“Push it up through the spine until it comes out between its eyes” he says. I knew he was called Mike and that he was 30 something but we hadn’t had time for a proper introduction. My plane arrived late and Harry had scooped me up from the airport in his people carrier. We’d driven straight to the restaurant, wooden wine crates and vegetable boxes skidding around in the back of the car as we sped along winding roads.
Mike hands me the tray of very alive lobsters and a bundle of thin metal skewers and turns back to the stove. It’s one of those old French Charvet flat tops, belting out heat into the stifling kitchen. There are no windows. There is a door to the back courtyard though, which is open. Outside there are courgette plants growing in an old fountain. The door makes little difference, there’s no breeze to exchange the 40c air inside the kitchen with the 35c air outside.
I do as I’m told, finding a chink in the tail of the lobster’s thick shell and pushing the skewer cautiously forwards until, to my surprise, it pokes out right between the eyes. Bullseye. The Japanese have a method for the fast and efficient killing of fish and seafood called ‘Ike Jime’ in which a small incision is made in the fish’s tail and a thin wire is then quickly slid up the spinal column, killing the fish instantly and preserving its meat. It’s supposed to be both painless and superior from a culinary standpoint.
I was not performing Ike Jime. Having killed my lobster with all of the speed and efficiency of an arthritic sloth (the first one had time to look up at me with an expression that clearly said “you clumsy prick” before it died) I handed the tray back to Mike who proceeded to cook them directly over a charcoal grill as they were ordered.
2 hours before I’d been in the sky somewhere over the channel. An hour before that I’d boarded a plane with a one-way ticket, knowing only that I wanted to go and learn to cook stuff in France. Why France? Everyone had gone to France. All the books I’d read, every episode of Chef’s Table I’d watched, whether the cook was making Sichuan infused fine-dining in LA or fermented Nordic pinecone jam in Sydney, at some point they’d come here. And then they’d been able to tell cool stories about it years later. Well now it’s years later, and guess what I’m doing? Well done past me.
I only worked with Mike and Harry (and Ali!) for a few months, before moving to Paris, but with the gift of hindsight I realise what an important and formative experience that was. We cooked a daily changing menu of very seasonal food, the vast majority of our produce coming from the Auvergne’s rich volcanic soil. In particular I remember the stone fruit being exceptional. I ate peaches and apricots and plums that were better than I knew possible. The food had one foot firmly rooted in French tradition, but the other pleasingly left to wander into flavours and ideas from other parts of the world.
My recipe for you today is an expansion on the garnish of a dish we made one day of roast quail with peaches, green beans and black olives. You often see the word ‘garnish’ in recipes used to describe a little parsley or basil on top of a dish, which is one of the meanings. In restaurant cooking though, ‘garnish’ can also be a more involved affair (and the name of a section of the kitchen) where the chef prepares anything that is to accompany a protein on the plate. I split my time at Le Saint Eutrope between working garnish and cold starters during the lunch service, and then as a KP during the dinner service.
Mozzarella with Peaches & Green Beans
1/2 a Red Onion, finely sliced
2 Tbsp Red Wine Vinegar
250g Green Beans, topped and tailed
2 Peaches, stone removed and cut into roughly 1 inch chunks
About 20 Black Olives, halved and stones removed
A Handful of Basil Leaves, roughly torn
2 Balls of Mozzarella (leave out of the fridge for 30 mins before using)
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil
Add the sliced red onion to a small bowl with 1 tbsp of the vinegar and 1tbsp of water, stir and set aside while you prepare the other ingredients.
Blanch your trimmed green beans - boil in well salted water (think pasta water) for about 2 minutes until ‘al dente’, then transfer to a bowl of cold water for a minute to stop them cooking. Drain and pat dry.
Add your beans to a large bowl along with the onions (drain the vinegar and water), peaches, olives and basil. Add a splash more vinegar, a big pinch of salt and 2 tbsp of olive oil. Mix well and taste for seasoning.
Tear your mozzarella over a plate and season with a little salt. Spoon your salad mix over the mozzarella and season with a good grind of black pepper and another drizzle of oil.
You can also watch a video here:
Sounds delicious 👌
Actually my dream but could you make it with nectarines?