Free Forever Summer by Nigella Lawson Page B

take to the table. Some Northern impulse in me makes me want to prompt you to eat it with pumpernickel. But buttered brown bread is fine: or (as I, to be frank, most often eat it), go pure and carbohydrate-free and just put a green salad on the table alongside.
    Serves 4.



GRILLED SARDINES WITH LEMON SALSA
    There is something about fresh, really fresh, grilled sardines that reminds me instantly of those long holiday lunches in rented summer houses abroad. But if neither sardines, nor a fishmonger to fillet them, are available, know that this lemon salsa is terrific with any fish – and indeed most meats. Most often I use mint in this; sometimes I replace it with coriander: occasionally I use both, in tandem. I don’t think there’s a way this could taste bad. Try it with a little bit of chopped tarragon alongside some summery-grilled chicken.
    24 medium sardines (boned)
    for the salsa:
    2 lemons
    1 large or 2 small red onions
    small bunch fresh parsley
    small bunch fresh mint (or coriander)
    125ml extra virgin olive oil
    juice of half a lemon
    Maldon salt and black pepper
    Preheat the grill (or a barbecue) to the hottest it will go.
    Peel the lemons following the instructions for the lemony prawn salad , then chop them roughly and chuck them in a bowl. Now chop the red onion, parsley and mint (or coriander) either by hand or in the processor, being careful – please – not to turn them to mush.
    Mix the oniony herby mixture with the chunks of lemon in the bowl and stir in the olive oil and lemon juice, salt and pepper. Sometimes, I have to say, I add some crumbled dried red chilli pepper (or a finely chopped fresh green or red chilli) as well.
    Leave the salsa to macerate while you cook the sardines. When they’re really fresh, they scarcely need much time: just blitz them under a hot grill, transfer them to a waiting plate, sprinkle with Maldon salt and take to the table with the summer-sharp lemon salsa in its bowl alongside.
    Serves 6–8.



PEPPER-SEARED TUNA
    Those of my vintage may remember this dish from the eighties fondly as Tataki of Tuna: a log of ludicrously rubied fish, rolled in pepper, briefly seared and eaten finely sliced with shredded spring onions and twiggy strips of cucumber. Dunk in soy as you eat or go for the Vietnamese dipping sauce to go with it, or simply make up a few blobs of sinus-clearing wasabi. And if you do have some wasabi to hand, you can use this for smearing over the tuna, before coating it with peppercorns, in place of the English mustard stipulated below.
    1 tablespoon sesame oil
    1 teaspoon English mustard
    3–4 tablespoons black peppercorns, crushed roughly in a pestle and mortar
    500g sashimi-quality tuna fillet, cut in a log of even thickness at either end
    to serve:
    cucumber, cut into slender batons
    a few spring onions, cut into short lengths and then into fine strips
    In a small bowl mix the oil and mustard, and use a pastry brush to paint it on the tuna. Roll the tuna in the crushed peppercorns so that the long sides of the log are covered, but the ends are not.
    Heat a dry frying pan until it’s very hot and cook the tuna on all the long sides, searing the fish to about 3mm in a circle around the edge. You’ll be able to see how much of it’s cooked, because the ruby flesh will turn brown and the depth of the ring, if you see what I mean, will be evident from the uncoated round ends. Take out of the pan immediately and cool on a plate.
    With a sharp knife cut into the finest slices you can and serve with the cucumber and spring onions and soy, dipping sauce, wasabi, as you please.
    Serves 8 as a starter.



KERALAN FISH CURRY WITH LEMON RICE
    I’m on dangerous ground. Let me admit this straightaway. The recipe I’m about to give you is, purportedly, from Kerala – and have I ever been there? Well, I dream. And my excuse is, making this food is my way of dreaming. But even had I been there I wouldn’t be making any straight-faced claims for the ensuing