Marinaded barbecued monkfish and langoustines

A delicious recipe for marinaded barbecued monkfish and langoustines with a distinctly Japanese influence—based on robatayaki cooking—to give your summer BBQ a much healthier and tastier vibe.

Holy orders

So this one is going to be all about confusion; confusion about the names of ingredients, and even confusion about what this style of cooking is called. I'm sure you'll manage.

There's a little backstory here. This weekend I made a last-minute decision to head for England's Kent coast. A friend of mine is catsitting for other friends of mine who've headed off to Australia and New Zealand to visit family. The temptation to appease my inner redneck worship of cooking with fire proved too much. After all, I thought, three old blokes in the house—the 80-year-old dad of my catsitting friend was there too—seemed like a very good option; chilled and no swingers with Prosecco turning up unannounced...

Confusion

The first confusion is actually about what the cooking method is called. In the UK, USA and Australia, it's usually called a barbecue, barbie or BBQ. In Argentina they call it asado. And in South Africa they call it a braai. But I was actually thinking more of Japanese robatayaki cooking, a charcoal-grilling style of cooking—pretty close to the burning charcoal— that arose among the fishing communities of Japan's northern island of Hokkaido.

This seemed like a good starting point for the father-and-son duo, alarmingly health-conscious eaters who prefer fish to any meat—yes, I was almost glazing over with ennui... But, whereas robatayaki (often just called robata by hipsters) often involves cooking a range of bite-sized tasty morsels arising from the sea, I went more substantial.

So, early in the morning, we traipsed off to Fruits de Mer, Broadstairs' premium fishmonger, to secure our choice of lovely North Sea fishiness caught that very morning. The monkfish was never a question; yes, please! And eventually, I insisted on the langoustine tails as the second part of the meal. Now, there can be some confusion about monkfish—it's called goosefish or American angler in some parts—but the langoustines may well present you with even more of a linguistic challenge.

In England they're often called Norway lobster. In Ireland, Dublin Bay prawn. In Spain they're called cigala; in Italy, scampi. In essence, it's all the same thing, the main point being that they are a smaller kind of lobster versus a shrimp or prawn. They're found in colder waters. In essence, it doesn't matter what crustacean you use. Just ensure they have a robust shell, a meaty tail and have been properly cleaned by a skilful fishmonger. Once again Fruits de Mer of Broadstairs win out...

These quantities feed 3 to 4 adults. Yes, of course I made additional salads—such as potato salad— and a classic green salad. And, I toasted flatbreads over the coals, in my fear that there wouldn't be enough food for hungry old geezers or that they might find the flavours of these core dishes too challenging. Of course, there were piles of food left over. Just remember that a good BBQ is like a summer version of a Christmas dinner in that the leftovers last for days and make you happy that you don't actually need to cook for a bit.

Okay, so this does assume you understand some of the principles of cooking outdoors with hot coals. Check out this if you don't.

Shopping list

for the marinaded barbecued monkfish

• 1 appropriately sized fresh monkfish, deboned and skinned

• ¼ cup teriyaki marinade; store bought or make your own

• 2 tspns garlic & ginger paste

• A small clutch of fresh coriander, roughly chopped

• Salt and pepper to taste

for the marinaded barbecued langoustines

• 1 or 2 raw langoustines per diner — get the fishmonger to de-head and clean them, but leave the tail shells on

• ¼ cup yakitori sauce; store bought or make your own

• The juice and pith of ½ a fresh lime

• ½ a fresh lime, thinly sliced

for the shitake mushroom, courgette and avocado salad

• 1 large fresh fresh courgette, scrubbed and cut into irregular slices (method below)

• Approx. 150g whole shitake mushrooms, washed

• 1 large ripe-but-firm avocado, sliced vertically

• 3 heaped tspns, chopped smoked garlic

• 2 tspns sesame oil

• 3 tspns vegetable oil or sunflower oil

• 1 tspn minced red chillies

• 1 tspn za'atar spice mix

• 1 tspn freshly ground black pepper

• the juice and pith of 1 lemon

• A little freshly ground black pepper

Cooking Method

the shitake mushroom, courgette and avocado salad

1. Start on this first. Cut your scrubbed courgette into large pieces horizontally. Then cut these segments into relatively thick slices vertically. Place in a dish and add 1 tspn of the smoked garlic and the juice and pith of ½ of a lemon. Gently fold in. Cover and store in the fridge up to six hours before you cook it, at least three

2. At least two hours before starting the barbecue cooking, heat the sunflower (or vegetable) oil in a large, flat frying pan on a medium-to-high heat. When warm, add the remainder of the smoked garlic and allow it to sizzle. Add the za'atar. Briefly release the aromas. Then add the minced red chillies and sizzle briefly

3. Add the courgette and all of the juices in which it has been marinaded. It should hiss as the lemon juice cooks off. Initially, the courgette will give off some liquid—keep stirring. But, eventually, the pan will become fairly dry and the courgette will turn golden. It's also fine if they begin to caramelise at the edges

4. Add the sesame oil to the still fairly hot pan. NB: sesame oil heats fairly quickly so do not allow it to heat for more than a minute or two. Reduce to a low-to-medium heat and add the shitake mushrooms, folding in gently so that they combine with the ingredients in the pan, but do not crush or break them

5. When the mushrooms are nearly cooked, add the black pepper and stir in. Once cooked—they should still be slightly al dente—remove from the heat and cool

6. When still lukewarm (tiède), decant to a serving dish or plate. Cut the avocado into vertical slices. Place on top of the mushrooms and courgettes. Gently drizzle the remaining lemon juice over the ingredients, being attentive to ensure that the avocado is coated—because this prevents it going brown

the marinaded barbecued monkfish

1. Cut your de-boned, skinned monkfish vertically into fairly large fillets (roughly the size of a small chicken breast) and place in a dish. In a suitable receptacle, mix the teriyaki marinade together with the garlic & ginger paste. Baste all sides with a pastry brush or using clean fingers. Gently sprinkle the roughly chopped coriander over the top surface of the monkfish; cover and store in the fridge. Place the remaining marinade in the fridge—you'll use it during the cooking. Unlike with red meats or chicken, don't do this more than three hours before you put it on the barbecue

2. When your BBQ coals are white-hot, place the marinaded monkfish fillets on the grille fairly close to the coals. There really isn't a rule here. Turn a few times, basting with the remaining marinade as needed—I find about 15mins optimal, not wanting it overcooked. Monkfish is, by nature, fairly rubbery. But it might take a little longer to cook to your preferred consistency. How much you cook it is a matter or taste rather than necessity—hello, sushi anyone? You may want the marinade well caramelised for best effect

3. Throw a few seeded flatbreads onto the barbecue and serve with these once browned

the marinaded barbecued langoustines

1. While you're busy eating the monkfish and salads, place the langoustine on the grille. Initially, place the slices of lime on the grille under them. I'm probably overly neurotic about crustaceans, but I prefer that they're reasonably well cooked. I never fear allowing the outer shell to become fairly blackened

2. Cook for at least 15 to 20mins unless your fire is particularly hot, turning a couple of times and removing the slices of lime from underneath the first time you turn them. When properly cooked—blackened exoskeletons, for example—plate and dive into that second run of the meal. Once cooled, don't be scared to lick the shells—where the marinade is beautifully caramelised—before peeling

Alternatives

This is a pescatarian dish. Nah, I really don't have either a carnivore or vegan version.

Pairings

I've had this with both great whites (wines not sharks) and rosé wines when I was still honing the recipe. On this occasion I had it with a perfectly workable white Rioja, despite the tut-tutting of grown men drinking juices and other shite they believe will prevent dementia...

Never mind the pollocks — breaking news

Okay, so there is nothing I love more than ping pong cuisine; that unique kitchen camaraderie that evolves between people who love cooking. So, news just in, my brother-in-law Karel has undertaken his own version of this recipe. Based in Frankfurt (am Main), his version is living proof that you don't need to barbecue this number. Nor, indeed do you even need monkfish.

I'm not gonna explain it: Karel's own words give a far clearer picture.

"Finally got round to cooking the monkfish that I had been drooling over. Well … not entirely. I can’t (and dare not, I guess) bbq on charcoal chez Luc, nor at my own place for that matter. And then the really very good local fishmonger … had run out of monkfish.

"So, in the end, it turned out to be barbecued monkfish without bbq and without monkfish but otherwise following your recipe. Used pollock instead and a very hot grill fry pan to start the cooking off with; fairly much neutral sunflower oil and a bed of coriander, hoping the marinated loins would thus not stick nor fall apart in flakes. And hooray, they didn’t.

"After that short blast in the pan, I finished it off some 10 minutes in the preheated oven (covered). Surely, in the end, it wasn’t your dish, but hey, seems like it had fathered a very savoury new sibling."

He was even gracious enough to not point out that his wine pairing was definitive. So, off you go, people who don't barbecue: you can do it indoors.

Karel's version with pollock, cooked indoors