Cooking Local Seafood in a Self-Catering Kitchen

Why Island Self-Catering Beats Eating Out

There is a particular pleasure in arriving at a rented cottage on a Hebridean or Cornish island, unpacking the bags, and realising that dinner depends entirely on what you can find within a few miles. Self-catering on an island is not a compromise on eating well — it is often the best possible way to eat. The fish is landed that morning, the village shop knows its suppliers by name, and your kitchen, however small, becomes part of the holiday rather than a chore attached to it.

The trick is not to fight the limitations of a rented kitchen. You will rarely have a full spice rack, a food processor or a fish kettle. What you will have is a hob, an oven, a frying pan, a saucepan, a sharp-ish knife and a grill. That is genuinely enough for excellent seafood, provided you keep things simple and let the ingredients do the work. Island cooking rewards restraint above technique.

Stocking the Pantry from the Village Shop

Before you think about fish, think about the shelf. A well-chosen pantry turns a single fillet into a proper meal, and island shops — often smaller than a city corner store — still carry the essentials you need if you shop with a plan rather than a list of fifty items.

Start with fat and acid, the two things that make plain seafood taste finished:

• Butter and a small bottle of olive oil — butter for shellfish and white fish, oil for searing and dressing.
• Lemons, or a bottle of good lemon juice if fresh ones look tired. Vinegar works too: cider or white wine vinegar is a fine substitute.
• Sea salt flakes and black peppercorns. Buy these rather than relying on whatever is in the cupboard.
• Garlic, an onion and a couple of shallots. They keep for the week and form the base of almost everything.
• Tinned tomatoes, a tin of butter beans or chickpeas, and a bag of rice or small potatoes.
• Fresh parsley if available, plus a jar of dried chilli flakes.

That basket costs very little and covers fish soups, tray bakes, pasta, grilled fillets and a chunky bean stew. If the shop has a deli counter, add a wedge of hard cheese and a loaf of bread. If it sells local cream, buy it — a splash of cream and a pinch of pepper is a sauce in itself.

Buying Fish on the Quay

Buying directly from the harbour, a fishermen's co-operative or a mobile fish van is one of the great joys of island travel. Go early, and go with an open mind rather than a fixed recipe. If the haddock is beautiful and the mackerel is gone, buy the haddock. Ask what came in overnight and let that decide your supper.

Look for clear eyes, bright red gills and flesh that springs back when pressed. A whole fish should smell of the sea, not of ammonia. If you are buying shellfish, make sure crabs and lobsters are heavy for their size and that mussels are closed — discard any that stay open after a tap. Ask the seller to gut and fillet for you; most will, and it saves wrestling with a slippery fish on a holiday kitchen worktop.

Buy a little more than you need. Cooked fish is excellent cold the next day, flaked into a salad or folded through rice with lemon and oil. Nothing on an island needs to be wasted.

Four Recipes That Suit Any Island Kitchen

Pan-fried fillets with butter and lemon. Dry the fillets thoroughly with kitchen paper — this matters more than anything else. Season both sides. Heat a heavy pan until it is genuinely hot, add a little oil, and lay the fish in skin-side down. Press it gently for ten seconds so the skin stays flat. Leave it alone for three to four minutes, turn once, add a knob of butter, a squeeze of lemon and a spoonful of capers if you have them, and baste for a minute. Rest it briefly. Serve with boiled potatoes and greens.

Mussels in a pot. Soften a chopped shallot and two cloves of garlic in butter, add a glass of white wine or cider, bring to a boil, tip in a kilo of cleaned mussels, cover and steam for four minutes. Shake the pan once. Discard any that remain shut. Add a spoonful of cream and plenty of parsley, and serve with bread to mop up the liquor.

Island fish stew. Fry an onion, a carrot and a stick of celery in oil, add garlic, a tin of tomatoes, a pinch of chilli and a glass of water or stock. Simmer for fifteen minutes, then add chunks of firm white fish and a handful of prawns or scallops. Cook for five minutes only. Finish with lemon zest and parsley. This is forgiving, feeds a crowd, and improves the next day.

Smoked fish and potato bake. Layer sliced cooked potatoes, flaked smoked haddock or mackerel, and a little cream or milk in a buttered dish. Season, dot with butter, and bake at 190C for twenty-five minutes until bubbling and golden at the edges. A handful of grated cheese on top is entirely acceptable.

Practical Kitchen Notes

A few habits make a rented kitchen behave far better than it has any right to.

• Bring a small knife and a peeler from home if you are driving. Rental knives are famously blunt.
• Check the oven before you trust it. Buy an oven thermometer or simply test with a slice of bread; many island cottages run hot or slow.
• Cook fish the day you buy it where you can, and freeze or eat within a day otherwise. Island fridges are often small, so buy in quantities you can actually store.
• Use the outdoor space. A disposable barbecue or a kettle grill on the patio turns a whole mackerel, dressed with oil, lemon and salt, into the best meal of the week.
• Keep it simple on the last night. Boil pasta, warm garlic and oil, flake in whatever fish is left, and add lemon. That is a proper end to a week by the sea.

Cook with what the island gives you, season properly, and resist the urge to complicate things. The reward is a holiday kitchen that smells of butter, lemon and the sea — and a very good reason to come back next year.