This week’s recipe is for barbecued whole sea trout with a sort of beurre blanc of smoked mussels, cucumber and samphire.
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“What do you actually do?”
The question was delivered at some considerable volume on a busy train platform as I hoisted a cool bag over one shoulder and a golf bag over the other, and it struck something of a nerve.
On the one hand I was literally on the way back from my London job as chef directeur for the 10 Cases group of restaurants, and felt the tone of the question implied I was some sort of flâneur, a boulevardier, a man without a purpose.
On the other hand, the golf bag didn’t entirely speak to a week of hard graft, and it’s conceivable I’d had a glass of wine at lunch (perks of the job).
At any rate, it’s a question I’m asked - like most people, though usually in less accusatory tones - quite often. And I’m never quite sure how to answer. “I work mostly in restaurants” is the stock response if the questioner doesn’t seem particularly interested in the reply and is just filling time.
The much longer answer is that since my own businesses, which I’d spent the last ten years trying to make a success of, went the way of Le Gavroche, Celeste at the Lanesborough, and Little Chef, I’ve been enjoying not having the almighty grim anxiety fest that is almost unavoidably entailed by operating a hospitality business in 2025.
So, I tell them, I do a couple of days each week with the 10 Cases and Baudry Greene crew in London. I do some writing - some writing? - yes some writing, about food, on Substack. No it’s not a blog. Please subscribe etc. etc. I do whatever I can to help on the family farm that doesn’t involve heavy machinery or any agricultural knowledge whatsoever. If I feel I’m losing them at this point I might mention that I run a quarterly supper club slash pop-up restaurant in an old cow byre.
The final curveball, which I tend not to mention, is that I also play in a band. The reason for my reticence, I suspect, is partly because it often leads to a much longer story, and one that I’ve told (and written about) enough times already, and in part because a dude approaching 40 who, to a cynical ear at least, has just spent 10 minutes telling you he basically doesn’t have a proper job, now telling you he is ‘in a band’, is too much to bear.
Which of course it shouldn’t be, because this is actually a proper band, with grown-up (if realistic) ambitions and a sense of purpose. Regular readers will remember us recording in Margate back in March. One of the tracks was premiered on Steve Lamacq’s show on BBC 6 Music last night and is now ‘out’, whatever that means in the post-digital age. But you can listen here if you like. And we’re going on tour, briefly, in October, and you can buy tickets tomorrow here if you want to see us old men play sad songs very loud.
It was just me and Nora on Sunday, Rosie and Thom being in Suffolk for a 40th. We spent a lazy morning chewing around the house and massacring wasps. So many wasps. Late morning I dumped Nora on the neighbours/my sister so she could go for a swim with her cousin and I could settle in for one of the great days of sport on the telly - Scottish Open, Lord’s test match, Wimbledon final.
I’d got overexcited by the daily WhatsApp from the fishmonger and had ordered a wild sea trout for lunch and a couple of kilos of velvet crab for a future date. The crabs arrived fully alive and half-conscious. I popped them in the freezer for a couple of hours to sedate them, then set to work dispatching them while Jasprit Bumrah set to work dispatching the England batters. These are the same crabs that are abundant on our shores, and that you will have scooped from the pier in a net, or carefully pulled from rock pools. They don’t have much white meat in them but have enough flavour to make up for it, and are ideal for soup. Recipe to follow at some point.
For the fish I channeled my inner Rick Stein, having discovered that I didn’t, in fact have any charcoal left. So I built a fire, wrapped the trout in a few layers of the Ripon Gazette (a couple more wouldn’t have hurt, as it turned out), dunked it in water for a bit, and cooked it directly on the embers. Worked beautifully.
The grace note was, though, a sort of beurre blanc plus consisting of leeks, celery and onion cooked very slowly in butter, with some cider and cider vinegar added and reduced, then smoked mussels, diced cucumber, samphire and more butter. Powerful kit.
Throw in a dill mayonnaise, a green bean and tomato salad, and a giant couscous, raw courgette and mint preparation, and you have a pretty perfect summer’s Sunday lunch. Rock and roll.
Barbecued Sea Trout & Smoked Mussel Beurre Blanc+
Nothing is idiot proof when it comes to cooking over fire, but speaking as an idiot, this seemed like a pretty good method. The only thing to bear in mind is that the fish, when cooked, is prone to falling apart when removed from the embers - so make sure it’s really well wrapped to ensure you can make like the kid in Free Willy and get that fish out safely.
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