Mackerel Fishing in Salcombe

The prospect of a 2 hour sea fishing trip on a glorious August summer afternoon with 5 fantastic mates was extremely exciting. Apart from a spot of crab fishing aged 5 at Dittisham on the River Dart, it’s fair to say that my fishing experience to date is somewhat limited and the same certainly goes for Browny.

Anna had done her usual, by arranging our day trip with precision and superb execution. You could almost hear Austin Powers shouting out "nerd alert". Once all aboard, our skipper, who some might say, was a rather bored and grumpy old sea-dog, successfully navigated us out of the Kingsbridge estuary avoiding the dozens of infants whizzing around on dingies out into the open seawaters.





It didn’t take long for things to get interesting and soon big rollers were crashing against the side of our vessel, releasing a shower of sea water and spray over us. To say the conditions were rough would be a gross exaggeration, but for those with relatively weak sea leg likes myself and Anna this was pretty hairy.



“Just keep looking at the horizon and you’ll be fine” were the fine pearls of wisdom from Nick as Anna and I gradually turned the colour of a fresh avocado. It turned out, contrary to popular folklore, that singing sea shanties in a bid to avoid being sick, actually has the opposite effect!

We were exhilarated, bouncy and boisterous at the prospect of catching our own supper. There is something incredibly satisfying yet humbling about popping a line down, deep into the calm ecosystem below the surface in the expectation that something might just take. And when a fish is foolish enough to rook onto your line there is suddenly an extraordinary connection between man and fish, all through a piece of tough nylon.

Nick proved to a complete mackerel magnet and caught almost an entire school of fish in about 10 minutes, as well as cheeky gurnard for good measure. For the rest of us, we had moments of brilliance interspersed with fathoms of frustration. But needless to say we came home with more than enough mackerel to feed some very peckish campers. In fact we caught so many mackerel that the boys started to play with their supper...





We went back to our camp site at Higher Rew via Hope Cove where we marvelled at their amusing street signs before gutting our fish and feeding the innards to some scavenging and very appreciative gulls. It's crucial, apparently, to gut your mackerel within 30 minutes of catching them. And to make sure you rinse them in sea water.





Nick took charge of the mackerel cooking by simply grilling them over some hot coals. Whilst not undermining Nick's prodigious mackerel cooking skills, it seems all you have to do is turn them after a couple of minutes, squeeze a lemon over them and then get lauded as the greatest fish chef ever to grace a BBQ!



By Cowie

Char Grilled Red Bream

This isn’t much of a looker. So I’m sorry. But, considering the pitch black conditions it is a miracle we’ve got a photo at all. The light is from a head torch. This is a story, albeit a short one, about how to BBQ fish.

Our fishmonger from behind the Cob at Lyme Regis steered us away from the usual suspects such as mackerel, sea bass, and cod and into the unchartered waters of red bream. He dissuaded us from buying a variety of more expensive and exotic fish on the grounds that this was the freshest thing he had and wanted us to have it.

On arrival back at our camp site we landed up having to beg a few lit coals from a neighbouring group who turned out to be raving psychopaths. Having refused us any of their fire they then relented and tried to befriend us with offerings of horrific rabbit stew that couldn’t have been tougher if it had been sporting knuckle dusters and full facial tattoos.

With our fire alit I then scaled the fish and then coated it in seasoned flour to protect the flesh. We then put a handful of new potatoes in a foil parcel and sprinkled them with olive oil, salt, pepper and rosemary. Once we’d devoured our scallops and groaned at the hazelnut butter we then set about grilling our fish.

To BBQ fish you have to be on your guard at all times. Like a spy deep inside enemy territory. It cooks very quickly and has a tendency to get stuck to the bars. So be armed with 2 spatulas, expert reflexes and a head torch.

Lightly oil the bars on your grill. Then place the fish skin down over indirect heat. The temperature should be hot enough for the skin to immediately make a sizzling noise. After a few minutes inspect the fish and use a finger to check if the skin in crisp or burning. If it feels crisp then it is time for the big moment. The flip.

Using both spatulas jab the fish from the side and in one motion turn the fish so that the skin is facing up. Then cook for a minute or so longer and you will be rewarded with flaking fish and crispy fish skin which are two of my all time favourite things.

Serve with char grilled aubergines, peppers and tomatoes and roasted new potatoes.

Barbecued Scallops with Hazelnut Butter

Its now been a month or so since we returned from our epic trip to the West, yet Browny and Rad are still talking about their favourite dish this year. It is always a bonus when a fishmonger not only sells you some sublimely fresh seafood, but when they also offer free advice and recommendations about how to cook the produce, it makes it taste even better.

Whilst I manned the car in the buzzing hub of Lyme Regis, Rad and Browny disappeared like two mischievous school boys in the Old Watch House fishmongers and returned with a ton of scallops and some red bream.

The chap in charge suggested that we grilled the scallops on the barbie and then, once on the verge of being cooked dip them into a homemade, warm toasted hazelnut butter (which you make by simply toasting some hazlenuts in a pan and then creating a beurre noisette) and squeeze on some lemon juice and sprinkle with salt.



We were in heaven. It doesn’t get much better than sitting round a camp fire with friends and loved ones in the heart of the stunning rural Dorset countryside, listening to chilled, classic tunes and indulging in beauties such as these.

By Cowie

If you need a more detailed recipe it seems James Martin has one which you can follow. But you don't need it really.

Salcombe Crab Risotto on a Campfire

I’m so pleased we’ve stumbled across Salcombe. We liked it so much earlier in the summer that we returned with Edwin and Anna who brought a beautiful old Alfa Romeo to the party and Nick and Harriet who are experts in fishing and outdoor living. So between the 6 of us we were well equipped for a long weekend of camping.



Higher Rew campsite nestles South West of Salcombe, protected from the sea by Bolthead which is renowned for lending itself to spectacular walks. Cowie and I arrived early and secured a prime spot at the top of the hill, hidden from all the other tents and blessed with a view that would have made Thomas Hardy, hard.

Thanks to some local knowledge, sent our way by Chris Smith (who I don’t think is the outed Labour Minister), we knew to avoid the fishmonger in the centre of Salcombe and instead to pay a visit to Yeoward and Dowie which is a boatyard on Island Street. Not only are they experts in mending and chartering boats, but they sell live lobsters and crabs!





We soon found the crab and lobster tank and were mesmerized by the shell clad beauties that jostled around like passengers in a Ryan Air queue. Lobster tentacles occasionally breached the water like U-boats erecting their periscopes.





In order to feed 6 we decided to buy a couple of large crabs which they very kindly cooked for us and kept in the fridge until we returned from our mackerel fishing trip.



We returned back to our campsite with the sun beginning to think about turning in for the day and set about making what turned out to be a fantastic crab risotto using our cataplana pan.

First of all Edwin and Nick did a phenomenal job of picking as much meat out of our crabs as possible with the help of a large screw driver and Cowie’s tweezers!



We then made stock with the shell, with a vegetable stock cube lobbed in for good measure as well.



Whilst the stock was bubbling away we also grilled a bunch of Cowie’s favourite vegetables which we added into the risotto towards the end to add some extra charry interest.



Once the stock was ready we set it aside along with the veggies and nestled the cataplana into the hot coals. Once it was up to heat we fried 2 onions along with some garlic until soft. Then we poured in a bag of Arborio rice and listened to it crackle. This has to be one of my favourite sounds. It’s so reassuring and is synonmysous with being able to enjoy cooking at a leisurely pace. It’s a million miles from the clack of a toaster or ping of a microwave. It’s the sound of cooking for pleasure.

Once the sizzling had died down we threw a good glug of white wine and felt our faces dampen and numb slightly with wine fumes. Once the wine had whooshed away we then ladled in the crab stock and stirred, religiously, for the next hour.





As the heat waned we found that clamping the lid of the cataplana shut worked brilliantly to get the risotto bubbling again. After 45 minutes it had swelled and thickened, taking on a creamy quality that was impossible to see in the dark, but you could sense from the feel.

At this point we mixed in the char grilled peppers and aubergines before adding half of the crab meat. Plenty of salt, pepper and a nudge of chilli helped to add some seasoning. Spinach added colour. And a lashing of crème fraiche and knob of butter added gloss and luxury. We thhen added a topping of the remaining crab meat to each portion and a sprinkle of parsley.

We ate it in the pitch dark, in a scene reminiscent of an outdoor Dans le Noir, and sat back in bliss. Given the context it is without question the most memorable risotto I’ve ever eaten or cooked and has to go down as one of the year’s main highlights.

Cataplana Monkfish Tomato and Paprika Stew

Is it a bed pan? Is it a UFO? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a copper Portuguese cooking vessel called a Cataplana of course!

It was an inspired present from Cowie for my birthday and had sat since April on my bedroom shelf taunting me. So I decided to take it with us on our trip around the South West. And I am delighted we did.

On a glorious evening sitting outside our tent at Higher Rew campsite just outside Salcombe, we looked out across a scene that deserved to be painted rather than waffled about. The heat of the day eased away and the whispy clouds puffed and the dew started to settle.

In the last light of day we lit our BBQ and grilled some aubergines, peppers, courgettes and tomatoes which had been seasoned and brushed with olive oil. Having achieved a delicate char with a beer in hand we set these aside and set the cataplana on the now glowing coals.





Fry two onions and a couple of chillies in some olive oil and then add plenty of garlic once you feel it’s not going to burn.



Then add a tube of tomato paste, some smoked paprika and cook for a minute or so. Then add a jar of pasatta, a slurp of red wine and then your monkfish tail. This dish works best with a firm fish like monkfish that can stand up to the strong flavours and robust cooking… but if you’ve got pollack or another flaky fish then just pop the fish in later on. Close up the cataplana and indulge in some well deserved wine.

Open the lid after 10 minutes to check how things are going and give the stew a stir so it doesn’t catch on the bottom. After 20 – 30 minutes it should be ready. Before serving throw the previously grilled veg and a handful of prawns into the stew and let it heat through.

We simply decanted the stew into a large bowl and tucked in. The combination of deep tomato, spicy paprika and flaky white fish is magnificent. It may not look brilliant in this photo, but you’ll just have to believe me when I say that it is the best thing we’ve cooked this year. It would have been even more awesome if we’d been able to find some good chorizo. But we’ll just have to save that for next time.



Cataplana image at the top is from the CataPlanas website, where I believe Cowie may have purchased it from.

Pancakes at Dawn

In my mind, without question, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It wakes you up, fills your belly and sets you up for the day ahead. Equally I adore pancakes and wish we didn’t always save them for Shove Tuesday. Make a simple batter using flour, water and egg and shake it all up in a Tupperware tub to mix it. Then fry the batter in a smidgen of butter and try not to get too much grass in the pan!

The hot and moreish pancakes were scattered with a generous sprinkle of brown sugar, the peaches were tossed for a minute or two in the pan and the rhubarb yoghurt added a delightful creamy texture to pull the dish together. A few blades of grass never hurts either. Truly yum.







By Cowie

Sea Bass in a Parcel

We bought a line caught sea bass from Fowey Fish with the assurance that it had been caught just off the Fowey coast. The flesh was firm, almost stiff and almost begged to be herbed and steamed in a parcel.





Simply sprinkle inside and out with salt and pepper and scatter thyme, marjoram and lemon zest. Trickle with olive oil and then wrap the fish in two layers of foil but leave a gap so you can pour in a glass of white wine.

Place the parcel on the BBQ and cook over hot coals for around 10 minutes per side. This timing clearly varies depending on how hot your coals are and the size of your fish. (We ate the fish in two sittings, side by side. Party because we were famished and also because we didn't want the other top side to get cold or overcook).

The flesh was moist, flaky and fragrant with herbs and pearly white. Cous cous with grilled courgettes, aubergines and tomatoes was a great accompaniment. As was a bottle of very cold Muscadet.

But the highlight was watching a well paunched man walking along with his washing up make a detour to follow where the nice smell was coming from. This dish is super simple, but it's a great way of doing justice to spankingly fresh fish.

Asian Crab Claws on a BBQ

Our trip around the South West didn't just revolve around restaurants, pubs and BnBs. We interspersed these indulgences with a healthy amount of camping, partly to keep the costs down and also to give us a chance to cook some fantastic local produce on our BBQ. Over the last few years we've tried to avoid ever doing anything average and instead have tried to be a bit more experimental and interesting with what we do, such as smoking trout and doing beer can chicken. We've built up a supply of gourmet camping kit and never set off with our tent without our trusty football BBQ, larder of herbs, oils and an array of spices. Here's the first in a handful of posts about what we cooked on our camp sites...

While we were at the fish monger in Fowey we spotted the armour like crab claws laden in the corner on the fish slab. Once we established that half a dozen were only going to cost us £2.50 we ordered them by the scoop. Bizarrely, because they sell so many dressed crabs, they land up with lefover claws! It’s one of those little twists in life that make all the bad things seem to vanish.



The fishmonger, very kindly, bashed the claws for us as well as issuing us with cooking instructions and suggestions of where to eat and where to avoid in Fowey -mainly based on who they supply and who has recently let them down. I can’t give the details here as I’ll get them in trouble. But it was fascinating to pick up on some of the gossip that made Fowey seem more like Westminster than a well to do sailing resort!

We chugged across the chain ferry to our camp site and immediately set about cooking our crab claws in a style that I remember from Lamma Island off Hong Kong.





Simply sautée a large amount of garlic, butter, chilli, spring onions and ginger in a hot frying pan. Meanwhile put your crab claws on the grill so they start to heat up and become aromatic. Then add the claws to the pan for 3-5 mins to absorb the majestic flavours. Glug in some soy sauce too and then dive in with the enthusiasm of a hyperactive toddler who’s just mistaken the Sanatogen bottle for some Smarties. So simple, but so good.

You’ll be able to smugly saunter over to the communal washing up area, safe in the knowledge that your supper was a million times better than their reheated can of chilli con carne. Just watch out for any attacks to your tent during the night.