Scuttled by the cuttle, but cooking settles the score

It’s a tough life, staring out at the ocean, trying to decide if you have enough energy to saunter out to the jetty and throw a line.

An early morning reccy revealed at least two other punters had been rewarded a small squid each.

The friendly banter between the truly novice fisherwoman and another newish chum (by his own admission) had us all laughing as she grizzled about the small ray that had taken her squid jig moments earlier.

He quickly retorted by saying the ray would have difficulty passing the jig. (Let me hastily add, no-one wants to see creatures harmed by such occurrences, but it’s a jungle out there in the aqua green waters of Rapid Bay).

Not being a fisherwoman myself, I can only dream of the exquisite experience it must be to catch your own fresh fish, be it whiting, flathead, squid, or if venturing further out in a small boat, for plate-sized snapper, cutely known as “pinkies”, or the fighting mackerel, cleaning your catch and then cooking it.

Fish that is so fresh, and if on a camping trip, perhaps cooked over coals in a small campfire, must just be the ultimate meal.

So unless I take a crash course in the art of nautical knots, then this experience will remain just a “dream” for me.

The squid jig does at least offer me a fairly simple method of at least having a go – and I did so the following day, without any luck.

Meantime my local fishmonger Jimmy never fails to have on offer all manner of marvellously fresh manna from the seas.

We often chat about what fish is really extra special and share cooking tips and recipes not only with each other, but usually including the other customers waiting their turn to be served.

This “fish-hunting-gathering” expedition may not involve the time it takes to go out there and catch your own bounty, but hey, it still involves a bit of well-spent time with likeminded folk who simply love to eat well.

I look forward to the day when I proudly reel in my own squid, and like other fisherfolk on this jetty before me, leave a trademark black tag of squid ink on the concrete slabs.

Meantime, whether you have successfully caught or bought your squid, the decision then is how to cook it well.

There are a squillion recipes that include crumbing and deep frying, or battered and fried, pickled, barbecued and even baked.

One simple rule applies when cooking squid or calamari – you either cook it very slowly (baked) otherwise the method of cooking should be very, very fast!

I recall sharing a favourite recipe in this column some time ago, for baking a squid tube stuffed with a rice filling.

Essentially you make a risotto with some lemon zest, semi-dried tomatoes, garlic, parsley and fill the squid tube with the risotto, place into a baking dish with a good slurp of white wine, some EVOO and a tin of crushed tomatoes and bake, covered at 160C for 40 minutes.

Served with a simple green salad and good, crusty bread this makes a delicious dinner any time of the year.

Tenderness and calamari are indeed words that can sit comfortably in the same sentence, as long as you prepare the flesh first by scoring it in a criss-cross pattern on both sides of the flesh.

Begin by slitting the tube down one side to open out the whole tube then, using a very sharp knife (a 20-centimetre chef’s knife works best), make a long, very shallow incision across the entire surface in one direction.

Then go back over it again to cross the first row of cuts, which should only be about two millimetres apart. Repeat this process on the other side.

The recipe here tricks up the flavour of the calamari, but in essence, once you have prepared the squid with these tiny cuts, you can use any flavours or recipes you like (the popular “salt and pepper” squid for instance).

So I hope you have a skilled fisher person in your orbit, or at least a great fishmonger, to provide you with fresh squid for supper this weekend! At Easter, seafood is usually a must on the menu.