I'm not sure exactly what she does, but Alannah gets a lot of freebies from the guys at the markets.
Case in point: When she went to buy some cod fillet yesterday, the fishmonger threw in some monkfish.
Monkfish is like a drunk hook-up: Hideous but still satisfying. However – unless you procure some bad fish – there aren't any consequences in the morning. It may look like a bit like that beast you took home after 8 straight hours of beer pong in your fraternity days, only its flesh is firm and its liver beautifully intact.
Tonight was all about the flesh. Firm but supple. Moist and sweet.
And the fish was pretty good, too.
Roasted in the oven (15 min. at high temperature, 5 min. under the broiler), atop crisp potato pancakes, topped with a tomato-saffron coulis (with a touch of rosé), and garnished with wilted radish greens and red radish.
It made for something radically different - and more seasonal - than the usual filet de lotte served around Paris. Which is good in its own way - just that you don't need to eat stuff smothered in white cream sauce every day.
Or do you?
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