Cathy Erway is putting me to shame. I’m reading her book, The Art of Eating In: How I Learned to Stop Spending and Love the Stove, and am feeling daunted by the culinary goal she set for herself. For two years she swore off eating food from restaurants of any kind, choosing instead to explore her fascination with all things foodie. In the course she became not only an inventive gourmet cook, but also the author of the popular blog Not Eating Out in New York, as well as a fixture/celebrity in the (Brooklyn-based) food, cook-off, and underground supper club scene. And I say: “Good for her!” (through teeth only minimally clenched with envy).
Restaurant eating at the right places is money well spent, in my book. It’s the crappy takeout that I mind, and we do that way too often, mostly out of sheer exhaustion but also lack of foresight. But lately there’s another rung of guilt on the ladder to the imaginary house I will never afford, namely that if you aren’t careful about what you buy and where you buy it, cooking at home can be more expensive than ordering takeout. Food prices have shot way up (“no, really?”), and after a day of work usually cooking for someone else, I have a tendency to go for the quick-to-prepare, simple cuts of meat like steak or chops.
In light of all this, and imminent taxes pressing on my peace of mind like an unripe piece of fruit, I’m committing myself to cooking dinner every night we’re home for the next month. That means cheaper cuts of meat, which though more time consuming, are often just as, if not more, satisfying than the pricier ones. It also means making several meals out of one protein—a chicken, say—and using up every little bit of it, even the bones. Time to go back to Sunday cooking, i.e. slow food: stews, roasts, soups, and braises that’ll feed us through the week.
Our first few meals will come from a whole fish. I know slicing up something with a face might unnerve a lot of folks, but it can be a meaningful exercise in re-connecting with where our food comes from, an easy enough lapse in the age of Van de kamps. If the spirit of the thing doesn’t appeal, perhaps the savings will; you get much more value for the dollar when you fillet your own, and the Cracker Jack prize is the lovely set of bones from which to make a fragrant fish stock, and any number of soups or sauces. Rick Moonen and Roy Finamore’s Fish Without a Doubt, is one of the best cookbooks out there on the subject of fish and seafood, is dedicated to sustainability, and has a clear description and series of photos detailing how to filet fish, both flat and round.
For our first meal I break down a striped bass that I bought for less than $10, and rub half the fillets with some salt, pepper, and a little hot Chinese mustard powder, sauté them in a bit of olive oil and a tiny bit of butter, and squeeze the better part of a lemon into the pan. I serve them on a bed of basmati rice mixed with frozen peas (the only frozen vegetable I endorse). A little green salad with shallot vinaigrette on the side and we’re in business. While the rice is cooking, I start the fish stock which is an easy one, done in 20 minutes, and uses up some leftover vegetable trimmings I keep in the freezer for just this purpose. Tomorrow I plan on making fish cakes out of the remaining fish, binding them with some leftover mashed potatoes from the other night, and whizzed up dry bread and garlic for a crunchy coating. I’ll make a quick aioli and add lemon zest, fresh herbs or sriracha chili paste for some heat.
The trick, I think, is to avoid chronic leftover syndrome by putting one of the three uses into the meal bank—in this case the fish stock and maybe a little of the fish will get frozen—for future use. With them I can make a fish chowder, or maybe a seafood potpie, although I’d have to cheat a little and throw in some shrimps and maybe some clams or mussles, but just a few, so that doesn’t really count, does it? I’m not a monk for heaven’s sake.
Here’s the recipe for fish stock. Next time you clean shrimp save the shells and freeze them—the addition of their flavor will take your stock up to an eleven. Cause it’s one tastier, innit? Yeah, that’s right, a Spinal Tap, reference. There’s such a fine line between stupid and clever.
Fish Stock
Yields 10 cups
- 2 lbs of fish bones from white fleshed, non-oily fish such as sole, bass, flounder, or turbot
- Shrimp shells (optional)
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 4-5 ounces leeks, sliced thin
- 2-3 ounces onions, sliced thin
- ¾ cup white wine
- 10 cups of cold water
- Bouquet garni
Rinse fish bones several times in cold water. Chop them into 4-5 pieces. Melt the butter in the stockpot, and sauté the vegetables until soft without letting them turn brown. You can also add mushroom or tomato trimmings, as well. Add the wine, water, and a bouquet garni. Bring to a simmer and skim well. Cook at a low simmer for 20-30 minutes.
Ladle the stock through a cheesecloth lined strainer into a clean container. Cool down and use immediately, or freeze for future use.
What ideas do you have for making 3 meals out of one chicken, pork shoulder, or beef roast?
Although Carolyn Grifel has been cooking, baking, and devouring cookbooks since she was old enough to read, it took her four decades to finally devote herself to professional cooking. She received a degree from The French Culinary Institute in 2009, while working at Epicurious.com. Since graduating she’s been a chef for Sweet Deliverance, as well as the executive chef at the historic TA Ranch in Buffalo, Wyoming. She’s currently a private chef for a family of five in NYC, and the enchanted mother of a 9-year-old named Stella.
