This is the seafood stew kinda like bouillabaisse that I made when we were camping out in a cabin in the rain one time.
In Australia we don’t really camp in the rain. We like it to be a postcard worthy sunshine and scenery type setting at all times when we’re headed to the bush or beach (or a combination of both is oft available) for a weekend. We are not at all willing to make the most of a bit of shit weather by pretending we are on an episode of “Alone”. Nope. That can pretty much get fucked.
That’s not to say that I have never been camping and a wet sky event has nudged it’s way into my weekend (and has brought a whole heap of its killjoy mates too – clouds, howling winds, less than primo temperatures and more). That has certainly happened more than once. That was way back when I thought the local weather man was a trustworthy sort, though, and I would heed those words he said. Not anymore. Not since he knocked up my sister. And then there’s the fake news about the weather too…
It would also be fair to say that many a young country Australian would consider camping to be somewhat akin to chucking a swag in the back of the ute, stopping in at Woolies and the bottlo for snags, a loaf of sliced bread and dead ‘orse, and a carton whatever piss is on special, respectively, and then heading down to a water source or bush type setting for the night.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that we will happily leave just about all semblance of being human at home in the cupboard (or wherever it is that stuff is normally stored), but camping in the rain… well that can just fuck right off.
I feel like now would be a good time to mention that this one time we did actually go camping full well knowing that it was going to rain. But we really, really needed to get a bit of nature in our lives. It was one of those “life event” type occasions that really leave you with no say in the matter – time to try and renegotiate the terms with your almighty, you know what I mean?
Oh, but we did rent a cabin for the weekend, so camping is not the word I should be using here, so I guess I am just lying straight to your face.
From here on in I shall be called a liar, and that thing we did that one weekend shall be called “pretend camping”.
OK. Let’s make this stew.
PRETEND CAMPING FISH STEW
8 large prawns, peeled and cleaned, heads reserved for a little extra flavour-town later
250 g cuttlefish or squid, cleaned and sliced into 5 mm (¼ in) strips
500 g pipis or clams, purged to remove any sand if necessary
500 g mussels, debearded
1 onion, medium dice
1 medium fennel, medium dice, some fronds reserved for garnish
4 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
¼ cup white wine
½ cup fresh orange juice
A good pinch of saffron threads steeped in ½ cup boiling water
3 cups of some delicious tomato sauce that you made (recipe coming up) or tomato passata
¼ cup olive oil
A good pinch salt and pepper – but just remember the mussels will be donating some saltiness to the cause, too
A heap of fresh crusty bread or toast and garlicky aioli* (recipe here), to serve
Heat olive oil (yeah, all of it if you think that’s a lot) in a pot over medium-low heat.
Add prawn heads and cook out for a minute or two.
Add onion, fennel, garlic and a pinch of salt and pepper and cook out for 8 – 10 minutes, stirring regularly.
The onion and fennel should be soft and about to start taking on a little colour. If not, cook out for another few minutes.
Add wine, orange juice, tomato sauce/passata and saffron water and turn the heat up a little to medium.
Once your tomatoey goodness has a simmer on you will go in with the mussels, clams and cuttlefish.
Get the lid on that pot and get it back up to the simmer.
Stir after a minute or two to check if your molluscs are starting to open.
If they are starting to open, you can get your prawns into the pot now. If they are not, try again in another minute or repeat until those sexy little bastards are playing the game.
Give it a little stir, put that lid back on and leave for another minute.
Give it another stir and check seasoning. Adjust with a little more salt if necessary.
Once everything is cooked you can garnish with reserved fennel fronds and get that pot onto the table for your homies to help themselves.
Don’t forget an extra bowl or two for empty shells and please make sure you have a fuck load of fresh crusty bread or toast, smeared with that garlicky mouth goodtime spread, AKA aioli, to go with.
*please note I said garlicky aioli, not garlic aioli as is often stated on supermarket bottle labels of brands of ill repute. What the fuck am I on about? Well, aioli literally translates to garlic oil, describing the main ingredients featured in said aioli. Garlic aioli would be “garlic garlic oil”, which, in a rare bout of cohesion, even the spell check on my computer would agree does not sound right.
