Cornish seafood, autumn roots, the sea in a bowl
Turbot arrives in Cornish waters come September, fat and ready. Brown crab's at its peak — all meat, no apology. I salt-bake the celeriac because it keeps the bastard moist and sweet, then pour over a quick dashi made with Cornish kelp and fish stock. It's not fusion nonsense; it's just the cleanest way to let each thing sing.
Preheat oven to 200°C. Whisk sea salt with a splash of water until it's damp sand consistency. Lay half on a baking tray, nestle whole (unpeeled) celeriac on top, bury it in remaining salt. Roast 30–35 minutes until a skewer slides through like warm butter. The skin will crack; that's correct.
Heat fish stock gently. Add kelp, turn off heat, let it steep 5 minutes—no more or it turns bitter and you've wasted your morning. Strain through fine sieve. Taste it: should be clean, faintly briny, whisper of umami. Season with smoked sea salt. Keep warm on lowest heat.
Pat turbot dry inside and out with kitchen paper. Salt and pepper both sides—be generous. Let it sit 10 minutes while the oven comes up to 200°C. This matters: skin tightens, fish stays moist.
Heat 2 tbsp oil in a large ovenproof frying pan until smoking. Lay turbot skin-side down—it should hiss immediately. Don't move it. 3 minutes. Flip, finish in the oven for 8–10 minutes. White-fleshed fish cooks fast; overdone turbot is a sad turbot. Meat should flake but still give a little.
Pick the celeriac from its salt tomb—careful, it's molten. Scoop out the soft flesh into a warm bowl. Flake brown crab gently over the top. Dress with remaining 1 tbsp oil and a whisper of smoked salt. Don't overwork it.
Place turbot fillet—skin side up if you can manage it without it falling apart—slightly off-centre of a deep bowl. Spoon the celeriac and crab to one side. Pour hot dashi around, not over. Crack black pepper across the fish. Eat immediately, skin still glossy.
“This isn't about theatre. Turbot goes in the bowl skin-side up so it stays crisp. Celeriac and crab sit to one side—let people see what they're eating. Pour the dashi around the fish just before service; it keeps the skin from steaming and turning grey. The whole thing should read: sea, earth, clarity. No mess. No apology.”
Turbot's buttery and sweet—the brown crab adds a savoury punch, almost funky in the best way. Celeriac collapses into the dashi, releasing its nutty sweetness. First bite: richness. Last bite: clean salt and that mineral seaweed note cutting through. You taste autumn and the Cornish coast. Leaves you wanting another bowl.
Skip the turbot and crab. Make a fat slice of salt-baked celeriac the hero. Top it with sautéed wild mushrooms (cremini or chestnut, autumn's best) and crispy sage. Keep the dashi exactly the same—kelp and vegetable stock (use mushroom trimmings). Dress mushrooms with rapeseed oil, smoked salt, cracked pepper. Pour dashi around. The umami from mushrooms and kelp replaces the crab; the celeriac stays sweet. You lose nothing.
Loire's white wine for shellfish—lean, salty, mineral. Crab's best friend. Won't drown the turbot's delicacy.
Local and light. Hoppy enough to cut through the crab's richness, clean enough not to overpower the fish.
Fermented acidity mirrors dashi's umami. Keeps the palate fresh between bites without fighting the seafood.
Cooked this dish? Snap a photo, share it here. No filter, no fuss — the good, the wonky, the accidentally set-fire-to.
Sign in to share your photo of this dish.
No one's cooked this yet — be the first.