The ugly fish – monkfish’s delicious comeback

There is plenty of room to play with flavour. In Spanish kitchens, monkfish may be paired with paprika, garlic and shellfish stock; in French cooking, with saffron, tomato or cream too. Such combinations show the ingredient’s versatility, not that there is only one right way to season it. At home, a small selection of well-chosen flavours goes a long way. The sweetness of leeks, the saltiness of capers and the bright edge of lemon leave room for the fish itself.

A good monkfish fillet should smell fresh and mild, without a sharp whiff of ammonia or any sourness. The flesh should feel firm and be well chilled. Do not judge quality solely by how snowy-white it looks, though. Appearance varies with handling and trimming, and knowledgeable staff at the fish counter are worth more than the prettiest display.

Ask when the fish arrived and how to store it until dinner. Keep it cold on the journey home, put it in the coldest part of the fridge and ideally plan to cook it soon after buying. Frozen monkfish can work well too. Defrost it in the fridge, preferably on a rack over a dish so that it does not sit in the thawing liquid. Then dry the surface thoroughly.

Environmental questions call for the same curiosity. Monkfish is not an ingredient that can be given a permanent green or red light on the strength of its name alone. Stocks, catch area and fishing method all matter, and recommendations can change. Ask for the information on the label and check current guidance, such as WWF’s Fiskguiden seafood guide. Bottom trawling can affect seabed habitats and result in bycatch; other fishing methods also need to be assessed in context.

The price makes it wise to ask what the weight includes, too. A tail with its bone and membranes yields less food per kilo than a trimmed fillet. Our recipe uses fully trimmed fish, so the portion size is clear. Served with potatoes and plenty of vegetables, monkfish need not fill the whole plate to feel like the undisputed centrepiece of dinner.

Monkfish is a good choice when dinner should feel a little special but the kitchen should still feel like home. Its firm flesh makes portioning easy, and the accompaniments can be everyday ones. Boiled potatoes soak up the butter better than many elaborate garnishes. Leeks, so often relegated to a supporting role in soup, make a soft, sweet companion here.

This is also a fish that lends itself to a sharing platter. Arrange the leeks underneath, the fish on top, and spoon over the warm caper butter just before serving. Lemon wedges on the side let everyone adjust the acidity. Warm the platter first if you can; small pieces of fish lose heat quickly, and the butter is at its best while still flowing freely.

For those who would like wine, a crisp, dry white without pronounced oak works well. An alcohol-free white with bright acidity suits the same flavours. Lightly sparkling water with a thin strip of lemon zest is another good choice. Avoid making the drink too sweet: the mild fish and the leeks’ natural sweetness call for freshness rather than extra roundness.

The most important work happens before the fish reaches the pan. Trim away the membranes, cut into pieces of even thickness and dry thoroughly. A wet surface must first lose its water before it can brown. If the pieces are packed too closely together, the temperature drops and dinner starts simmering when you meant to fry it. Use a roomy pan or work in batches.

Start with a little oil and add butter once the fish has browned. That gives you both a golden crust and buttery flavour without exposing the milk solids to the hottest stage of cooking. Make the caper butter separately for better control over the browning. When it smells nutty and the solids at the bottom are light brown, take the saucepan off the heat; it is a short step from there to burnt.

A slim-probe thermometer is inexpensive insurance for an expensive ingredient. Monitor the temperature in the thickest piece rather than relying on cooking time alone. Have the potatoes, leeks and table ready first. Monkfish should not be kept warm while everything else catches up. That is the whole secret of this ugly fish’s comeback: a little care at the counter, precision in the pan and then straight to the table.