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Cod, Cold
The remains of cod may be used in various ways. One thing, however, should be attended to, and that is to remove the flesh from the skin and bones before it is quite cold. When this is done the cod may be simply arranged in neat flakes on a plate, peppered, a little vinegar poured over it, and the fish garnished with parsley; and served thus, it will not be a despicable addition to the breakfast-table, though further trouble will be amply repaid. If any cold sauce is left, it may be poured over the fish, bread-crumbs or mashed potatoes spread on it, a piece of butter dotted here and there, and the whole browned in a good oven, or before the fire (see FISH PUDDING). It may be served with macaroni (see COD AND MACARONI). It may be made into cakes, and served as cutlets (see COD-FISH CAKES). It may be moulded (see FISH MOULD). It may be stewed, and served with maitre d'hotel sauce, Italian sauce, or supreme sauce. It may be curried, cooked with grated Parmesan, or with bchamel, or brown sauce, or served au gratin, a la Provencale, or as a mayonnaise. The pieces may be put into a stewpan, taking care not to omit the sound, the tongue, or the eatable parts about the head. Any sauce that may be left may then be poured over it, a lump of butter added, and a dozen oysters with their liquor, or mussels, or cockles, or a few shrimps. The preparation may then be heated gently, put into a dish, bread-crumbs strewed over, and browned. In numerous ways cold cod, or cold fish of any kind, may be, with a little trouble and attention, presented again at table, and will form a palatable and pleasing dish.
This is a leftovers entry rather than a fixed recipe, but the two dishes it spells out — flaked cod with vinegar, and cod baked under crumbs with leftover sauce — are complete enough to follow. A few of its assumptions need translating.
- Flake while still warmThis is the hinge of the whole entry. Skin and bones separate cleanly from cod while the fish is still above room temperature; once fully cold the flesh sets around the pin bones and you shred it trying to pick them out. Do the picking as soon as you can handle the fish, then chill the flakes covered.</p>
- But do not leave it standingThe book takes for granted a cool larder rather than a refrigerator, and cold fish kept there between meals. Flake it warm, then refrigerate promptly and use within a day; cooked fish left at room temperature for hours is the one part of this method modern practice rejects outright.
- "A good oven"For browning a crumbed, sauced dish that is already cooked through, read this as a hot oven, roughly 400–425°F, high on the shelf, or simply put it under the broiler for two or three minutes. The aim is colour, not heat penetration.
- "Before the fire"The entry names no apparatus; browning at the fire was normally done with a reflector or Dutch oven set facing the coals, or with a salamander held over the surface. The broiler does the same job.
- The sound, the tongue, the headThe sound is the swim bladder, the tongue the muscular flesh from the throat, and the "eatable parts about the head" the cheeks and the flesh about the jaw and nape. Modern fishmongers rarely sell these and a supermarket fillet has none of them; skip the instruction rather than hunt for them.
- The dozen oystersAdd shucked oysters, mussels, cockles or shrimp at the very end and give them the gentlest heat only until the edges of the oysters ruffle — well under two minutes. Held in a stewpan while the mixture warms through, they turn to rubber.
- Cold sauceThe recipe assumes a jug of leftover egg sauce, parsley sauce or béchamel is standing about. If not, a thin béchamel loosened with a little of the fish's cooking liquid does the same work; the crumb topping needs something moist beneath it.
- Vinegar for the plain versionThe entry does not specify a kind; malt is the likeliest household vinegar. A teaspoon or so over a plateful of flakes, no more — it should sharpen the fish, not pickle it.
- YieldNo quantities are given anywhere, so any figure is a modern guess: something like 4–6 oz of picked cooked cod per person for a breakfast plate, less for the baked gratin, which stretches further on account of the sauce and potato.
Cassell's gives cold cod its own headword because in a large late-Victorian household it was an inevitability rather than an accident: boiled cod was cooked and sold in substantial pieces, and what came off the table at dinner had to reappear at breakfast. Almost the whole entry is cross-references — to fish cakes, fish mould, cod and macaroni — which is how these dictionaries worked, teaching a system of re-dressing rather than a single dish. The frugality is genuine but so is the ambition: the same paragraph offers a plate of peppered flakes with vinegar for the breakfast table and a mayonnaise or a Provençale for a served dinner, from identical material. The interest in the sound, the tongue and the cheeks reflects a period when cod arrived whole and every part had a name and a use; cod sounds were salted and sold in their own right, and their near-total disappearance from British cooking is a fair measure of how much fish handling has changed.