
Chef Joost
Gebakken Schol
A whole North Sea plaice, dusted with flour and fried in butter, is the Dutch weeknight fish at its plainest and best: crisp skin, sweet flesh, potatoes waiting.
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A whole white-fish fillet in beer batter, larger than kibbeling and kinder than fuss, the little tasty mouth of the fish stall, eaten with lemon while the quay wind does the seasoning.
By the quay, fried fish has its own clock. In Yerseke the boats decided mussels, yes, but the viskraam, the fish stall, decided appetite: paper wrapping darkening at the corners, lemon under your thumb, wind pressing at your coat. A lekkerbekje belongs to that weather. Not a restaurant dish, not a ceremony. A whole fillet from the North Sea world, given a coat and sent into hot oil until the outside is crisp and the fish inside still remembers the sea.
But let me tell you a secret: visitors learn kibbeling first because pieces in a cone are easy to love, but the lekkerbekje is the fishmonger's fuller promise. The name already tells you, if you let Dutch be blunt. Lekker means tasty; bek is mouth, a homely, slightly rude word for it; -je makes it small. A little tasty mouth, and also the person who cannot walk past the stall without stopping. The grammar is not dignified. The fish is better for it.
Older cooks often used wijting, whiting, the modest fish that never hired a publicist. Today cod, haddock, pollock, or hake may stand in, provided the fillet is fresh, firm, and not cut too thick. The method asks for less cleverness than discipline: dry fish, cold beer batter, oil hot enough to seal the coat before the fish overcooks. Beer is not there to make the dish fashionable; it gives bubbles and a faint malt bitterness, then gets out of the way.
Hou het altijd simpel, always keep it simple. Make the sauce first, fry in small batches, salt the fillet as it leaves the oil, and eat it while the crust still crackles under the fork. Bread, chips, or nothing but lemon, I won't quarrel. History and cookery, they cannot be separated, but dinner still needs to land on the table before everyone starts asking learned questions with empty plates.
Lekkerbekje belongs to the Dutch viskraam, the market and harbour fish stall, rather than to a named restaurant or province; ports such as Scheveningen and IJmuiden, which grew after the North Sea Canal opened in 1876, supplied the white fish for this quick fried meal. Older fishmongers often made it with wijting, whiting, a modest North Sea fish, while cod, haddock, pollock, and hake became common as prices and stocks changed. The practical distinction from kibbeling is still the one worth remembering: kibbeling is battered pieces, once associated with cod trimmings and cheeks, while lekkerbekje is a whole fillet fried to order.
Quantity
4 fillets, 150-180g each
skinless and pin-boned
Quantity
1 teaspoon
divided
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
125g
Quantity
25g
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 large
beaten
Quantity
200ml
Quantity
1.5 liters
Quantity
1
cut into wedges
Quantity
120g
Quantity
2 small
finely chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
rinsed and chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
finely chopped
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| white fish filletsskinless and pin-boned | 4 fillets, 150-180g each |
| fine sea saltdivided | 1 teaspoon |
| ground white pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| all-purpose flour for dusting | 2 tablespoons |
| all-purpose flour for batter | 125g |
| cornstarch or potato starch | 25g |
| baking powder | 1 teaspoon |
| eggbeaten | 1 large |
| cold Dutch pilsner or pale lager | 200ml |
| neutral frying oil | 1.5 liters |
| lemoncut into wedges | 1 |
| mayonnaise | 120g |
| augurken or gherkinsfinely chopped | 2 small |
| capersrinsed and chopped | 1 tablespoon |
| flat-leaf parsley or chivesfinely chopped | 1 tablespoon |
| mustard | 1 teaspoon |
| lemon juice | 1 teaspoon |
Run your fingers along the fillets and pull out any pin bones. Pat the fish very dry, then sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon of the salt and the white pepper. Set the fillets on a rack in the refrigerator for ten minutes while you make the sauce. The salt seasons and tightens the surface; the drying matters because wet fish throws off batter like a bad coat.
Stir the mayonnaise, chopped augurken, capers, parsley or chives, mustard, and lemon juice together in a small bowl. Taste it. It should be sharp enough to wake the fried fish, not sweet enough to taste like picnic salad. Keep it cold until serving.
Pour the oil into a heavy pot or deep pan to a depth of about 5cm, making sure the pot is no more than half full. Heat to 175C and set a wire rack over a tray beside the stove. No thermometer? A drop of batter should sink briefly, rise with lively bubbles, and turn golden without browning at once.
Whisk the 125g flour, starch, baking powder, and remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt in a bowl. Beat the egg into the cold beer, then whisk this into the dry mixture until it looks like thick cream. A few lumps are welcome. If it runs like milk, add a spoonful of flour; if it sits heavily on the whisk, add a splash more beer.
Put the 2 tablespoons flour on a plate. Dust each fillet lightly on both sides and shake off every excess bit, because loose flour burns. Pull one fillet through the batter, let the extra drip back into the bowl, and lower it into the oil away from you. You want a thin coat, not a duvet.
Fry one or two fillets at a time, depending on the size of your pan, for 2 to 3 minutes per side, 4 to 6 minutes total. Turn once, gently. The batter should be deep golden with small ridges, and the fish should flake at the thickest point or read 63C in the centre. Let the oil return to 175C between batches; crowded oil makes tired fish.
Lift the fish to the rack and salt it lightly while the surface is still bright with oil. Serve at once with lemon wedges and ravigottesaus. Fries are welcome, brown bread is welcome, fingers are historically defensible. A lekkerbekje waits for no one, not even a professor who has found a footnote.
1 serving (about 255g)
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