Red Mullet. Not an Irish man's haircut in the early 90s. Rather the other red mullet which is apparently a delicious fish. I unfortunately have more experience with the hairstyle than the fish. And to my great disappointment it shall stay that way. I was not able to lay my hands on a red mullet....at least not the fish. Nigella has an answer for this problem; Bream. So that's what I went home with. I picked up a whole bream fish at the market and had them clean the fish for me with the head off please and thank you. However, when I got home the fish was not quite in the shape I was hoping for. I guess what I should have asked for is to have the fish filleted. This I will chalk up to my innocence and ignorance of what is involved in dismembering animals - which I'd like to keep that ignorance and innocence thank you very much. What I had on my hands was a headless gutless fish. A fish with quite a strong spine that I was not prepared to deal with. But I knew I'd have to get the bugger apart somehow and when faced with this task I was also faced with a childhood trauma. When I was very young, I'm not sure how old exactly, my father decided to show his youngest daughter how to clean a fish. A life lesson for certain. The only problem here is that my father's youngest daughter (me) is incredibly sensitive to animals being harmed in anyway shape or form. She tends to prefer watching humans be dismembered as opposed to animals. And, at around this same age, would cry for hours when a farmer struck a donkey in a Christmas claymation special titled "Nestor" (Nestor is the donkey that carries Mary to the stable in Bethlehem). So my father decides it's time to show me basic survival skills and that even in my innocent and sensitive state of mind, I should know how to clean a fish. I guess in the event I took off and was alone in the woods for days with no food source. So, things were going swimmingly in the beginning. We caught a fish (oooo how exciting!), we took the fish off the hook (not my favourite part) and, here's where we strayed from the normal routine I was accustomed to. Instead of throwing the fish back in the river my father pulled out a knife and sliced open the belly of the poor bugger. Then came the blood and guts, then came the tears. Ridiculous amounts of tears. I didn't eat fish after that until I was 16 years old. No joke. 16.
So with all this trauma in my back pocket I have to now fillet this fish. Lemme tell ya, it did not go well. I did not fillet this fish so much a butcher it up. After a few minutes I realized I would not be successful at this and just did what I could to salvage this dinner.
Filleting was the hardest part of the dinner. So if you can buy just a straight up fillet - do it. The rest of this meal prep is all about timing. Getting your pasta cooked and ready at the same time your sauce is ready for the pasta. And I'll tell you this is much easier to do if you prep all your ingredients ahead of time.
Taste wise this is alright but not fantastic. Because I'm bollocks at filleting a fish, we had a few bones to contend with but it was alright. This recipe will not make my top ten but if you want something a little different give it a try. It does have great visual appeal.
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