Today's linner began with what looks like an extremely austere soup. I put about one inch of water in a pan and brought it to boil with two bay leaves (because one seemed a very sad start), a squirt of lemon juice and several glugs of Tabasco. These were Coronavirus-related substitutions for the 1/8 of a lemon and 4 peppercorns called for. It sounds more like a scene from Grimm's Fairy Tales than the start of decadent recipe from New York Times Cooking, but this is how Sam Sifton begins his recipe with the equally austere title Cod Cakes.
Of course, this recipe is not really austere at all; rather, it is subtle. Sifton calls for poaching cod (or other white fish) in this most subtle of broths so that the flavor of the cod itself prevails.
At this point, I should back up and explain how I ended up poaching cod on this lovely afternoon. It started about a week ago, when our friend Andrea posted photos of cod cakes she was preparing with a family recipe. Since she is from New Bedford, where these things are decided, we took notice. We had everything needed for Cod Cakes a la Andrea, except for the salted cod, which she has been able to get at our favorite (really only) fishmonger -- place with customers in the front and boats in the back. The place is always sparkling clean, and has taken extraordinary public-health measures in the current pandemic, so I was comfortable heading over there yesterday afternoon. Alas! No salted cod was on hand. Andrea had suggested some alternate sources, but I decided to save those for another day; there must be a way to make cod cakes from fresh cod.
So I bought some VERY fresh cod and headed home to find a recipe. I pulled with the hefty volume Of Cod and Country from the cookbook cabinet, only to be reminded that author Barton Seaver is concerned mainly with reducing the use of cod, so his book is good for many things other than cooking cod. Turning to the interwebs, I of course landed on New York Times Cooking, and the fairly straightforward recipe I began describing above.
Once the fish was cooked through (that is, opaquely white), I removed it carefully to a plate to cool. I then minced onion and garlic (we lacked celery, so I added celery seed at a later stage). As I sauteed the aromatics, I crushed some croutons we had on hand, to substitute for the crackers or panko crumbs. I used a potato masher and a pastry cutter, alternating these ill-matched tools until I had something like bread crumbs.
I then placed the vegetables in a large bowl, while in a small bowl I mixed the eggs, mayo, mustard and Old Bay (some lesser seasonings are mentioned, but Old Bay is something we are never out of). All of this got mixed in a large bowl, along with the crumbs. Then I flaked the cod into the mix, preserving the structure as Sifton suggests. This became kind of a mushy mess, but I gathered it into balls as he indicates and managed to form some patties. I then followed his crucial advice of chilling these thoroughly. I can imagine they would not have held together had I tried to cook them right away. After more than an hour, I heated olive oil (we have no "neutral" oil like canola on hand) and cooked these up, covering one side in additional Old Bay for good measure.
I cooked these until quite crispy, and we enjoyed them with some leftover vegetarian lasagna roll-ups that Pam had made yesterday. Regular readers will understandably assume that we opened some Malbec for the occasion, but Pam suggested something a bit lighter that worked out very nicely: Farmer's Fizz from our friends at Westport Rivers.
We thank Andrea for starting us on the path of making cod cakes at home for the first time, and we look forward to trying her recipe next time!
Lagniappe
This very legitimate cod purchase took place a few feet away from the dock where the feds continue to impound a remnant of the fleet of the infamous Cod Father.
Do the crime and your boats will do the time. |
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