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  May 2007
   
  Carrying on from the Johnshaven experience, the big boy pictured was another fine specimen, this time from Staithes, Yorkshire. Not in the super heavyweight league, but almost, maybe a touch over a kilo. Not pictured are the unwitting velvet swimmer crabs that accompanied him in the plastic bag, one of whom sustained a fairly nasty penetrating crush injury through it's carapace from one of the mighty claws pictured. I did boil this guy in sea water, though I didn't add any more as per JG's recommendation. Did the sea water make a difference? Not sure, but it's quite a romantic notion, on a similar par to the flavour enhancing effect of a fine sea view.
Blue velvet Acquiring the velvet crabs caused quite a commotion, but at least one of the crab retrieval team had actually eaten the buggers, 'quite sweet'. Not having any idea what those Spaniards do with all these, I decided to go for an Indian style preparation, with a vague idea of emulating the fried swimmer crab shells we had at the Summit restaurant, Sydney. Firstly, the poor critters underwent a hemi-corporectomy with signor Cleaver between the eyes, ouch. Faced down in a puddle of hot oil and covered with foil until the upturned legs went red. At this point, I tossed them around a bit, and threw in a chopped chili, and some fennel seed. The former had the amusing affect of sending all kitchen inhabitants to the windows with paroxyms of coughing, one of whom ironically being a vegetarian chest physician. Not to mention the near oil fire we had when I put the heavily water laden lid dripping over the hot oil, doh. Sheer drama. Then two grated shallots and some ginger, swished around and turned out on a plate. The more fried bits of shell were certainly crunchy, and looking back  at the Summit restaurant, Sydney, I think the carapace shells were removed and deep fried. The meat extraction was a bit fiddly, but indeed, very sweet. The smaller ones you could just crunch all the fine bony plates. For a first effort, I have to say it was a corker. Just nan bread and tomato, shallot and tamarind  salad to accompany

 
Bunny Paradise

 

2 bunnies, or 1 rabbit

A few sprigs of fresh thyme

5 onions

1 clove garlic

1/4 pt yoghurt

oil (butter would be better)

 Well, actually it was bunny world, and guinea pig paradise, a trip I missed out on, but according to Alex, something of a letdown. If ones bunny soul is judged on the means of gastronomic devourment, then these bunnies would have been on St Peter Rabbit's guest list.

A bit of a bastardised Madhur Jaffrey recipe of chicken in yoghurt which surpisingly only involves onion, yoghurt, garlic and ginger. The latter I substitued for fresh thyme that my mum had brought from her garden. Rabbit seems particularly well suited to the punch of thyme, which often dominates more subtle ingredients.

It always takes a while to get your head around her recipes, and I sometimes wish that recipes would have a bit more pre-amble to let you know the gist of the thing. The gist was; rabbit pieces slow cooked with a yoghurt/ onion paste, served with fried onion. So, fry four onions (cut into rings), keep. Brown the meat with fresh thyme, keep. Blend (I grated) an onion, a clove of garlic. Mix with a little water, reduce in the pan, add a little yoghurt. Add the rabbit. Add 1/4 pint of yoghurt (pre-mixed with 6oz water), that's what she says, don't quibble. Stir in and simmer until tender. MJ states 20mins, but she kindly adjusted her recipes for non-Indian British chickens. These were free-range wild bunnies, so at least an hour. If liquid is still present then turn up the heat at the end to reduce this to a paste. Place the onions over the meat, cover and warm through. They were actually bunnies, much smaller than most rabbits I've cooked previously, less strong, and tender.

Served with plain rice, naan, mung bean dal and tomato, shallot and tamarind salad.
   
  This weekend has been one of the most deeply unpleasant gastronomic tortures ever. I have been cooking whilst nursing some evil viral attack which has gone for my most used body part, my tongue. Even running it over my teeth feels like pins pricking its surface. I have downed enough paracetomol this week to liquify a bulls liver, and then some ibuprofen. Shona's mum's difflam has meant tonight I have been able to eat, hurrah. Enough of the violins.

I had been really keen to do Madhur Jeffreys roast coconut Kerala sauce which she describes for crab, prawn or lobster, though she uses the abominable crab sticks- well, it was the seventies, if only she had phoned Mme. Grigson who outlines their origins from a Japanese delicacy to a factory by-product of ill repute. Maybe she didn't ever use them at all.

On the last day of our stay I met up with the crab man who had had a poor day, and offered the whole bucket for a fiver. There were so many we released two back to the wild, one being barely worth eating. So I boiled the rest up and up he A1 they went to North Berwick.

I had been trying to figure out a way of incorporating the brown meat into a dish and I think I succeeded. Basically, the kerala sauce a la MJ, with a few differences. Firstly I sweated shallots in butter with coriander powder and a little turmeric, not onions in oil, they always go better with sea food. I whizzed up the ginger and garlic, in with the shallots. The coconut cream I heated with the tamarind paste and some water, removing the seeds. All of this together with the brown crab meat and actually thinned with a little water it was so rich. To serve I browned some dessicated coconut in a frying pan and sprinkled on top. Some fresh coriander would have been good. Served with plain basmati rice, spicey potatoes and onion, mung beans and the crab claws/ thorax. Just fantastic.