Page 34 - Delicious - UK (February 2020)

LE TTER TO MY F OOD HER O

Rick Stein writes

to Jane Grigson

She’s the food writer who inspired, among many

others, one of the UK’s best-loved chefs – the man
who’s become synonymous with fish cookery in the

UK. Here, Rick Stein thanks his food hero for sparking
an interest in seafood that was to become a passion

I don t know whether I ever really thanked on’t know whether I ever r of emulating the enormous knowledge this
Id
you for choosing my first book, English book shows of everything edible in our seas
Seafood Cookery (1988), as the Glenfiddich and rivers. Each species is introduced with
Food Book of the Year in 1989. It was one of memorable anecdotes, history and personal
the most prestigious food and drink awards views about its taste and importance in our
at the time and I was so delighted about it. gastronomy. You wrote this about herrings:
I was also amazed that you had come to my “I remember as a child my father’s tales of
restaurant in Padstow shortly before with going out with herring boats from South
your daughter Sophie. Shields or Tynemouth. He talked about the
It so happens that your husband Geoffrey’s cold and the fierce seas, the sudden energy
anthology of poems, The Cherry Tree, which required and the cups of strong sweet tea that
my mother gave me when I was 12, led to my kept them going. When the nets were hauled
lifelong love of poetry. in, the silver catch tumbled into the boat for
Cooking and poetry: you were like royalty. what seemed like hours, the mesh stuck solid
I was in awe of you but, when I met you, you with fish. He understood well Scott’s remark
were informal with a great sense of humour, in The Antiquary, ‘It’s nae fish ye’re buying,
as was Sophie. I felt I’d known you both for it’s men’s lives.’”
a long time. Only later did I realise, when Inspired, I went out herring-netting off
I won the award, that you were checking the North Devon coast, at Clovelly. It was a
me out, but at the time the thought never still, sunny and crisp November day. I took
occurred to me because Jane Grigson’s Fish some fish home to my son Edward’s cottage
Book (1973) was, in the best of all possible near Padstow that same afternoon and he
clichés, my bible. I could never have dreamt fried them in oatmeal and made a salad with