
Chef Thomas
Anglesey Eggs
Eggs bedded into leek-flecked mash under a blanket of sharp cheese sauce, baked until golden and bubbling. A Welsh supper dish that proves the simplest things are usually the best.
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Created by Chef Thomas
Salmon and potato fishcakes, golden and crisp on the outside and soft within, scented with dill and lemon, the kind of supper you can shape in the morning and fry when you walk through the door.
The kitchen smells of dill. That clean, slightly grassy warmth that hits you the moment you chop it, somewhere between fennel and fresh air. It's a Tuesday, the potatoes are draining in the colander, and a piece of salmon is cooling on the side. We're making fishcakes.
This is the kind of cooking I come back to when the week needs something uncomplicated but satisfying. Not fancy. Not difficult. A fishcake is just good fish, good potato, and something green and fragrant to tie them together. The dill does that. It lifts the salmon without competing with it, and with a scrape of lemon zest and a touch of mustard, the whole thing wakes up. Shape them, crumb them, fry them golden. There are few better feelings than putting a warm plate of these in front of someone.
You can make the mixture in the morning and leave it in the fridge until you're ready to cook. In fact, they're better for it. Cold fishcakes hold their shape in the pan and fry more evenly. I wrote it down in the notebook once: "Shaped at eight, fried at seven. Best ones yet." A recipe is a conversation, not a contract, and this one is a good, easy one to have.
Quantity
400g
skin on
Quantity
500g
peeled and cut into chunks (Maris Piper or King Edward)
Quantity
1
beaten, for the mixture
Quantity
small bunch
finely chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1
zested
Quantity
2
finely sliced
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
75g
for dusting
Quantity
1
beaten, for coating
Quantity
100g
Quantity
30g
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| salmon filletskin on | 400g |
| floury potatoespeeled and cut into chunks (Maris Piper or King Edward) | 500g |
| large eggbeaten, for the mixture | 1 |
| fresh dillfinely chopped | small bunch |
| Dijon mustard | 1 tablespoon |
| lemonzested | 1 |
| spring onionsfinely sliced | 2 |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| plain flourfor dusting | 75g |
| large eggbeaten, for coating | 1 |
| fresh breadcrumbs | 100g |
| unsalted butter | 30g |
| light olive oil or groundnut oil | 2 tablespoons |
| lemon wedges (optional) | to serve |
Bring a wide pan of water to a gentle simmer. Not a rolling boil. You want the surface barely trembling. Slide the salmon in, skin side down, and let it cook for eight to ten minutes until the flesh has turned from translucent to opaque and flakes easily when you press it with a fork. Lift it out and set it on a plate to cool. Don't rush this. Warm salmon breaks into better, more generous flakes than cold.
While the salmon cools, boil the potatoes in well-salted water until they're completely tender, fifteen to twenty minutes. Drain them thoroughly and let them steam dry in the colander for a minute or two. Mash them by hand. You want them smooth but not overworked, and absolutely dry. A wet mash makes fishcakes that fall apart in the pan, and there are few things more disheartening than watching your supper disintegrate.
Peel the skin from the salmon and discard it. Flake the fish into the mashed potato in large, rough pieces. You want to see the salmon in the finished fishcake, not blend it into uniformity. Add the beaten egg, the dill, the mustard, the lemon zest, and the spring onions. Season well with salt and pepper. Fold it together gently with a fork. Taste a small pinch of the mixture. Adjust the seasoning now, while you can still do something about it.
Divide the mixture into eight and shape each portion into a round cake about two centimetres thick. Don't press too hard. A light hand makes a fishcake with a better texture, one that holds together but still feels tender when you cut into it. Set up three shallow dishes: flour in the first, beaten egg in the second, breadcrumbs in the third. Dust each fishcake in flour, dip it in egg, then press it gently into the breadcrumbs, turning to coat. Set them on a plate and put them in the fridge for at least twenty minutes to firm up.
Heat the butter and oil together in a large frying pan over a medium heat. When the butter foams and starts to calm, lay the fishcakes in, giving them space. Don't crowd the pan. Fry for four to five minutes on each side, adjusting the heat so the breadcrumbs turn a deep, even gold without burning. The sound should be a steady, contented sizzle, not an angry spit. When you turn them, be gentle. A fish slice and a quiet confidence are all you need.
Lift the fishcakes onto a warm plate lined with kitchen paper for a moment, then serve with lemon wedges and whatever green thing you have to hand. A simple salad of leaves dressed with lemon and olive oil. Some buttered peas. Watercress, if the market had it. Nothing complicated. The fishcake does the talking.
1 serving (about 265g)
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