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 passionI dont knowwhetherI everreally thanked
youforchoosingmyfirstbook,English
Seafood Cookery (1988), as the Glenfiddich
Food Book of the Year in 1989. It was one of
the most prestigious food and drink awards
at the time and I was so delighted about it.
I was also amazed that you had come to my
restaurant in Padstow shortly before with
your daughter Sophie.
It so happens that your husband Geoffrey’s
anthology of poems, The Cherry Tree, which
my mother gave me when I was 12, led to my
lifelong love of poetry.
Cooking and poetry: you were like royalty.
I was in awe of you but, when I met you, you
were informal with a great sense of humour,
as was Sophie. I felt I’d known you both for
a long time. Only later did I realise, when
I won the award, that you were checking
me out, but at the time the thought never
occurred to me because Jane Grigson’s Fish
Book (1973) was, in the best of all possible
clichés, my bible. I could never have dreamtof emulating the enormous knowledge this
book shows of everything edible in our seas
and rivers. Each species is introduced with
memorable anecdotes, history and personal
views about its taste and importance in our
gastronomy. You wrote this about herrings:
“I remember as a child my father’s tales of
going out with herring boats from South
Shields or Tynemouth. He talked about the
cold and the fierce seas, the sudden energy
required and the cups of strong sweet tea that
kept them going. When the nets were hauled
in, the silver catch tumbled into the boat for
what seemed like hours, the mesh stuck solid
with fish. He understood well Scott’s remark
in The Antiquary, ‘It’s nae fish ye’re buying,
it’s men’s lives.’”
Inspired, I went out herring-netting off
the North Devon coast, at Clovelly. It was a
still, sunny and crisp November day. I took
some fish home to my son Edward’s cottage
near Padstow that same afternoon and he
fried them in oatmeal and made a salad withIdon’tknowwhetherIeverr
Rick Stein writes
to Jane Grigson
LETTER TO MY FOOD HERO