Take out of the broiler and put on the table. Sprinkle some chopped Italian flat-leafed parsley on top, if you want to be fancy. Eat immediately with crusty bread to soak up the juices.
There will be a lot of juices in the pan. If you don’t slurp them up with the mussels, you can save this juice and make a great pasta dish for the next day. Shell remaining clams and mussels, if any. Take some spaghetti and boil in water, as normal, but only cook half-way. Drain the pasta and put back in pot with mussel juice. Cook until one minute before al dente. Add in shelled clams and mussels to heat. Throw in a bunch of chopped green stuff: parsley, arugula, or watercress all taste good. Serve in bowls with plenty of the juice.
PS. Never ask the goddamn Barcelonians for sea urchin late at night..they will serve you something else and then just lie to you about the ingredients. It is my experience that they will maintain this lie even after you extremely eloquently and courteously (after about three bottles of wine) point out to them that they are lying bastards that will be first against the wall when the revolution comes. DS /Peter