Posts Tagged prawn
“I am always nice when I want duck”
So says my friend from the other side of the world
I went back to Brisbane last weekend and the entree was a prawn soup.
8 large prawns peeled, shells and heads reserved
1 diced onion
2 lemon grass, bruised
5 kaffir lime leaves
1 lemon
200 ml cream
On a heavy based saucepan, cook the shells with 2 table spoons of a neutral oil like grape seed. Stir constantly to avoid burning. Deglaze with water (or vegetable stock) until the shells are covered. Add the lemon grass, onions and lime leaves. Simmer for another 20 minutes, occasionally stiring and bashing the prawn heads. Strain liquid and return to pot.
Heat up another pan and cook the prawns with a little oil and salt.
Gently boil the soup and add the cream then the juice of 1 lemon to taste. You can thicken the soup with a light roux if you want.
Serve in small ramikins with one prawn each. Garnich with a parsley leaf or very finely slices lime leaves.
Sacre Cordon Bleu – What the French Know About Cooking
What the French know about stocks. Michael Booth, a travel writer and journalist decided that he had enough of writing about chefs, restaurants and food. He takes his wife and young kids to Paris and joins the famous cook school Le Cordon Bleu. There he learns the exciting, tedious and at times bizzare ways of French cooking. Surrounded by food loving students from all over the world (many from Japan) and the local culture, isn’t that the ultimate foodie’s dream? Read the book!
OK, I admit I am a bit biased towards that area of the world. I have my own dreams. But at least when I take a year off, I can combine a bit of hospital work in a less developed country for a few months and then join the cook school in Paris. How long for? Last time I checked the tuition fees, I almost clogged off my well-buttered arteries.
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“It is to the production of perfect stocks that the sauce cook should devote himself” – Auguste Escoffier
Tedious as they are, stocks are the fundementals of French cooking. But once you have tasted a velvety sauce burting with flavour and joyfully married to the main ingredient on the plate you know all that sweat was not wasted. You just wish someone could some to taste it rather than trying to explain it all over again with words.
Serves 2. Prep time 45 minutes. Clean up, none if you are cooking for a friend.
- 350g raw prawns, peeled, heads reserved
- 100g scallops
- 1 shallot, finely diced
- 1 carrot, half finely diced, the othe other half sliced into ribbons with a fuit peeler
- Half a baby fennel, thinly sliced, a few green fronds reserved
- A few parsley stalks, finely diced (Michael observes that chefs prize this often binned ingredient)
- 100 m of cream
- a table spoon of butter
- half a lime + a wedge
Heat a heavy based pan with some grape seed oil until hot. Add the prawn heads in and fry until the heads turn to bright orange and continue on low heat for 5 minutes. Don’t let it burn. Add the finely diced shallot, carrot and parsley stalks and fry for another few minutes. Add water (around 300 ml) until heads are just covered and simmer for 20 minutes, occasionally letting out some steam by bashing the heads with a wooden spoon. Strain the resulting liquid and discard the solids. Replace the liquid and gently reduce in a pan by a third.
While reducing, heat up a wide, non-stick pan with a little oil and cook the prawns and scallops quickly under high heat. They should sizzle and not boil. Once ready and coloured, add some finely ground pepper and take them off the pan and into a warm bowl. Re-heat the pan and cook the carrot and fennel ribbons until soft.
Add butter and cream into the stock and dissolve. Add the juice of half a lime and then suck the lime after you squeeze it. It taste good. You should not need any salt.
To serve: place most of the carrot and fennel on the bottom of the plate, add the seafood and top with remaining carrots and fennel. Pour the sauce around the side of the plate. Finish with a spinkle of fennel fronds and a wedge of lime.