Cataplana-esque Fish Stew

Cooking on a budget this week too? I got you covered.

Back with the usual programming of classic comfort foods, and this week I bring you a fish stew! A fish stew that wasn’t even supposed to be a fish stew. Trying to use up pantry staples and freezer finds this week, I accidentally made a Cataplana-esque stew. Cataplana, a national Portuguese dish, instantly transports me back to warm Algarve evenings, where I first tasted it years ago in a little taverna. Thing is, I didn't mean to make cataplana, so I won't call it that. For one, I don’t have a traditional copper dish, nor does my version include sausage or any clams. In fact, it's not cataplana at all, so if you’re searching for an authentic recipe for that, I’m afraid you might have to continue your search. Still, the flavour profile of this recipe is irresistibly similar. A cheat version, then? Sounds good to me. So without further ado, I present you with a fish stew that tastes just like cataplana, only cheaper and easier to make. Quite literally (in my case this week anyway) a poor woman’s cataplana. Enjoy!

The story goes, it's the third week of February, and I'm struggling—partly with the rubbish weather, but mostly financially. Not massively, but you know, in a way that I need to be more mindful about my outgoings until the next payday. When this happens, I raid my pantry and freezer, trying to create meals with what I already have. Maybe stocking up on few fresh bits, but nothing crazy. We are using things up. Which is how I came up with the name for this newsletter, actually. Many great dishes are born this way—like cucina povera, the 'poor kitchen' cuisine of Italy and other Mediterranean countries. This style of cooking comes from the rural regions of central and southern Italy—Tuscany, Puglia, Campania—where peasant populations traditionally cooked with limited ingredients. Cucina povera wasn't a 'philosophy' at first, it was necessity—the only way many Italians could afford to eat. Cucina povera is all about frugality, no food waste, making the most of every ingredient. That’s my philosophy too, especially at this point of the month. Stews are great for using up scraps and leftovers. Fish stews, especially in fishing villages, probably started as a way to use up excess clams, mussels, prawns—you get the idea. I’m not fact-checking this, but it makes sense right? Every culture has a stew. There are probably as many stews as there are nationalities. I even wrote about a Polish classic stew here already. Have I just come up with an idea for a book?!™

I use 'pantry' loosely here, because the star of this dish was actually in the freezer. This is where I occasionally find real gems I either forgot about (some broad beans that should have been cooked in August when I brought them back from Poland, whoops). Or a protein I bought and immediately froze, knowing I’d need it for a rainy day. This was such an instance, as I pulled out frozen cod fillets that I bought many moons ago for this type of situation.

Now that I had the fish, I needed something to go with it. My first instinct with cod would be to bake it in some olive oil, lemon, garlic and herbs. Nice, but that meant more ingredients—salad, tomatoes, potatoes, the works. That, I couldn't afford. I'm haunted by this one poached cod in tomato sauce I had once. I've tried recreating it, failed every time. Including this time. I planned a lovely poached cod with tinned tomatoes, olives, capers (all pantry staples). I even got excited, made some breadcrumb green beans to go with it, even posted about it here. In some ways, this dish was nice, but it left me feeling disappointed. It didn’t taste like that cod I remembered. I ate the meal, but my heart wasn’t in it, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint where I went wrong. Maybe it was because I didn’t use any recipe and just tried to recreate it from memory—throw some ingredients together and see what happens. Which, by the way, is how I always cook, but now that I have this food newsletter, I call it recipe testing, you know.

Frustrated with myself, I called my mum, complaining about the dish and my disappointment. Her instant advice? ‘Potatoes.’ Jackpot. She also reminded me of the cataplana we loved in Algarve, the one we tried to recreate at our friends' house. Ain’t she clever. The next day, I nipped to the shop and bought potatoes, as well as red pepper, ready to try again. I was calling it ‘cataplana’ by now, even though I knew it wasn’t. I set out to make this after work, and this time, fully delivered. Just one boiled potato and a gently roasted red pepper transformed the bland poached cod into a hearty, warming stew—perfect for a mid-week dinner. I ate it with some bread to mop up the sauce and gleamed with delight. I called my mum right after to congratulate her on the brilliant idea.

You’ll see that this stew is an intricate dance of chopping, frying, and stirring things one by one until they come together as one. This is my favourite way of cooking. For me, chopping with a podcast or music is pure bliss—all the worries fade and I'm finally present in the moment. It's more effective than any meditation I've tried, and mind you, I do yoga at least three times a week! I had to trace back my steps, but you don’t have to, as the recipe I’m sharing below incorporates the potato and red pepper early on so that everything comes together in one pot, in no time.

Cataplana-esque Fish Stew

Ingredients

• 2 cod fillets (or any white flakey fish, for that matter), I cut mine into 4 even pieces

• 1 tin of plum tomatoes

• 1 tablespoon of tomato purée

• 1 large or 5 baby potatoes (I used one, cut into a few chunks)

• 1/2 red bell pepper or 1 pointed pepper

• 2 tablespoons olive oil

• 1-2 anchovy fillets (optional, I was just cleaning my fridge)

• 1 small or 1/2 large white onion

• 2-3 cloves of garlic

• 1 tablespoon of capers

• 8-10 olives (I used regular green pitted variety, but I think Kalamata olives would work even better here)

• Some leafy greens like kale or chard (optional, again, I was cleaning my fridge; who knows, maybe you need to use things up as well)

• 1 teaspoon of lemon juice

• Bunch of fresh oregano (or dried oregano or other mixed Italian blend spices you may have on hand!)

• Bunch of parsley (but I think coriander would work even better here)

• Salt and pepper to taste

Method

1. If cooking from frozen, pull the fish fillets from the freezer first thing in the morning and place them, unpacked, on a plate in the fridge. This is the safest way to defrost any protein and means that the fish will be ready for you to start cooking just in time for dinner. Unless you’re using a fresh fillet, then obviously skip this step and pull out your fish when you’re ready to drop it in the stew!

2. Dice the onion and roughly chop the garlic and oregano (if using fresh).

3. Pour a good glug of olive oil into a large pot (I used my trusty Dutch oven) and add chopped onions, garlic, and oregano, stir and fry until they become translucent/until it smells really nice in your kitchen. Add an anchovy fillet or two (if using) now so it dissolves with them. Good moment to also add a sprinkle of chilli flakes, again if using.

4. Cut the potato into even chunks. Add the potato to the pot, season with salt and pepper, and stir well. If using dried herbs, add them to season it now too.

5. Roughly chop the capers and halve the olives, unless you prefer them whole. If they're Kalamata olives, definitely keep the pits in—I love fishing (!) them out and removing the pit myself. Add the capers and olives to the pot.

6. Cut the red bell pepper into even stripe-y chunks. Add to the pot as well.

7. Add some tomato purée now and stir well to encourage gentle caramelisation and frying. The tomato purée gives sweetness here.

8. Add a whole tin of plum tomatoes, using your hands to break the tomatoes (highly satisfying) and clean up the tin from residual sauce by adding some water to it and pouring it all back into the pot.

9. Stir and allow it to boil, then reduce the heat to low and let it simmer. Preferably with a lid on for about 15 minutes.

10. In the meantime, cut the fillets into even pieces. Really depends on what kind of fillets you are working with; mine were quite large, so I cut them into 4 pieces.

    Season the fish with salt and pepper on both sides. Set aside.

11. Check on the situation in your pot; if you notice that a lot of liquid has evaporated, add a glass of water. Basically, you want the flavours to be concentrated and have a stew-like quality, but for it to still be a good amount of liquid to poach your fish in.

12. This is optional, but throw in some chard or kale if you have it on hand to add some healthy greens to your dinner!

13. Allow it to simmer until the potatoes are tender, just enough to put your fork through them fairly easily. Essentially, you are boiling them in the sauce the way you’d in water, and that takes about 20 minutes.

14. Taste the stew to see if you’re happy with it. Now would be a good moment to season it again with salt and pepper, add another sprinkle of chilli flakes and add some squeezed lemon juice, finding your equilibrium. I like mine to be more on the spicy side, so I added a bit more chilli flakes now.

15. Stir again, and if happy with the overall taste and your potatoes are tender enough (<3), you are now ready to add your fish fillets.

16. Place each piece of fish in the pot so that it's submerged nicely in the stew. Similarly to how you’d poach your eggs in shakshuka. After placing the fish, grab a lid and cover the pot, continuing to simmer on low heat.

17. Fish poached in tomato sauce typically takes 4 to 10 minutes, depending on the thickness of the fish. You will know when it’s cooked as it will start to flake apart. I think mine was ready in about 8 minutes. I checked on it after the first 4 minutes to see if it was ready, and let it cook until I was happy with it. You don’t want to leave it there for too long though as it will become gooey in texture so be mindful of that!

18. As the fish is poaching, roughly chop the parsley or coriander for garnish.

19. If serving this with bread or baguette, you can prepare this now too. Any stale bread would be lovely to use up here to mop up the sauce. I lightly fried some sourdough in olive oil, but I also think this would be lovely with a simple rustic ciabatta or a baguette.

20. Plate it, making sure that you have enough of each ingredient in every portion. Sprinkle parsley or coriander on top, drizzle with some olive oil to finish, and voilà!

21. Inevitably you will have some leftovers for lunch the next day. That’s what I’m having today.

Also, a brief thank you to everyone who has subscribed to this newsletter recently—it's great to have you here! I hope you enjoy this recipe as much as you all seemed to liked the food guide to Rome. Next up in the newsletter : I’ll be sharing the story of a Donut Day and making Polish carnival special faworki with my mum. Following that, I’ll be releasing another food guide, this time from Palermo, where I’ll be spending a week in March.

Lots of love and stay cosy! xx

I was looking up names of potatoes to tell you exactly what I’ve used and came across this lovely picture, so just so in case you’re wondering I used the trusty russet variety.