Firstly, sorry. To say I have been absent from my own blog is putting it mildly. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it, or any readers still out there in the ether, but life got in the way. Rather, a change to my life.

You see, I’ve lost 3.5 stone (49lbs), dropped 4 dress sizes and from starting c25k in April, am preparing for my first half marathon in three week’s time.

Yeah. Crazy. I’m a running fool. Love it. Can’t be without it. Even better? Now that I have the thyroxine at the right level and do all this running, I can eat cake. And bread. And pasta.

I. Love. Running.

I can eat cake without gaining weight.

Is miracle.

Also, our computer monitor went majorly up the creek and getting the colour right has been a mission. If the photos look very dreadfully wrong, do let me know.

So enough about me, let’s talk about this here cake. I got the magazine – Country Homes and Interiors (October 2011) – fourth-hand. I’ll be honest, it was a bit depressing looking at these spectacular places in the countryside with their achingly cool interiors and shabby chicness flung around, so I turned to the recipe bit. You know where you are with recipes. Doesn’t require a lottery win either. Or a grubby fling with a millionaire.

I chose it because it looked easy, simple and, well, filling. Nourishing. Not airy-fairy or full of cool, but solid and hole-filling.

Turned out to be one of the most flavoursome and delightful cakes I’ve made. Can’t recommend it enough.

Isn’t it just lovely when that happens?

Start by mixing 2 peeled, cored and diced apples with the chopped dates, 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda and 200 ml boiling water. Leave to cool completely.

Preheat the oven now and grease and line either a rectangular tin of 24x14cm or a 19-20cm square tin. I opted for the square tin. Now, if I were to stumble across a rectangular one with those dimensions, I could justify buying that. Feed that baking tin habit. Feeeeeeeeeeed it.

Ahem.

Beat the butter and sugar together til pale and fluffy/creamy/whatever

Beat in the eggs and vanilla then stir in the flour gently

Followed by the date/apple/water mixture (including any liquid left in the bowl)

Level the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for 1 hour.

Towards the end of the cooking time, make the topping. Put light muscovado sugar, butter and coconut cream (or coconut milk) in a small saucepan and heat until the butter melts.

Bring to the boil and let it bubble away for a couple of minutes

Remove from the heat and stir in 115g dessicated coconut then spoon over the cake

and smooth to an even layer

Return to the oven for another 15 minutes or until the topping is golden.

Cool in the tin before revealing its beauty

and slicing into delicious, moist, flavour-packed slices.

Date, Apple and Coconut Cake

(Country Homes and Interiors October 2011)

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)
200g dates, chopped
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and diced
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
200ml boiling water

125g lightly salted butter, softened
200g caster sugar
2 medium eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
200g plain flour

Topping:
75g light muscovado sugar
50g lightly salted butter
100ml coconut cream or coconut milk (the cream gave it a really rich flavour)
115g dessicated coconut

Mix the dates, apple, bicarb and boiling water in a bowl then leave to cool completely.

Preheat the oven to GM4/180C/350F.
Grease and line a square tin of 19-20 cm or a rectangular tin measuring 24x14cm.

Beat the butter and caster sugar until pale and fluffy/creamy.
Beat in the eggs and vanilla.
Stir in the flour then tip in the apple/date mixture – including any liquid left in the bowl. Stir to combine.
Put into the prepared tin and level the top. Bake for 1 hour.

Towards the end of the cooking time, make the topping.
Put the muscovado, butter and coconut cream in a small saucepan and heat until the butter melts.
Bring to the boil and let it bubble for a couple of minutes.
Remove from the heat and stir in the dessicated coconut.

Spoon over the baked cake evenly, then smooth to an even layer.
Return the cake to the oven for another 15 minutes or until the topping is golden brown.

Leave to cool in the tin before slicing.
Store in an airtight container.
It won’t last long.
The Borrowers eat it.

I’ll be honest, I made these on the spur of the moment and didn’t bother photographing the process because I thought, well, you know, how great can they be really? Answer, really great! Very flapjack-ish.

This is a recipe from Bill Granger’s ‘Every Day’; I’ve made them before and they were nice, but I made a couple of very minor changes and I preferred them this way. I haven’t been doing much in the way of baking recently, so maybe the reason behind the great response was more about the miracle of baked goods on a cooling rack than anything else. Leave them wanting more. I like my men grateful.

*Update* I made another batch and, bowing to chocolate pressure from child, used chocolate covered raisins. A big hit, so you might consider that too.

So here they are,

craggy

a bit chewy, but not too much

substantial, delicious and, well, gone.

Oatmeal and Raisin Cookies

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)

150g margarine (original calls for butter – an incredible thing to say, but I prefer the texture with marg)
225g Barbados, or demerara sugar (original calls for soft brown sugar, but the texture was more firm with the larger crystals of demerara)
1 egg, lightly beaten
3 tsp vanilla extract (increased from the original of 2)
125g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
pinch salt
235g rolled porridge oats
125g raisins

Preheat oven to GM4. Line 2-3 baking sheets with parchment.
In a bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, salt, oats and raisins.

In a large bowl, cream the margarine and sugar until combined and fluffy.
Add the egg and vanilla and beat in well.
Add the bowlful of dry ingredients and fold in with a spatula.
Roll/squish tablespoons of the dough into balls and place on the baking sheets.
Dip the tines of a fork into flour and press down on each of the cookies to flatten them.
Bake for 20 minutes or until pale golden. Cool on sheets for five minutes, then remove to racks to cool completely.

Rum Babas, basically. No, no, no. So much more than that. So much more.
Rum babas should be as good as it gets, but these little morsels – from the brain of Valentine Warner, but improved, slightly adapted by me – are even better. Yes, they are!
Orange zested buns soaked in a syrup flavoured by orange, orange flower water, orange liqueur and honey. All this orange sounds like overload, but it remains incredibly subtle. It’s the layering of the orange that does it. It sneaks in from all angles, but quietly, politely. It’s neither harsh nor brazen.

There is the slightest waft of the exotic in the barely discernible, yet very present, orange flower water. The freshness of Triple Sec – the least cloying of all orange liqueurs – is always less predictable than rum. My addition of orange zest to the batter makes the flavour carry through more.

Then there’s the honey. Warm, sticky, rounded and familiar, increased in its intensity by the quantity of sugar backing it up. There’s nothing like a massive slug of sugar syrup to show honey for the complex substance it is.
If anything is worth baking in Summer, it is this. Provided you have no objection to the consumption of a minor quantity of alcohol being consumed by your/someone’s child, then I can assure you that kids, well, my kid, loves them. They’re a crowd pleaser and definitely something I would make for a picnic – especially as you store them in jars. How very cool, hip, lifestyle and Anthropologie.

- *pause for whittering* O.M.G., I heart Anthropologie. I have been gasping over their website for ever. Then I met my dearest friend Claire in London for the day, requested a trip there and she took me. She took me to Anthropologie. It was a moment that I will never forget. She even took my picture by the living wall. Thank God I had stopped squealing and hanging on to it.
I left my heart there. If I win the lottery, I’m off to Regent Street to empty my purse right there. Dump, clatter.
‘One of everything, please.’
‘Certainly Madam. I say! Are those sticky, honey, orange scented buns packed artistically, yet deceptively casually, into a kilner-type jar?’
‘Why, yes they are!’
‘Madam, you are one of us.’
‘I know, right? Totally fey and co-ol. Did you know I am wearing crocheted knickers with a lace trim?’
‘*gasp* Madam is perfect!’
*blush*

- End of wittering, come on back in.

Grease the wells of a 12-hole mini muffin tray and mini doughnut tray with cake release spray or brush with melted butter. I like making these small – it gives dieters (like me – 2 stone gone!) the chance to have just one and everyone else the chance to eat many – because they are small. Feel free to make them in normal muffin tins – it’s all good.

Start by mixing together the sugar, flour, salt and yeast in a large bowl until well combined. Add half (or 3/4 if half isn’t enough) of the beaten eggs,

then whisk using an electric whisk until the mixture is well combined and forms a sticky paste. Don’t be fretting about overworking it. We have barely begun beating the life out of it.

Gradually whisk in a little of the remaining beaten egg. When the egg is fully incorporated into the mixture, add 1-2 of the softened butter cubes and whisk in until fully incorporated into the mixture.

Whisk the remaining beaten egg and remaining butter cubes into the mixture in alternate turns, until the mixture comes together as a soft dough.

It will climb up the beaters repeatedly. Do try not to fling it against the wall. No, really. You may want to rage at it, swear at it, open the back door and hurl that mofo down to the end of the garden.
Don’t.

Be zen. It wants to climb, so it will climb. Calmly scrape it down and get on with it so this part ends quickly.

Add the grated zest and then, using a wooden spoon or a spatula (let’s see it climb up that. HA!), beat the dough until smooth.

Divide the dough mixture equally among the wells in the prepared muffin tray. What I mean by this is, scoop a teaspoon full of the stretchy batter and deposit it into each mini muffin well. For the mini doughnut tin (should you also have acquired one from TKMaxx), I knock the dough off the spoon with my little finger and curl it round the centre ‘stalk’.

Set aside in a warm place for 50-60 mins (I put mine in the airing cupboard), or until the buns have doubled in size and filled the wells in the tray. I sometimes just take them out after 60 mins regardless. I know this is bad, but I am being honest. £300 says I’m not alone.

Meanwhile, for the syrup, heat the caster sugar, orange rind and cold water in a pan over a low heat, stirring well. When the sugar has dissolved, bring the mixture to the boil and continue to boil for 5, 7, maybe even 10 minutes, or until the mixture has thickened slightly and resembles syrup. Don’t over-think it though- it thickens significantly once it’s been in the fridge.

Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the honey, orange liqueur and orange-flower water, until well combined. Set aside until cooled slightly.

Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas 6.

When the buns are proved and swollen,

bake them in the oven for 10-12 minutes, or until well risen and pale golden-brown. Swap the trays over in the oven after 5 mins. These buns have a real thing about burning. Watch them like a hawk. They WANT to burn. Catch them at that deep golden deliciousness stage.

Set aside to cool on a wire rack.

Pack the buns into two 1 litre/1¾ pints sterilised jars. Equally divide the syrup and set aside for 20 minutes

then cover the jar and seal tightly. I like to stand the jars on their heads for a while to give the top ones a good soaking before moving them to the fridge.

Incidentally, Valentine Warner says the buns can be kept in the fridge for up to one month.

The syrup doesn’t completely cover the buns, so I like to rotate them occasionally whilst they’re living in the fridge. I cannot overstate the extent to which these are saturated by the syrup, so don’t lose sleep over ‘the ones at the top being dry’. Ain’t never gonna happen, friend.

I serve them as is, but a swirl of whipped cream wouldn’t detract from the flavour…

Orangey honey buns (Valentine Warner’s recipe, fiddled with)

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)

(Original recipe here)

Buns

4 tsp caster sugar
150g plain flour
pinch sea salt flakes
1 x 7g sachet easy-blend dried yeast
3 large free-range eggs, lightly beaten
75g butter, slightly softened, cut into cubes, plus extra for greasing
grated zest 1 orange

Syrup

500g caster sugar
1 orange, rind only, rind cut into long strips
500ml cold water
100g-150g clear honey (mine was a bit weak and feeble, so I upped it to 150g)
4 tbsp orange liqueur (I used Triple Sec)
1 tsp orange-flower water

whipped cream, to serve (optional)

Grease the wells of a 12-hole mini muffin tray and mini doughnut tray with Cake release spray.

Mix together the sugar, flour, salt and yeast in a large bowl until well combined. Add half (or 3/4) of the beaten eggs, then whisk using an electric whisk until the mixture is well combined and forms a sticky paste.

Gradually whisk in a little of the remaining beaten egg. When the egg is fully incorporated into the mixture, add 1-2 butter cubes and whisk in until fully incorporated into the mixture.
Whisk the remaining beaten egg and remaining butter cubes into the mixture in alternate turns, until the mixture comes together as a soft dough. It will climb up the beaters repeatedly. Do try not to fling it against the wall.
Add the grated zest and then, using a wooden spoon, beat the dough until smooth.

Divide the dough mixture equally among the wells in the prepared muffin tray. Set aside in a warm place for 50-60 mins, or until the buns have doubled in size and filled the wells in the tray.

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas 6.

When the buns are swollen, bake them in the oven for 10-12 minutes, or until well risen and pale golden-brown. Swap the trays over in the oven after 5 mins. These buns have a real thing about burning. Watch them like a hawk.
Set aside to cool on a wire rack.

Meanwhile, for the syrup, heat the sugar, orange rind and cold water in a pan over a low heat, stirring well. When the sugar has dissolved, bring the mixture to the boil and continue to boil for 5, 7, maybe even 10 minutes, or until the mixture has thickened slightly and resembles syrup. Don’t over-think it – it thickens significantly once it’s been in the fridge.

Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the honey, orange liqueur and orange-flower water, until well combined. Set aside until cooled slightly.

Pack the buns into two 1 litre/1¾ pints sterilised jars. Equally divide the syrup and set aside for 20 minutes, then cover the jar and seal tightly. The buns can be kept in the fridge for up to one month.

Seaspinoodles, or seafood and spinach noodles, if you prefer.

Or and excellent source of calcium, iron and zinc, if you prefer.

Or, a quick, easy, tasty and healthy meal if that’s more your thing.

I’m not sure this qualifies as a recipe as such, because it’s one of many variations on my standard noodles-with-something repertoire. Still, someone might find it helpful and I’m all about being helpful and accommodating. I know, right? Literally can’t help myself.

I like to use these oils – Mild olive oil and sesame oil. The sesame oil is important if you want it to have a whiff of the oriental to it. If I’m using a wok, I’m using sesame oil and that’s that.

Glug about a tablespoon of the olive oil and a good shake of the sesame oil into the hot wok. It all needs to be hot, hot, hot. Don’t be crazy about it, I mean there’s smoking hot and there’s being reckless, but you want hot rather than ‘getting there’.

Finely slice your vegetables of choice – spring onions (scallions) and red pepper are the law and at this time of year when the garden is rammed full of courgettes, they get flung in too. A very nice addition, they make. You can add every kind of vegetable you like. Go crazy! (BTW, if adding different vegetables makes you feel like you’re being crazy, then you should probably consider taking up something daring. Just sayin.)

Select your noodles – I like medium egg noodles – and lower them into boiling water. You lower them in, the water stops boiling. 1 nest of noodles per human.

Boiling its head off for 3-4 minutes – whatever the packet instructions are

Then drain and immediately cool with cold running water. Don’t skip this bit. Unless you prefer drinking your noodles or have no teeth, of course.

Get the veggies frying. You can fry them as much of as little as you like. Personally, I like them to be pretty much cooked through. Not a fan of hot, raw vegetables.

Dump in your cooled, drained noodles

Open your packet of mixed seafood

and dump that in along with a couple of big handfuls of washed spinach

Then get in there with some tongs or pokey instrument of your choice and keep it all moving together. This way, the seafood gets a chance to heat through and the spinach gets evenly wilted.

Check that it’s all hot – lukewarm seafood is a tad scary – and serve with artistic flair

I would encourage you to add a little dark soy when you’ve plated up, but then soy is good on everything! Enjoy.

——-

Seaspinoodles (Seafood and Spinach Noodles)

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)

1 tbsp mild olive oil (do add more if you like!)
about the same of sesame oil
Medium egg noodles – as many nests as there are humans
1 bunch spring onions (scallions), finely chopped
1 red pepper, sliced/chopped
2 courgettes, diced
1 packet mixed seafood
2 big handfuls spinach – washed and drained
Dark soy sauce to serve

Cook the noodles as per packet instructions, then drain them and cool immediately with cold, running water. Leave to drain.

Put the oil in a hot wok.
Add the vegetables (not the spinach yet) and get them cooking.
Once they’re nearly there, add the noodles to the wok. Combine.
Add the seafood and spinach, keep moving to combine and wilt the spinach.

Check it’s all hot through and serve, with soy sauce!

Here are the results:

Comment number 28 – that’s Isabel! Congratulations Isabel!

Comment number 45 – that’s Weesie Malarkey! Congratulations!

I have just e-mailed you both – be sure to e-mail your addresses so that I can get these in the post to you.

Thanks for playing y’all

A little treat

Those nice people at Dr Oetker were kind enough to send me some more of their new cake release spray to give away to two of you good people. Now if you live in the US, this might be a non-event, but those of us living in the UK, being able to lay your hands on cake release spray is something exciting.

Yes, really. It is exciting. I shall explain.

Why? Well, the US – Nordicware in particular – have seen fit to allow the slow, very pricey trickle of bundt tins into this country. We have tins shaped like trains and beehives and bugs and pirate ships; it’s too exciting for words. Other manufacturers are producing more and more intricate pans too. Flowers, bugs, cars, teddies, genitals. Well, maybe not genitals, but frankly it’s only a matter of time.

Diligently, thoroughly and painstakingly we brushed these pans with melted butter or white fat and then, gently, but being careful not to miss a millimetre of pan exposed, we dust with flour, pausing only to rap all the excess down the sink so as not to smudge the detail. And we fret. Gently, evenly spooning the mixture in so as not to wipe away this melted fat/flour combo. It’s all very alarming to the uninitiated.

To be honest, they are less exacting with their forensic techniques in CSI. Positively slapdash in comparison.

So when you happen to see some lucky-as-a-rabbit-with-all-its-feet American cook on TV, casually spraying a bundt pan with some fabled cake release spray in just a moment, well, it really irks. I did buy some of the stuff in a little cookshop once, but as it had been imported, it was the most outrageous price. Unrepeatably expensive, in fact.

So, congrats to Dr Oetker for seeing this gap in the market and filling it! Hoorah!

And hoorah for giveaways.

So, as I said, two lucky readers from the UK will each receive one bottle of Dr O’s Cake Release Spray. Just leave a comment on this post and I’ll put your name in the hat! (Sorry they can’t be sent overseas – airmail restrictions and all that) Don’t forget to provide an e-mail addy when you sign in to comment!

Winner’s names will be announced on Wednesday 20th July. Good luck!

OK, I have to be honest and tell you that this is a really old set of photos from, well, the Winter. It seems like an age ago, but the poor quality of the photos can at least be explained by the complete lack of sunlight. You wouldn’t think that the South Coast of England could be so devoid of natural light in Winter but these craptastic shots are a testament to the dark truth.

This was a pretty common meal for us during our spasmodic Vegetarian periods. It tastily stands on its own two feet whether you eat meat or not, but it is substantial so I’m not sure that you’d really want a great slab of meat with it. Seems a bit over-ambitious to me. Unnecessary even? DH would not agree Adding green veg to the plate elevates it even further to near Sainthood.

Take a pepper. We nearly always use red peppers and if we have the choice, select the long pointy ones. They’re so cute! Phallic, admittedly, but much cuter than… well. Anyway.

In a frying pan (with a matching lid for later) heat a glug of olive oil and a knob of salted butter. Add the finely chopped onion and cook over a low heat until softened, but not too coloured.
Add a couple of cloves of garlic that you’ve also finely chopped and stir in for a minute. Next, add 4 chopped tomatoes,

then put the lid on and sweat for 5-10 mins to soften.

Add the basmati rice and oregano

Then pour in the stock.

One small point; during The Vegetarian Period, we used vegetable stock. Now that we eat meat, I use chicken stock pretty much exclusively. I find using vegetable stock leaves a big base note missing in this recipe. If you are vegetarian, I expect you have made this kind of recipe a thousand times anyway, but I’d be interested to know how you notched the flavour up.

Cook for 15-20 mins or until the rice is cooked – stirring regularly and adding more stock or hot water if needed. Lid on.

Once the rice is cooked, remove the lid and continue to cook to evaporate any liquid. Stir in another knob of butter.

Place the 4 halves of pepper in a baking dish and equally distribute the rice.

Top each stuffed half with cheese. I used pre-sliced Monteray Jack, but use what you like – just try and make it a melty one.

Pour a little hot water into the baking dish to help the peppers along, cover with foil and bake for 30-40 mins, removing the foil towards the end to brown the cheese.

Delish.

Rice Stuffed Peppers

PRINT THIS RECIPE (opens in a new window)
2 long, sweet, pointed red peppers, halved lengthways, seeds and membranes removed
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
4 tomatoes, chopped
1/2 tsp oregano (optional)
150g basmati
300-400ml chicken/vegetable stock
slices of a melty cheese – Monterey Jack, gruyere, emmenthal

Preheat oven to GM5/200C/400F

In a frying pan (with a matching lid for later) heat a glug of olive oil and a knob of salted butter.
Add the onions and cook over a low heat until softened, but not too coloured.
Add the garlic and stir in for a minute.
Add the tomatoes and oregano, put the lid on and sweat for 5-10 mins to soften.
Stir in the rice and stock, replace the lid and cook for 15-20 mins or until the rice is cooked – stirring regularly and adding more stock or hot water if needed.
Once the rice is cooked, remove the lid and continue to cook to evaporate any liquid. Stir in another knob of butter.

Place the 4 halves of pepper in a baking dish and equally distribute the rice.
Top each stuffed half with cheese.
Pour a little hot water into the baking dish to help the peppers along, cover with foil and bake for 30-40 mins, removing the foil towards the end to brown the cheese.

Mum has been doing really, really well. Both surgical sites are healing well and she’s being the poster girl for post-operative exercises. Three times a day she has to wave her arms around in the air. Now that she’s fully in her stride with them, I’m considering sending her to various airports in the area. I feel she may have found another niche.

There is one fly in her Chardonnay, however.

Clue one:

Clue Two:

No? OK. She has a Seroma under her left arm. Muh Muh Muh My seroma!

A seroma is a large swelling that is full of serous fluid – the same fluid that’s in a blister, for example. Except it’s much bigger than a blister, it’s, well, really big actually.

Maybe not quite as big as SJP’s clutch or the two gentlemen’s bagpipes, but you take my point. Were it not for the fluid, (erm and the discomfort and weirdness) it would be a convenient storage area. I mean, I really struggled to find an armband thing to hold my MP3 player when I go running. I had no idea that the body could grow this type of thing so effectively – so relentlessly. I mean, really, stop growing already!

Anyway, she goes back for the pathology results on the lymph nodes tomorrow and they’ll look at it again then (she’s had it drained once already – that was a fun way to pass an hour).

In order not to be excluded,

the ginger high-maintenance dog has developed a limp.

She’ll be fine – lots of rest and hugely expensive anti-inflammatory medication should do the trick. Vet’s bills are never less than £50 eh? For a limp, I tell you. She nearly developed a limp on the other side as I staggered backwards when Mother paid the bill. She dodged just in time. The dog; not Mum.

Dad isn’t much better. He’s done two rounds of antibiotics and steroids to no avail. I blame witchcraft and curses, myself,

Oh, my mistake, it isn’t witchcraft and curses. (It isn’t TB either – they’re trying to identify the specific infection. this would be much easier if they didn’t lose the sample.). He’s horribly hoarse as well now, from all the coughing, so it’s mugs of honey and lemon for him all the way. The Pulmonary nurses are keeping in touch with him, so that’s great.

That’s it so far. Back for the results tomorrow – don’t know whether they’ll tell us more about when the radiotherapy starts, just keeping our fingers crossed that those lymph nodes are clear.

No cakes yet – I nearly made a banana cake today, but ran out of time. Maybe tomorrow

goes into hospital tomorrow to have a malignant breast lump and a couple of lymph nodes for good measure, removed (not the lamb – the lamb was NOT attached) and once she’s healed, will have three weeks of daily radiotherapy. Her BFF, Brenda, has taken her over to the breast care unit today to have a wire placed into the tumour ready for surgery tomorrow.

Meanwhile, my Dad:

has health problems of his own and has also developed the most hideous chest infection this week, so we will be supporting/helping/slaving for both of them and their two high-maintenance dogs:

and

How I’m going to have time to continue my sordid affair with that household-name man who has the super injunction in place to protect us both is beyond me.

Sorry, no it isn’t a super-injunction for us – it’s a restraining order against me. My error.

Anyway, (awkward), if the affair is going to suffer, I dread to think what will happen to the cooking:

Be assured, however, that we are all OK – haven’t stopped blogging, haven’t died, just busy:

I’ll probably update more frequently on my facebook page as that will be easier when I’m out and about.

Kisses!

Whiting. They look so, well, pedestrian until you really study them. Basically an orangey fish, but look at that lilac shimmer and golden glow on the face. You’d pay £s for cosmetics that impressive.

A white fish, it is part of the cod and pollack family, but far more delicately flaked and flavoured than the substantial cod. It’s less used than cod and I have no idea why; it’s delicious and abundant, indeed, according to my husband, downright suicidal in that it hurls itself at bait. Rather a drawback when that isn’t the species you’re after, but a whiting of a decent size is not to be sniffed at.

It has to be said, filleting a fish is filleting a fish.
This demonstration is no different from the how to fillet a mackerel post, but I know when you’re unsure about a new thing and when you’re specifically searching for ‘how to fillet a whiting’, what you want is pictures of someone filleting a whiting – not filleting a mackerel and saying “you can do this to whiting too, don’t you know?”
So here is the process of filleting a whiting. Same rules apply – say hi in the comments…pretty please?

Hello dear.

To fillet.

Cut across the fish – behind the pectoral fin – down to the resistance of the bone.

-

Turn the knife and cut lengthways on top of the spine, down the length of the body

All the way to the tail

Life the flap you have effectively made and with clean, sweeping strokes (but not so sweeping that you remove your own hand), work your way over the backbone – keeping your knife as close to bone as possible – to whittle fillet from skeleton

Once you’ve really freed it up, cut through the tail section to release

Keeping stroking and whittling

Then you can make the final cut to release the fillet. This is hard to describe, but keep the knife horizontal as opposed to following the natural curve down to the belly. That way, you avoid including the rib bones around the belly cavity in your fillet. Don’t worry – you can always trim them off when the fillet is free.

Turn the fish over to fillet the other side

Cut behind the head and pectoral fin

Make the cut down the back and stroke the horizontal knife along the skeleton again to lift that fillet off

Through the tail section again to release

and working the knife gently under the flap of flesh

Once the fillet is off, stroke it with your fingertips to feel for any bones that need to be trimmed. Trim the top of the fillet to remove any stray bits of fin. Check the belly side of the fillet to make sure you have got rid of those belly/rib bones.

Done. They tend to be a bit skinny, a bit diminutive. Delightful.

Now, what to do with it? Cook it as you would any white fish - fry it, grill it, use it in a fish pie, smother it in sauce, or make Crispy Whiting.

How d’ya like the whiting? Tell me! *nudge* < it worked before.