The real thing

Our exquisite homegrown scallops are in season, so make the most of them.

It was the night seafood market that got me. There was the tackiness of the bright neon lights, the soft drizzle of falling rain, the bitterly cold air and the busy noise of a city that never seems to sleep. Then came the sight of piles of tiny fiery-red cooked lobsters, freshly shucked oysters ready for the grill and freshwater crabs enticingly waiting to go into the pot. Although my eyes watered with hunger, I was so staggered by the sheer filth that I could not bring myself to eat any of it.

For the past fortnight I have been in Shanghai, cooking on behalf of New Zealand Trade & Enterprise, showcasing our finest food and beverage exports, and it was by chance I found this neighbourhood market. There should be something virtuous about eating fresh seafood, but I was suspicious of eating anything from this dodgy street, as I felt I would be dicing with death. I thought it prudent to check first with someone who might know best.

My Shanghainese sous chef, with his happy, smiling face, warned me in stuttering “Chinglish” of the perils by simply stating I might die. All the seafood was farmed, he said, but you could not be sure of the safety or source. The small lobsters were full of worms and the oysters had to be cooked but would still be unsafe to eat. The crabs he could barely bring himself to talk about, instead using an emphatic wave of his arm to indicate the danger.

Back in New Zealand, the scallop season is in full swing, but I am suspicious – for different reasons – of eating roe-less scallops that seem too big, too firm, too bland and lacking any natural sweetness. Restaurants that usually take some pride in pointing out the provenance of their ingredients seem to make it awkward to find out where these scallops are from. Further investigation reveals they are, in fact, a frozen Atlantic import, but no one seems able to tell me its actual origin.

Provenance is not a bit of urban food snobbery; it does not make anything tastier or more special. It shows you the chefs are interested enough to find out where their ingredients have come from and are proud to tell you.

Restaurants that have latched onto this idea of provenance, and that put the locale or the name of the farm on their menus, owe it to us to be honest all the time, otherwise we may become cynical. The question is, why you would choose to serve an imported, nameless, source-less frozen product when our own exquisite scallops are in season. It makes no sense.

You get a lot of fennel from thinly ­slicing a fennel bulb, so you need only ­a couple for this salad, which makes a ­satisfying late-spring lunch.

SCALLOPS, WITLOOF AND FENNEL SALAD

24 scallops

2 fennel bulbs

salt

juice of 1 lemon

2 heads of witloof

4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Slice the scallops in half and place in a small bowl. Slice the fennel very thinly, saving the fronds, and add to the scallops. Season with salt and squeeze the lemon juice over the top. Stir together briefly and leave to marinate for an hour. Remove any imperfect leaves from the witloof and trim the bases. Thinly slice into matchsticks, then toss with the fennel. Spoon the oil through the salad. Add any saved chopped fennel fronds. Divide the salad between 4 plates and top with the scallops.

Enough for 4.

Creamy potato purée and plump scallops are a glorious combination of textures. For a great purée, use agria potatoes and lots of butter and milk – it’s worth it. Leftover purée can be refrigerated then pan-fried and eaten with a poached egg for breakfast.

Roasted Scallops with Pureed potatoes and Lemon Butter

24 scallops

2 tbsp unsalted butter

2-3 garlic cloves, finely chopped

salt

zest and juice of 1 lemon

Potatoes

800g mashing potatoes

250ml milk

150g unsalted butter

salt

Pierce the scallops as in the above recipe. Warm the butter in a frying pan, then add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes, ensuring it doesn’t colour. Add the scallops and fry quickly for 2-3 minutes until they plump up, then season with salt, lemon zest and juice.

Peel the potatoes and cut into quarters. Cook them in boiling salted water until fork-tender, then drain. Mash the potatoes in the saucepan over a low heat. Heat the milk and butter in a microwave until the butter has melted, then stir into the potatoes using a wooden spoon. Mix until smooth, season with salt, then divide the purée between 4 serving bowls and top with the scallops. Spoon the lemon butter over the top.

Enough for 4.

Tom Hayes’ heirloom radishes are up. First, the traditional red and white-tipped french breakfast followed by the crispy plum purples. I eat them with nothing more than Marlborough sea-salt flakes. Served with a dish of tarragon mayonnaise, they disappear before you can say “sublime”.

Scallop and Radish Salad with Tarragon Mayonnaise

24 scallops

2 tbsp unsalted butter

salt

juice of ½ lemon

salad

7 radishes

4 spring onions

flat-leaf parsley

2 tsp capers

olive oil

red wine vinegar

salt

mayonnaise

2 egg yolks

½ tsp dijon mustard

salt

150ml grapeseed oil

150ml olive oil

3 sprigs of tarragon, leaves chopped

juice of ½ a lemon

Pierce the scallops. Warm the butter in a frying pan, then quickly fry the scallops for 2-3 minutes until they plump up. Season with salt and lemon juice.

To make the salad, first wash the radishes, then cut into quarters. The leaves are okay to toss through the salad, so choose the best ones. Tip the radishes and leaves into a large bowl. Trim the spring onions and chop them into thin rings. Tear the parsley leaves into large pieces and toss everything together with the capers. Drizzle with a little oil and vinegar – you won’t need much because of the tarragon mayonnaise – then season with a little salt.

For the mayonnaise, place the egg yolks in the bowl of a food processor with the mustard and a pinch of salt. With the motor running slowly, pour in the oils, starting with just a few ­drops. You should end up with a thick mayonnaise. Blend in the tarragon leaves, stir in the lemon juice, then check the seasoning. I use the Florentine “Harry’s Bar” technique of thinning down the mayonnaise with a little chicken stock if it is too thick. Divide the salad between 4 plates, add the scallops and drizzle with the dressing.

Serves 4.