Looking for something to cook for tea, the fishmonger sang the praises of his monkfish, and I bought some. Back at the caravan, I slapped it into the frying pan whereupon it immediately curled itself into a hump in a corner of the pan, refusing to come out and co-operate. I did my best, but it was so rubbery no one could face eating it, and we threw it out.
With the rise of tv chefs, and Gordon Ramsay in particular - just my kind of man when he was all craggy, till he went and spoilt it - I often heard monkfish praised - but remained incredulous. Today, in Asda, seeing some lying there, looking creamy and delicious, I decided that forty-three years of estrangement was quite enough, that I must after all have been wrong, and bought some.
I have to report that it is still rubbery and gruesome, and that it followed the path of its ancestor, into my bin.
For some really good food, see The Curious Cook's Book