This evening I got Baby A ready for bed, which these days seems to routinely involve torturing her in the name of administering various medicines. Between L and I we can usually manage to get her to take what she needs, but alone it’s much more hit and miss. Mainly miss; tonight everything both she and I were wearing got coated in a gloopy spray of sticky medicine. Nice. So after a hasty clean-up, I set about making Flounder Francese with Toasted Almonds, Lemon and Capers [recipe], substituting sole for the flounder due to supply problems.
Essentially this is the same recipe and methodology as yesterday, with capers and lemon added to the wine and parsley sauce, and fish substituted for the chicken. The fish I bought was the tiniest sliver it’s probably possible to buy, and this may have contributed to the fact that the end result tasted a little on the omelette-esque side. Presumably the ratio of flesh to egg coating was too low to override the egg effect. Other than that, I felt that the sauce was too harsh, somehow almost metallic in its acidity. The capers and the lemons with the wine were very jarring to the senses. The spinach was cooked with onion rather than garlic, which in itself was fine, but the fact that it was cooked in the same skillet as the sauce, meant that it unfortunately tasted very strongly of salty lemons.
In all honesty, I ate all the bread and a taste of the fish and spinach, before making myself a sandwich. For the sake of fairness, as it’s sometimes hard to tell if pregnancy or taste buds are dictating my current likes and dislikes, I kept the rest of the meal for L to sample. Unfortunately, eating old cold fish is maybe not the most conducive circumstance for a good review of a meal, but L agreed. This meal is not so good.
Perhaps with a more substantial cut of fish, the flavours would have worked better. As it stands, this was not an improvement over the chicken version, and it was marginally more complicated. Tomorrow we will be attempting Chicken Mamacello and Asparagus Tips, named for Rachael Ray’s mother who loves Limoncello, and is thus nicknamed Mamacello. In another world we could be Mamagin, and Papabeer. If it wasn’t for those pesky kids.