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

Crab Soufflé

I know what you're thinking: this is gonna be some kind of weird knock-off of a soufflé made with canned soup and Velveeta. But you are wrong.

There are things we all have irrational cooking fears about: my mom was terrified to make lasagne until she was well into her 30s, I was nervous about making crepes until my 29th year when I learned how easy they were, mussels always alarmed me until my dear husband bought me an entire cookbook of Italian seafood recipes, and Judson always had a phobia of making crackers until I convinced him to do it for a New Year's Eve party one year... but those are all irrational fears, because, eventually, we made the dishes in question and learned that they were insanely easy (crackers literally only have two ingredients!).

On the other end of the spectrum are the rational cooking fears: things like soufflés, molecular gastronomy, crème brulée, and anything with foam go on this list. It's not often that I attempt things from this list. Don't get me wrong, I make complicated recipes in my non-blog life (and occasionally in my blog life), but I tend more toward long and arduous recipes with lots of ingredients rather than recipes that require specific techniques. (That's probably a failing on my part.) As it turns out, though, Eleanor's cooking style must have mirrored mine-- at least somewhat-- because most of her recipes, even the difficult ones, are only difficult because of how many ingredients they have-- not because of the techniques required.

Which is why I was as surprised as you were when I found the recipe for this soufflé in the box-- and I was anticipating a massive failure. I've only made a soufflé once (and as such, I remain the youngest/only person I know who has ever made one), but it was under the tutelage of an elderly French woman and so it wasn't exactly a solo venture. This one, though, I attempted on my own and it still came out a total win (though, alas, not particularly beautiful).

Cheese + Milk=Together forever.

Cheese + Milk=Together forever.

The texture gets ickier after adding the yolks, but it'll be worth it!

The texture gets ickier after adding the yolks, but it'll be worth it!

If you've never had a soufflé, might I encourage you to try this one? If you don't like seafood, you can just leave out the crab for a ragingly awesome cheese soufflé that would be perfect for lunch or even weekend brunch. The crab, though, is easy to get since you can use canned crabmeat, and it's also less expensive than using fresh would be. (Though seriously, if you made this with lump crabmeat, I might just invite myself over for dinner because yum.) This is the kind of recipe to make when you've got company coming. It's easy, delicious, cheap, and everyone will be so impressed. You'll be The Girl (or Guy) Who Makes Soufflés. No one has to know that it uses two canned ingredients and the recipe came off a blog that nabbed it from the 1959 edition of Kraft Cookery. If there's one recipe in this box that proves some things are just timeless, it's this one.

Some technique advice (not that you need it):

  • Whip 'em. (Whip 'em good). Those egg whites are what's going to make this a soufflé and not just a quiche, so whip them until they are super stiff. (Like, when you pull your beater out, they should stand straight up and be nice and shiny. Not foamy, and not slumped over like waves at the beach).
  • This would be amaaaaazing with a tiny sprinkle of chili powder for heat, or nutmeg for spice. Or even some dried dill to make it more like a crabcake.
  • As written below, this makes 2 main-course sized portions or 3 petite side dishes. Easily doubles to feed 4-6, but then you'll need a standard loaf pan instead of the silly wee one I used. As with any soufflé, it's best eaten fresh, so scale according to your needs.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five.Even Judson, who doesn't dislike seafood but would never go out of his way to eat it, loved this. It's super easy, even on a weeknight, and you don't need any special equipment. An electric mixer is super helpful for beating those egg whites, but not technically necessary. This is as close to a foolproof recipe as I've come across in the box (except for the 3-ingredient bread recipe, because come on).

The recipe:

Crab Soufflé

the directions:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F.
Heat evaporated milk over very low heat until bubbles form around the edge of the pot.
Add cheese, salt, pepper, and any other herbs and stir until melted and smooth. (Try not to dig in at this point.)
Allow to cool to lukewarm.
While cooling, beat the egg whites until very stiff and glossy, then set aside.
After cheese mixture has cooled, stir in egg yolks, one at a time, stirring until smooth.
Fold egg whites into cheese mixture with a spatula, using spatula to 'turn' mixture very gently.
Mixture should not be smooth, but egg white should be thoroughly blended into batter.
Place crabmeat in bottom of loaf pan.
Gently top with cheese mixture and smooth the top with spatula.
Bake for 35-45 minutes until risen and brown and crisp on top.

Serves 2 as a main course, or 3, petitely.

the ingredients:

¼ c evaporated milk
½ c sharp cheddar cheese, grated
½ tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
3 eggs, separated, both parts reserved
1 c crabmeat

Alpine Favourite, or Sardine Sandwiches

Eleanor was a strict Catholic. Her family emigrated from Poland not long before she was born, and as a first-generation citizen, she took the role of religion in her everyday life very seriously in the way that only a newly-minted American can. When Eleanor was on vacation, she searched out Catholic churches to attend on Sundays so that she would never miss a week of mass. In the letters that Wilbur, her husband, wrote to her during World War II, he frequently assures her that he's attending church every week so she needn't worry about his soul. When I was a kid I loved looking at the stack of funeral cards that belonged to Eleanor, and which my mom kept tucked into my grandpa's Bible, each of them with a beautiful (I thought) painting of Mary on one side and a prayer for the soul of the departed on the other. Eleanor had a saint for everything, so it should come as no surprise that my mom was in her twenties before she ever ate meat on a Friday. Lent or no, Eleanor served fish on Fridays and would sooner have eaten the paint on the walls than meat on a Friday.

I learned a new thing!

I learned a new thing!

So although I can't imagine her ever going through the work that this sandwich requires for her entire family, it's possible she did. And if she did, it would have been on a Friday.

Sardines get a really bad rap, and I'm not gonna try to defend the canned ones, because tinned fish overall is a touchy subject. My mom is probably already so grossed out by this concept that she's already stopped reading, but hear me out on this one: there's a reason sardines persist in grocery stores, cartoons, and restaurant menus (at least in the UK), and it's because they're a relatively cheap but still totally delicious fish. The fact that they come in tins is sort of irrelevant, and it means you don't have to cook them, which is grand.

The weird thing is that this recipe is called 'Alpine Favourite,' when I'm pretty sure sardines live in saltwater and thus not particularly near the Alps.

Plus, I learned a new thing: how to sieve an egg yolk. It sounds like it would be simple, but since I only have one mesh strainer that's fairly large, it took a bit of getting used to. If you make this sandwich, to sieve the yolk, just hard-boil an egg until it's cooked all the way through-- no juicy yellow bit in the middle. For me, this was 8 minutes in boiling water, and then another 3 in the hot water left on the stove while I tended to other things. Peel your egg and cut it in half. Gently scoop out one yolk half at a time and place in the bottom of your strainer. Holding the strainer over the surface you want to cover in sieved egg and using the back of a spoon, press firmly but evenly on the yolk and let it sprinkle down onto the surface. Keep using smooth motions to press the entire yolk through until there is none left, then do the same thing with the other half of the yolk. Note that you can't really re-locate sieved egg once it's been sprinkled somewhere, so try to do it directly over the surface where you want it to be.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. The sandwich was just a little bit dry, but I'll fix that next time with a bit more mustard. Seriously, give this one a try. The flavours play off of each other beautifully, with the hard-boiled egg, mustard, and cornichon accenting the sardines just perfectly. Honestly, it reminded me of every meal I ate in Copenhagen when we were there a few years ago, and trust me, that's a good thing.

the recipe:

Alpine Favourite, or, Sardine Sandwiches

the ingredients:

2 slices bread
Spicy English Mustard
Leaf lettuce
2 slices Swiss cheese
2 cornichon pickles, sliced lengthwise
1 tin best-quality sardines
1 egg, hard-boiled

THE Directions:

Toast the bread.
Spread with mustard and lay a leaf or two of lettuce over it.
Add cheese (preferably sliced into triangles), cornichons, and 1 ½ sardines per sandwich.
Sieve the hard-boiled egg yolk over the open-faced sandwich, top with the other slice of toast, and enjoy.

Yields 2 open-faced sandwiches, perfect for dinner with a salad.