Smoked Haddock Fish Pie

I love seafood. I'd rather have shrimp, scallops, grouper, mussels or pretty much anything from the sea than a steak or chicken any day of the week, and Judson rolls his eyes endlessly at my need to try every possible type of oyster that's ever on a menu.

But fish pie and fish stew had always sounded a little iffy, even to me. I'm always kind of wary of any seafood dish that just boasts 'fish' in its title instead of a specific type of fish-- how do you know what's in there otherwise?

However, then I moved to Scotland and learned the joys of Cullen Skink. Seriously, cullen skink is the best. It's a warm, hearty smoked fish stew made with haddock, leeks, and cream that's the perfect way to end a chilly autumn day. So I figured if I've opened my mind to fish stew, it was definitely time to give fish pies a try. And with Scottish restaurants being full of fish pies (especially this time of year), it's never been easier to embrace my newfound passion. I mean, seriously: they're so popular here that my favourite British food magazine did an entire feature on them this month.

Over the past few years of living in Scotland, I've learned to love fish pies as much as I love most seafood, so I was excited when I found this recipe to give one a try myself. The beauty of fish pies is that they're generally not made with pastry crust, and instead are layered like a cottage pie. There's a creamy fish filling as the base, topped with seasoned mashed potatoes, and, in the best cases, perfectly crisped breadcrumbs. This recipe delivers on all that and more, and this time of year in Scotland, when the days are longer but not quite summery yet, it's the perfect mix of warm and tasty without being too hearty or heavy.

If you live in the UK, this is the perfect chance to use smoked haddock from your local fishmonger. (If you're stateside, try haddock, cod, or even salmon). Hilariously (to me, anyway), this fish pie calls for '2 teaspoons of onion juice,' which is definitely one of the weirdest ingredients I've run into since starting this project. However, bereft of an onion juicer, I was forced to improvise: I minced two teaspoons of onion so fine it was basically paste and used that instead. (It worked fine, so this is what I've listed below).

If you're like me and wary of fish pies, I'd encourage you to give this a try. With mashed potatoes, smoked fish, buttery crunchy breadcrumbs, and all the flavour you can shake a stick at, what's not to love? Even on a weeknight, this comes together quickly and easily, and if you have leftovers, they're just as tasty the next day!

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. This dish is one of my new staples, especially great for an easy weeknight dinner paired with a green salad and a glass of white wine.

one year ago: Hoparound's Hamburger Tacos

And, other previous Cinco de Mayo food: Best Sangria

The recipe:

Fish Pie

the directions:

Grease a pie plate and preheat the oven to 200C/400F.
Make the mashed potatoes: peel and chop the potatoes into fairly uniform-sized chunks.
In a large pot of water, boil the potatoes until fork-tender, drain, and return the potatoes to the pot.
Turn the heat back on very low and mash the potatoes over low heat (this releases the steam and helps dry the potatoes out).
Remove from heat, add ¼ c milk, 1 tbsp butter, salt and pepper to taste, then mash until smooth and set aside.
Meanwhile, place ½ tbsp butter in a small oven-safe dish and pop in the oven to melt.
Once butter has melted, remove from the oven and add breadcrumbs, a pinch of dried dill, and a pinch of garlic powder, stirring to combine.
Place breadcrumbs back in the oven to toast for 5 minutes or until golden and crisp while you make the white sauce.
Make the white sauce by melting the last 1 tbsp butter over medium heat in a small pot.
Blend in flour and a pinch of salt, stirring constantly over low heat until mixture is bubbling and very smooth.
Cook for one minute, then turn off heat and VERY GRADUALLY in a slow and steady stream, add remaining ½ c of the milk.
Return to heat, stir constantly, bring to a boil and allow to thicken.
Once sauce has thickened, gently stir flaked fish, onion and lemon juice into the sauce, keeping the fish in large chunks as much as possible-- you want a nice, thick 'sauce,' not a paste.
Pour white sauce mixture into prepared pie plate, then pipe or spread mashed potatoes over the top.
Sprinkle with parmesan and toasted breadcrumbs, then bake for 15-20 minutes until warmed through.

the ingredients:

2 c potatoes
¾ c milk, divided
2 ½ tbsp butter, divided
Salt & Pepper to taste
½ c bread crumbs
Dried dill
Garlic Powder
1 tbsp flour
2 c flaked cooked fish (smoked haddock is ideal!)
2 tsp minced onion
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp parmesan, grated

Mariner's Shrimp & Mac

Here are some foods I love:

Cheese
Macaroni cheese (this is what macaroni and cheese is called here in the UK and I love it)
Shrimp
Olives

Here are some things I can now say with surety that I do not like in combination:

Cheese
Macaroni Cheese
Shrimp
Olives.

But here we are, and it wouldn’t be The Recipe Box Project if every recipe was a winner. I made this Mariner’s Mac during Lent, because even though we don’t change our diet, I still remember my mom’s stories about eating fish every Friday, so I figured Lent was as good of a time as any to make this dish. But then it was so terrible I’ve just been putting off the inevitable post about it because I just don’t really know what to tell you about this.

To begin with, I should note that, for some reason, macaroni cheese in a box is almost impossible to find in Scotland. Neither of the grocery stores in my neighbourhood carry it, and neither does the one near my office. I couldn’t muster up the energy or desire to ruin a batch of homemade macaroni cheese by turning it into Mariner’s Mac, so I opted for a family-size macaroni cheese from the refrigerator section as my base… but it was from Waitrose—the fanciest grocer in Edinburgh—so it was still a little gourmet.

Also, the recipe doesn’t say what kind of olives should be used, so I went with pitted kalamatas. This was a mistake, though not as big of a mistake as this entire dish turned out to be. The worst part was that it’s impossible to eat around all the nonsense that goes into this dish, because the onions (which are raw for added shudders) are minced so small they’re invisible under the cheese sauce.

I am, however, starting to have a theory that the advent of all the boxed foods that appeared in the 1950s and 1960s are responsible for these weird ‘casseroles’ in a way I didn’t expect. I mean, if you were a housewife in the 1950s, and you had only ever tasted food made from scratch, wouldn't the taste of boxed macaroni just disgust you (not to mention feeling absolutely too easy-- like calling for a takeaway)? So how do you fix the taste of processed foods as a home cook (and how do you convince housewives to buy your product, if you're a brand like Kraft)?

You make up inane recipes to prove how 'versatile' your products are, and if you're a cook, you 'dress up' your easy boxed meals to make them seem more costly, unique, time-consuming, and fancy. At least, that's how I justify the existence of this recipe, and if you have a better idea, than I'm all ears.

The verdict:

1 spoon out of five. I feel I should at least deign to give this recipe a single spoon, since Judson and I managed to eat the shrimp and macaroni cheese and leave behind the majority of the olives and other random ingredients. But I really like both shrimp and macaroni, and it was still an unholy effort to get through an entire bowlful of this recipe. I don't recommend it-- at all.

one year ago: Easter Bread

The recipe:

Mariner's Shrimp & Mac

the directions:

Prepare macaroni as directed on package.
Stir in shrimp, sour cream, olives, pimento, and onion.
Stir well and reheat throughout before serving. 

the ingredients:

1 box (or prepared refrigerated version) macaroni cheese
1 c shrimp, cooked
¾ c sour cream
¼ c olives, pitted and sliced
2 tbsp sweet red pepper or pimento, chopped
1 tbsp onion, chopped finely

Leg of Lamb with White Wine and Herbs

This week marks four years since Judson and I got married, and seven years since we first met, so we are off celebrating in Tenerife (an Spanish island in the Atlantic) all week long!

But I would never leave you without some celebratory recipes, so here’s a lovely fancy lamb recipe to make next time you have (a lot of) extra cash and some (very fancy) company coming over. Here’s the thing: I was trying to get this made during February, which, over here in the UK is Lamb Lovers’ Month. I thought this would be the perfect dish to make in honour of that… but then I went to the butcher shop and realised how expensive a butterflied, de-boned leg of lamb is.

The answer: very.

Last year to celebrate our anniversary, I made prime rib and the world’s most complicated key lime pie recipe. They were both amazing, and I was so proud of myself for how delicious (and easy!) the prime rib ended up being. I rationalised it in my head because the cost of the prime rib was much lower than the cost of two people going out for dinner… but that is most definitely not the case here. I never had any idea how pricey lamb was, so as soon as I realised how expensive it is, I immediately realised this would have to be our anniversary dinner. And man, was that expense worth it.

I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope for this recipe: Judson and I are both marginal lamb fans at best (though I have made some pretty awesome lamb recipes over the past year), and the marinade was just kind of basic (I thought), AND the biggest problem? This is meant to be cooked on a grill, which I obviously do not have access to in a country that rarely crests 20 degrees Celsius. So I thought we’d mess it up (and I’m lumping Judson in here because you’d better believe he got involved once I found out how expensive this meat was).

But I was totally wrong.

You know how usually when you marinate something, it might become more tender, or it might become saltier or sweeter or something, but you usually can’t taste each individual ingredient in the marinade in the final product? (No? Just me?) Not so in this recipe: the marinade imparted a strong rosemary flavour and an amazing level of bitter-sweetness from the wine. Plus, the oil created a delicious crust and helped to seal in all the moisture. This lamb tasted like a perfectly tender, perfectly seasoned steak, and I think if I had been blindfolded there is no way I would have identified it as lamb.

The only downside to this recipe is that you have to procure for yourself a deboned, butterflied leg of lamb—but your butcher will be able to help you out there, and though the original recipe calls for a 4-6 pound piece of meat, we scaled down based on the butcher’s recommendation for two people (and still got two meals each out of it!). The marinade is easy and if you have an upcoming celebration, I’d encourage you to give this a shot. It is, without a doubt, the best lamb I’ve ever tasted—and definitely the best I’ve ever made!

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. It was worth the price to try this, and hands down worth the ease with which we made it. I’m already hungry just thinking about the leftovers.

New! One year ago: Prime Rib of Beef

The recipe:

Butterflied Leg of Lamb

The directions:

Mix together all ingredients except for lamb.
Place lamb in a shallow dish and pour marinade over it.
Cover tightly and marinate in the refrigerator for 8-10 hours or overnight, turning occasionally.
Drain marinade and place meat in a large oven-proof dish.
Preheat broiler to medium, then place lamb approximately 6 inches from element.
Cook lamb in 10 minute increments, basting with additional wine in between.
Cook 40-45 minutes until lamb is pink in the middle but warmed throughout.
Allow to rest 5-10 minutes, then carve and enjoy.

The ingredients:

½ c vegetable oil
¼ c white wine + additional ½ c for basting
2 tbsp parsley, chopped fine
4 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
2 bay leaves
1-2 tbsp rosemary, chopped coarsely
1 large onion, chopped coarsely
1 tsp salt
1 leg of lamb, boned and butterflied