Attention, Citizens. Look to the horizon. The ocean is not just water. It is a larder. But it fights back. First. The Shellfish. The Prawn. The Langoustine. They wear pink armour. Peel them. Find the black vein in the back... and remove it. That is grit. That is sand. We do not eat sand. Cook gently in butter and milk, the simplest, lightest trick. And The Oyster. The Rock that breathes. It requires courage... Shuck it open with a special blade... Do not stab your hand. Squeeze the Lemon. Watch it shrink. It is alive. Tilt your head. Slide it down. Do not chew it like a cow chewing grass. Taste the brine. Swallow the sea. The Cephalopod. The Squid. The Calamari. Listen to me carefully. Squid allows only two temperatures. Flash fry... for seconds. Or slow stew... for hours. Anything in between... is rubber. If you serve me rubber... I will make you chew a tire. Score the flesh, a diamond pattern. Hot oil. Garlic and Parsley. And the secret? Garum. A dash of fish sauce. It amplifies the ocean. It wakes the ghost of the deep. The Fin Fish... Cod... and Haddock. The bones of the nation. If you batter it... the batter must be cold. Ice cold. The oil must be hot. Thermal shock creates the crunch. Serve it with Tartare Sauce. Make it yourself. Mayonnaise... Capers... Gherkins... Dill and Lemon zest. If you use the stuff from a jar... you are lazy. The Salmon. The King. Pan fried... Skin side down. Leave it alone. Do not poke it. Wait until the skin is glass... Crisp and Gold. If the skin is flabby... it is an insult to the fish... and to me. The Service. A wedge of lemon. Squeeze it with your hand shielding the fruit. Do not spray your neighbour in the eye. It is rude. Watch for bones. If you find one... remove it discreetly. Do not spit it out like a musket ball. Place it on the side of the plate. Respect the anatomy. Freshness is the only law. If it smells like the sea... eat. If it smells like old socks... retreat. Carry on.
