Filleting the Stein way
When Caterer asked me if I'd be interested in going down to Padstow to attend a new fish filleting class at Rick Stein's Padstow Seafood School, I have to admit that "excited" wasn't a word I would have used to describe my reaction.
Fishing is a fantastic hobby - one that I've done plenty of back in New Zealand - and cooking fish plays a major part in my career. But filleting fish? It's not many people's idea of a fun thing to do on your day off. However, I'm someone who's always looking for an excuse to be nearer the sea, so I said yes - which turned out to be a good move.
Padstow is a lovely fishing and residential village that benefits from a huge tourism boom in the summer. Unfortunately, it fights a continual battle against the ocean and the silt. The silt clogs up the harbour and has to be continually dredged up, dumped into lorries and carted away in order to keep the harbour working. This I know, as the school looks out on to the harbour, the trucks and the gorgeous water.
Stein owns a variety of restaurants and caf‚s in Padstow, as well as rooms you can sleep in, a bakery and deli - and, of course, the school. It turns out that there's a chef working in the Seafood Restaurant called Nick Jenkins, aka Nick the Fish. He's the best filleter around, and Roy Brett, the restaurant's executive chef, thought it would be a good idea for him to pass his skills on to professional chefs and keen amateurs alike. So the idea of the filleting class was born.
In a previous life, Jenkins was a commercial fisherman, and when you make your living from catching, landing and prepping fish for market, you soon learn that speed and no wastage is the bottom line. He's an entertaining and knowledgeable demonstrator, and you may already have seen his heavily tattooed arms and hands in Stein's books.
The school is run by "head teacher" Paul Sellars, head chef at the Seafood School, who is assisted by the school's sous chef, Mark Devonshire. Both men are terrific at making the class run smoothly, and Sellars passes on information like he's been doing this for years - which he has. He's been with Stein for almost 15 years and when he says "we", as in "we do it this way", you know who he's talking about.
The one disappointment with the class, I found, was the knives. They're not kept razor-sharp, as they're often in the hands of non-professional chefs. So if you decide, after reading this, to do the course or send one of your brigade down to Cornwall, please make sure you take your own knives with you. The class will be somewhat easier and smoother. A word of warning, though: if you're flying down to Newquay, as I did, don't expect to be able to take your knives on board as hand luggage. You'll have to put them in the hold.
There were 14 "students" on my course. We started the day by drinking espresso and tea at the large communal table overlooking the harbour. Sellars gave us a brief run-through of the day's agenda and answered a few questions; then we moved to the demo hob and the class began.
First up was a demonstration of filleting flatfish, starting with plaice. We learnt how to take the top and bottom fillets off together or as four separate ones, skin on and skin off. He then showed us how to skin a Dover. We split up into groups of two, taking our whole plaice with us, and did our best - making goujons, which we cooked and ate.
You work individually on your fish but, inevitably, help each other cook it. My bench-mate was Edmund Hall - also known as Des - a young chef from one of Stein's restaurants who, surprisingly, hadn't prepped many fish in his few years as a chef. This really brought home to me the fact that so many kitchens, the Providores included, rely on getting in prepped fish.
I know in our case it's because we have limited space and limited time to get it done. We sell a variety of fish on our menus, as well as more than 350 scallops a week, so the space required to store it, the bench space needed to prep it, and the subsequent wastage created become a headache. I can fillet fish really well and I'm a mean hand with a scallop and the like, but as the day wore on I realised that this was a first for so many others attending.
Among my classmates were a variety of people with a variety of needs. There were five professional chefs, myself included; and there was a woman whose husband was a fisherman who wanted to learn new skills because of low fish prices, so that she and her husband could add value to their catch by offering a filleting service. Their plans included having a trailer built and establishing a retail outlet near Chichester selling filleted fish directly from their boat to the locals.
There were also two keen anglers, who tended to butcher their catch and wanted to learn skills so as to be able to show off fillets of sea bass rather than a pur‚e; plus a caterer, who had recently relocated to Cornwall from Leeds and wanted to be able to buy the best local fish and do it justice; as did a retired chef, who wanted to improve his skills. Two people who had received gift vouchers and two foodie home cooks keen to learn new skills completed the gang.
Goujons eaten, we returned to the hob; and Sellars cooked the Dover, then showed us how to fillet it at the table, lamenting the passing of gu‚ridon service from days of old. We learnt how to fillet a mackerel and make a delicious dish called mackerel recheado, with a lovely Goan spiced curry paste that we baked inside the fish.
The class then settled into a routine of Jenkins and Sellars showing us how to fillet, and often cook, various fish, before getting us to do it ourselves. The variety of fish that we handled or had demonstrated to us was vast. Someone quietly commented that we should be filleting all of the fish, not just watching with the more expensive ones - but, realistically, the cost of the class would have to double at least in order to facilitate this. We watched Sellars deal with conger eel, monkfish, hake, cod, pollock, bream and quite a few others, and for some of these a volunteer was asked to step forward and try their hand.
As lunchtime approached, we filleted and cooked a John Dory, which we then served with a potato, olive and caper salad and sat down to eat with a glass or two of wine. It gave us a chance to review the morning's class. Most people were pleased with their understanding of the techniques that were taught, and the point was made that filleting isn't so difficult, but just takes practice and patience for you to gain proficiency.
After lunch we returned to the hob to learn about shellfish - and the way that they're so often overcooked or badly prepped. We dealt with large crabs, lobsters, razor clams, oysters, scallops, whelks and the like. We learnt how best to kill a crayfish and a crab; how to open oysters without losing their juice; and how to remove the muck from scallops. The day ended with a huge platter of fruits de mer, a glass of Champagne and a certificate.
Would I recommend this course to chefs? Yes. For the quality of the seafood alone it was well worth it. If you can't fillet a fish - or can, but only so-so - then definitely go. If you're ace with a filleting knife, then go only if you want a good day out at the sea, eating first-rate fish.
The highlights for me were taking the head, guts and skin off a gurnard in almost one movement. Gurnard is a popular fish in New Zealand, but Jenkins's technique will soon be in the hands of my father, Bruce. I learnt a good trick with scallops; how to make pin-boning salmon quicker (a flick of the wrist); the best way to take the skin off skate; and much more.
I learnt plenty, I had fun, I ate heaps. The teachers were great and the view brilliant, and if you have the time, spend an extra day down there and see the town. n
The Professional Fish Filleting course costs £155 per day. The next fish filleting course takes place at Padstow Seafood School on 21 April, but there are also ones in June, September, October and December. For further details, go to www.rickstein.com or telephone 01841 532700.
