Fish, Food from the Waters

1997 ed. Harlan Walker
book cover
300pp; 170x250mm; illus; paperback; 

ISBN 0907325 890 £25.00

A complete chapter by Helen J. Saberi on 'Fish in Afghanistan' is available for viewing

The annual volume of the proceedings of the Oxford Symposium, the longest-running colloquy on food and food history in the western world. The subject of this year's discussions was not just fish but the diet of fishermen, and any foodstuff that may be culled from the waters, such as seaweed. The result, as ever, is a collection of essays that ranges widely over the topic, exciting lateral speculation that can only benefit the study of food and foodways. 

Among the contributions are a piece on the diet of nineteenth-century whalers and whaling communities, several on fish in antiquity, including a study of fish consumption in Roman Britain, and an investigation of the lotus root. 

Participants to the Symposium are drawn from many countries, so the remit of the papers is much broader than Europe or Britain alone. The volume is uniform with preceding issues, and is fully illustrated in black and white. 



JOHN WILKINS

Fish on the plate and in the mind

Fish in a sense is a food like any other, eaten as a form of protein that provides essential nutrients and dietary variation from the standard fare of cereal, quadruped and vegetable. This paper investigates the ways in which fish is perceived to be different - in two cultures, modern Britain and ancient Greece. We consider first the consumption of fish in our own culture in order to prepare the ground for the more remote and ill-understood plates of early Greece.

Fish on the plate - The background

Fish represents a penitential substitute for meat, a meal with which to mortify the flesh rather than an alternative, equally prized. A celebration meal centring on fish rather than duckling or some large joint is almost unthinkable, a concept similar to that of a Salvationist's wedding feast at which the bride is toasted in tea or milk. This may partly be due to the idea that a large or imposing centrepiece is necessary to the status of the occasion - something akin to the consumption of swans and peacocks in days gone by.

The current metropolitan fad for fish as a healthy or less fattening option is part of the same spirit of self improvement through self denial and not an awakening to the joys of eating fish. In rural Shropshire a meal may contain fish and meat together, but a meal with only fish and vegetables is not a serious affair. Things take a little time to change in provincial England and it may be that - like a reverse mud skipper - the yeomen of England may yet take to food from the sea.

There is no logic to this of course and the meat's popularity at table may well lie in the comforting feel and smells of cooked animal fat during northern Europe's chilly winters. There are certainly not any problems of availability for fish. Logic in fact plays little part in our choices of food, and the very scarcity of wild fish stocks may give a kudos to the provision of fish at dinner parties that has historically been lacking in Britain. Cod and herring are going the way of the oyster in moving from poor man's fare to gourmet's delicacy. Bass and turbot have made the transition already - as prices will attest.

Food scares and further research may have long term effects on our eating habits. There is no guarantee that this will be total good news for fish consumers, for pollution in the seas and nasty practices in the fish farming trade have yet to be fully exposed in the media. On balance, however, the suspicion is that meat is the more contaminated of the two.

The absence of widespread hunger in northern Europe has set the stage for a fresh look at the wholesomeness of what we eat, an opportunity to choose from plenty that others do not have. Meat consumption may go the way of, say, cooking in lard, as tastes change and the fish at last moves centre stage for those grand occasions and special meals. The Greeks thought of it some time ago of course.

Fish on the plate - The practicalities

There is more variety in fish than meat. A vast range of edible species from oily mackerel to dry fleshed pike from which to choose - with fifty types in between. All this before considering the octopus and shellfish families, smoked fish like kippers or grocery items like preserved anchovies and sardines. Most fish are still "free range", wild creatures that have to be tracked down and caught, rather than farmed like a cash crop. So your choice at the fishmonger's slab will be from what's actually available and in peak condition.

Buying fish

The most sensible approach, from the cook's standpoint, is to choose a particular type of fish, maybe white fish or crustacea, and to shop flexibly within that category. With fish dishes that call for anything other than the most plentiful varieties, strict adherence to a recipe can be frustrating. Even commonplace fish may not represent decent value on the day. Should the instructions call for herring, for instance, and your shop have none, your calculation must be whether that particular fish was really central to the success of the dish or whether some alternative is possible. Of course, if the flavour of herring is essential, then only herring will do, but if the treatment uses herring on account of its oily texture and relatively cheap price, then mackerel may fit the bill just as well.

Unsurprisingly, fish is expensive. Apart from being an ever scarcer resource, it is a commodity that does not keep, neither improving with age like some meats nor freezing well. The resulting high cost, in comparison with cheap chicken and processed meat products, has already seen out the fishmonger from most shopping centres. Prices are not, in any case, purely dictated by supply and demand here - if so they would be cheaper - but by market prices across Europe. Trawlers that have been fishing off the coast of Spain or Iceland can as easily unload at Rotterdam or Zeebrugge if that is where their catch will fetch the best price. Similarly, quayside dealers at Brixham can tell you what is being paid for turbot in Billingsgate at an instant, and the price of sea bass in Milan only a fraction later. Bargains are rare.

Supermarkets are little help. They have not yet come to terms with the specific problems of selling fish. It is not a product that can be handled like corn flakes, and beyond the scope of their understanding that neither prices nor even supply can be guaranteed. It is a question of deciding on a daily basis what is good value and how long the fish will keep. At the moment, most supermarkets stick with farmed salmon and frozen prawns and on balance this is probably for the best until they learn better. If we accept that little or no advice worth having will come from the salesperson, then we must rely on the appearance of the fish on offer to decide what is best. There are comments in each recipe specific to whatever fish is being used. In general, they boil down to searching out those with firm flesh and sparkling shiny skin and avoiding limp, lifeless, or dry-looking specimens. Fish that has spent too long in the freezer will look tired and defeated, as if it had played on the losing side of a football match. Worse, any which have been frozen without first being carefully wrapped will probably be affected by freezer burn. This leaves tell-tale patches of whitened and dry flesh which unhappily translate into dry, almost inedible, texture when cooked.

Storing fish

The best advice is to buy what you need on the day that you need it. If this is not practical, there are one or two pitfalls to avoid. First, raw or smoked fish will taint sensitive products like eggs or butter if they are stored close by in the 'fridge. So put as much distance between them as possible and wrap the fish well. Second, always store uncooked fish - or meat - underneath, rather than above any foodstuffs which are either already cooked or else to be eaten raw - drips from the juices of raw fish or meat in your leftover curry or custard can lead to problems for the stomach and not just the palate. Third, the last water a fish should see, before cooking, is the stream or ocean from which it came. Water has the effect of drying out the flesh, leaving it less tender. Whilst you are unlikely to leave the fish in a sinkful of water, you may be inclined to pack ice cubes around - which melt - or leave your fish in the juices which seep out from it during any prolonged storage. Neither is a good idea.

Cleaning and filleting fish

The least and shortest contact with water is again, and for the same reasons, important whilst preparing and cleaning fish. The only exception would - naturally - be live creatures like mussels.

1: Begin by cutting off anything that protrudes from the fish, fins and suchlike.

2: Then scale it by scraping, the knife at right angles to the fish, from tail to head.

3: Slit the belly and take out the innards. This is not a job for the squeamish and on large fish such as salmon or bass will be quite messy. Use a little salt to dislodge any blood that insists sticking to the backbone.

4: Rinse in cold water, then dry thoroughly with a napkin or some kitchen roll.

If you are going to cook the fish on the bone, this is as much as you need do. If you intend skinning and filleting then proceed as follows.

flat fish

Skin the fish first. Make a cut across the tail - below the point where the meat ends - in order to sever the skin. Do not cut the tail right off. Raise a corner of the skin away from the bone, grasp it tightly between thumb and forefinger, then pull the whole skin back and away from the flesh. With luck it will come away in one movement. Repeat the operation on the other side. As you pull away the skin with your right hand, keep the fish firmly in place by holding the carcass steady with your left.

1: Move your finger along the centre of each side from head to tail. The bone dividing the fish into two fillets per side will be quite obvious.

2: Cut downwards along this line, sliding the knife under the fillets and across to the side. The framework of spinal bones at the centre will keep you from penetrating too deeply so keep your knife angled slightly downwards, away from the expensive fish flesh. Work from head to tail, easing the fillets off the bone. Do not worry over taking a long time, concentrate on producing cleanly cut fillets. As with all such operations, practice will crank up your speed.

Wash the bones for stock. Fish giblets from flat fish are, however, best put in the bin.

round fish

1: Cut off the head

2: Slit the belly and remove the innards

3: Lay the fish on its side then cut the skin along the spinal edge

4: Hold the fish steady with the flat of your hand then carefully cut away the fillet. Lift out the skeleton of spinal bone in one piece.

5: Use tweezers to pull out the line of small bones that run the length of each fillet.

The bones from round fish do not make stock as fine as that made from flat fish. The liver from fish like red mullet has its admirers, as has the roe from several other fish.

Cooking fish

One or two factors affect fish no matter which cooking method is used. Overcooking is the enemy. Even fish which is not technically cooked at all, marinated fish like gravad lax or ceviche, will suffer if left too long in the salt, lime juice, or whatever. Fish is delicate. Clumsy handling and sledgehammer cooking techniques are not appropriate. One of the most celebrated fish dishes, the bouillabaisse of Marseilles, can illustrate the problem - a dozen differing fish overcooking together to produce a wonderful flavour for the soup but little benfit for any of the individual ingredients. Any delicate cooking method will suit most fish. Steamed and poached fish need some sauce if they are not to taste bland. Deep fried fish can take lemon juice, vinegar, or some sharp relish like Tartare sauce. Your major concern, however, must be to cook the fish correctly - so that it is done, but not overdone - whatever the method.

Test whether the fish is cooked by pressing your finger - gently - against the thickest part in order to gauge "doneness". If there is the feeling of springiness, the impression of a rubber ball at the centre, then it needs to continue cooking. Whilst developing reliability in such matters, you are wise to test your judgement by cutting into a corner of the fish and comparing the reality of how cooked it may be against the impression you had formed. With very little practice the two will be identical. If you are cooking fish on the bone, you will discover that the flesh will part company with the bones only when completely done. Should you wish to deliberately undercook a piece of fish - salmon is fine at a medium rare stage - take it off the bone first.

Ancient fish of the mind

Ancient Greece is a place which no longer exists, ancient fish no longer exist except in a few fine bones dug up on archaeological sites. For a summary see Dalby (1995) 66-7. This section therefore builds on the thought of the first section - such as squeamishness and the cultural valuation of meat over fish - since evidence of ancient thought is plentiful, and assumes that cooking technique was similar to what we have outlined above, given the practicalities dictated by the physical structure of fish and the ancient advice on the cooking of fish which we have published in our edition of the cookery book of Archestratus (Wilkins and Hill 1994).

Fish for the ancients inhabited the sea, and rivers, but to a lesser extent in the Mediterranean than in the mighty rivers of northern Europe. "An element alien to humans, more frightening in ancient thought than modern". Purcell (1995). The sea was imagined to be a form of battle-ground, with humans and fish at war with each other, the reward of victory being to eat the vanquished. Fish were often `at war' with each other. Oppian in his sub-epic poem On Fishing illustrates the point:

`Among fishes neither justice is of any account nor is there any mercy or love, for all the fish that swim are bitter enemies to each other. The stronger ever devours the weaker; this against that swims fraught with doom and one for another furnishes food. Some overpower the weaker by force of jaws and strength; others have venemous mouths; others have spines wherewith to defend them with deadly blows.' (2.43-50, trans. Mair)

Dolphins are an exception, but they are exemplary fish and former humans. Oppian's words are notable for their combination of myth, scientific observation and the humanizing of the dolphin:

`Now all the viviparous denizens of the sea love and cherish their young but diviner than the dolphin is nothing yet created. For indeed they were aforetime men and lived in cities along with mortals, but by the devising of Dionysus they exchanged the land for the sea and put on the form of fishes; but even now the righteous spirit of men in them preserves human thoughts and human deeds. For when the twin offspring of their travail come into the light, straightaway, soon as they are born, they swim and gambol round their mother and enter within her teeth and linger in the maternal mouth; and she for her love suffers them and circles about her children gaily and exulting with great joy. And she gives them her breats, one to each, that they may suck the sweet milk ... What a marvel shalt though contemplate in thy heart and what sweet delight, when, on a voyage, watching when the wind is fair and the sea is calm, though shalt see the beautiful herds of dolphins, the desire of the sea; the young go before in a troop like youths unwed even as though they were going through the changing circle of a mazy dance.' (1.646- Mair)

Similar is the Grey Mullet which is also endowed with elements of human morality:

`The Grey Mullet I hear among all the fishes of the sea nurses the gentlest and most righteous mind. For only the kindly Grey Mullets harm neither one of their own kind nor any of another race. Nor do they touch with their lips fleshy food nor drink blood, but feed harmlessly ... either upon the green seaweed they feed on or on mere mud, and lick the bodies one of another. Wherefore also among fishes they have honourable regard and none harms their young brood, as they do that of others, but refrain the violence of their ravenous teeth.' (2.642-653 trans Mair)

The Greeks made a clear distinction between wild animals of land, sea and air, which were fair game for such `battles' and could be eaten whenever caught, and domesticated animals, whose slaughter was strictly regulated within the religious system. Before a cow, pig, sheep or goat could be eaten, part of it, in particular the parts believed to contain life, had to be offered to a god in a burnt offering. Fish and other wild animals were rarely sacrificed (Detienne and Vernant 1989). While we have emphasised this in the past, Wilkins and Hill (1994). the point should not be exaggerated. Other ancient cultures were more likely than the Greeks to place fish in the category of the sacred but the Greeks did so on interesting occasions. Greeks noted in particular the sacred fish of the Egyptians and the Syrians:

`eels are all considered sacred to the Nile' (Herodotus The Histories 2.72)

`They say the Egyptians are clever in other ways too, but especially in recognizing the eel as equal to the gods. In fact she is much higher prized than the gods. For merely by offering prayers we may reach the gods, but to get just a smell of eels we must spend at the least twelve drachmae or more.'

`I could not bring myself [a Greek] to be an ally of yours [Egyptians], for neither our manners nor our customs agree, but stand a long distance apart from each other. You worship the cow, but I sacrifice it to the gods. You hold the eel to be a mighty divinity, but we hold it to be by far the mightiest of dainties. You eat no pork but I like it very much ...' (Antiphanes the comic poet, Lycon fr. 145, Anaxandrides the comic poet, Cities fr. 40, quoted by Athenaeus 7.299e (trans. Gulick)

`Whenever [the Syrians] pray to the goddess, they bring her offerings of fish made of silver or gold; but the priests bring to the goddess every day real fish which they have fancily dressed and served on the table' (Mnaseas On Asia, quoted by Athenaeus 8.346e (trans. Gulick)

Among the Greeks themselves, Athenaeus reports (7.297e-298a) that fish were exceptionally incorporated into the sacred in offering the first of the tuna in a good year to Poseidon (at Halae in Attica) and in the foundation myth of Phaselis in Asia Minor. Fish appeared in the regulations of at least one Attic festival, the Haloa. Similar fish (the red mullet and `blacktail') were also included in the foods prohibited by the Pythagoreans, the religious counter-culture of the most prominent ancient vegetarians. Diogenes Laertius 8.19. This differs from some modern vegetarians who eat fish but not meat. For them, fish in some important respect appears to be classified as similar to plants (and suitable for consumption) but different from meat (which is unsuitable for consumption).

We have argued elsewhere Wilkins and Hill (1994) 21. See also Wilkins (1993) 192-3, Davidson (1997) 12.  that the general exclusion of fish from the sacred led to their inclusion in the discourse of luxury. While this appears to be the case, it should not be exaggerated. Nor do we subscribe to the calculations of Gallant (1984) on fish supplies in the ancient Aegean. Purcell (1995) is more sympathetic. Fish were not in notable short supply; the criteria for cost were, rather, seasonal and determined by place, and in particular by species. Squid and whitebait were not expensive, turbot and sea bass often were. Considerations here are perhaps comparable with modern Britain. Fish is perishable and quality fish is sold at a premium, hence qualifying in practical terms as a luxury, which can be extended further in ideological terms in texts - but only so far. Some texts proclaim the luxurious eating of fish - the very title of the poem of Archestratus, The Life of Luxury is a good example, and 49 of his 62 surviving fragments concern fish - but we do not think that catches of fish were denied to the general consumer unless supplies were for various reasons restricted or the consumer lived far from the sea. Wilkins (1993).

One area in which fish were not `luxurious' but `useful' (one of the oppositions in the discourse of luxury) was in medicine. The opposition between `useful' doctors and cooks as purveyors of luxury is explicitly made by Plato in his dialogue Gorgias. Doctors had comments to make on the efficacy of fish in the diet as they had on every other food. An example: Diphilus of Siphnos says in his book On Food for the Sick and the Healthy, `of salt-water fish, rock-fishes are easily digested, juicy and purgative but are light and offer little nourishment; those from the deep sea are harder to digest, very nourishing and hard to assimilate. Of the rock-fish, the phukes (forked hake?), male and female, are very tender small fish, without smell and easy to digest. The sea-perch is similar to them but differs slightly according to location. Gobies resemble the perch. ... The parrot fish (skaros) has tender flesh and is flaky, sweet, light, easy to digest and assimilate and is good on the bowels' (preserved by Athenaeus at 8.355b-c). The parrot fish is certanly a species that interests writers on luxurious eating such as Archestratus. We can say that definitions will vary according to context. That may appear a truism, but we should not consider that the literary constructions we find in literature such as the Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus or comedies can be directly mapped on to fish as they were eaten.

One last kind of evidence remains for consideration, the ancient fishplates such as the one providing the logo for this publication. Most of these plates are Athenian exports to the Black Sea or southern Italian production dating to the fourth century BC. Some thousand have been found. The majority appear to depict varieties of sea bream. Whether or not they were used as plates at mealtimes, some believe they were especially produced for funerary purposes: see N. Kunisch Griechische Fischteller (Berlin 1989). They depict marine life in the homes of diners who were eating fish. If they were used for eating from, then as the fish were consumed, more and more of the illustration could be seen, so that the fish might appear to replenish themselves on the plate. This visual game resembles the painting of drinking cups where various illusory effects were offered to the drinker such as images at the bottom of the cup or suggestions that boats are floating on the wine. See F. Lissarrague The Aesthetics of the Greek Banquet (trans. A. Szegedy-Maszak Princeton, New Jersey 1990). A representation of what the diner was putting in his or her mouth was available for the eye as a painted image. Fish were also used as decorative motifs on some vases and mixing bowls for wine, and (mostly later in the Roman period, and especially in north Africa) in floor mosaics. This is found in other cultures, but the lengths to which the Greek diner went to represent his or her food and drink is extraordinary. James Davidson would appear to be correct in writing in his recent Courtesans and Fishcakes of the mania of the Greeks for seafood.

It is, then, our contention that study of fish in these two different cultures, different in location, types of fish and date, demonstrates that practical considerations are important but not the whole story. People will eat fish or refuse to eat fish, as they eat or refuse to eat meat, for many reasons, some of them based on practical considerations and experience, some on cost. But they will also have a place for fish in their culture and in their view of the cosmos, of the relationship between god, humans and animals, and these considerations may encourage or discourage the consumption of a food which may be affordable and ready to hand but inappropriate or alternatively expensive but intensely desirable for some firmly-held reason.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Dalby A. (1995) Siren Feasts (London)

Davidson J. (1997) Courtesans and Fishcakes (London)

Gallant T. (1984) A Fisherman's Tale (Ghent)

Purcell N. (1995) `Eating Fish: the Paradoxes of Seafood' in Wilkins J., Harvey D., Dobson M. (eds) Food in Antiquity (Exeter) 132-149

McPhee I and Trendall A.D. Greek Red-figured Fish Plates (AntikeKunst Supplementary Volume 14, 1987)

Wilkins J. (1993) `Social Status and Fish in Greece and Rome' in Mars G. and Mars V. (eds) Food Culture and History I (London) 191-203

Wilkins J. and Hill S. (1994) Archestratus: The Life of Luxury (Totnes)


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