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A Tale of Monkfish

Nathan Horner shares his cooking experience....

Post subjecting myself to what can only be described as quite literally an alarmingly forgettable

rack of lamb, which found itself served gestated in a thick cider cream sauce and misexecution,

the resulting penetrating throb of incompetence naturally inspired, as I’m sure it would for most

people, that I should go to the fish butchers or whatever it’s called and purchase a tail of

monkfish. The throb was further enhanced due to the confusion of dealing with kilos and paying

with cash at the fish mongers, however I went home to produce a dish that now in retrospect has

the title of ‘the best thing I have eaten this month… that I can remember’.

I began by frying some ginger, garlic and shallots in a little bit of olive oil, poured in a slightly more

than the appropriate amount of red wine, reduced, added single cream, lowered to a slightly less

than mild simmer and accidentally dropped in the monkfish, but not to worry. I allowed the

monkfish to poach in the liquid, and once the poaching had become the poached I dressed the

dish in some rose petals, which are potentially inedible and discovered I had created a perfectly

pink, perfectly cooked, possibly slightly toxic poached monkfish in red wine.

To be honest the phrase style over substance sprinted off the tongue like a violently required

verbal sorbet after eating, but the pretentiousness of using gimmicky rose petals and monkfish

instead of lobster because it’s cheaper gave it a memorable charm, much like an old 70’s Italian

car would; simple, looked good, made on the cheap, potentially dangerous, and doesn’t have any

lamb in it.


Words: Nathan Horner


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