The waters off the Isle of Skye are teaming with treasures that are selected, prepared and packaged with a zealous regard for quality by Isle of Skye Seafoods. Richard Fox reports.
It's been a good four years since Scottish chef and general food guru Gordon Gellatel, introduced me to the delights of the Isle of Skye - not in the touristy sight-seeing sense, you understand, but in the sweaty London commercial kitchen capacity. I was Gordon's sous chef at the time and already familiar with the fabulous array of seafood the Scottish coastline harbours. But it wasn't until I was his understudy, that I discovered the truly artisan approach of sourcing and supplying, undertaken by John Gilbertson's Isle of Skye Seafoods company. I was in awe of the iridescent beauty of the mussel shells, not to mention their seemingly unfeasible weight, which was all fat, juicy mussel. The queenie scallops made some kings I'd encountered, look and taste like white backgammon pieces; while the kings were - well, just that.
I became a Scottish shellfish evangelist. Performing demos at events from the Good Food Show to beer and food master classes, I was like a fishy Billy Graham, shoving my fat juicy mussels and John Gilbertson's phone number under the noses of unsuspecting old ladies and Beckham look-alike bartenders - it's a miracle I wasn't arrested. But I make no apologies: produce that's this good needs shouting about.And so it is on a wet and windy evening in late September that I find myself winding through the Scottish countryside in search of my food heroes. (Actually Rick Stein has beaten me to it, having already featured John's company in his book of that name). John had lined up an all-star cast for my visit, which meant various forays into the wildest parts of an already remote place. Just for good measure, I've brought along my mate Andy from Inverness. As an ex-Navy pilot, I figure Andy's survival skills could be a serious asset on such a journey.
After a good whisky-induced sleep, we meet John at his Broadford headquarters. The dowdy buildings on the bleak industrial estate are a good cover for the comings and goings of the sea-borne superstars. For a start, there's the langoustines - or Dublin Bay Prawns. The fishermen refer to them simply as prawns and find it hilarious that the frozen, glazed Atlantic versions go by the same name. The prawns John deals with are caught in creels and then meticulously graded and sorted into "tubes" on the boat. It's a kind of private accommodation as opposed to the dormi-tory living of lesser specimens and prevents the live and kicking crustaceans causing any damage to each other.
What John really excels at is smoking fish. From eel - which makes a miraculous journey to the Scottish coast from the Sargasso Sea - to rum and sugar marinated salmon; the whole process is redolent of menu transparency. John personally selects the fisherman and boat that begin this chain of textbook traceability. This way he knows to the hour when the fish was caught and how it has been kept until it reaches the shore. Then, through a traditional, long, cold smoke - as opposed to the short, sharp injection more commonly given in industrial methods - the fish are treated to selected whisky cask chips. It's a wonder they don't emerge wearing slippers, reading the latest copy of The Scotsman. The entire process through to final packaging is carried out by hand.
The previous evening at John's house we were treated to his pièce de résistance: carpaccio of smoked haddock. The fish is sliced wafer thin and then treated to a simple marinade of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Finished with some chopped chives and freshly grated Parmesan, the dish is a miracle of taste and texture. Leaving the heady aromas of the smokehouse behind, we move into king scallop territory. These awesome molluscs are all hand-dived for by expert ex-commercial diver David Oakes. This is a painstaking process that begins with the collection of fingernail-sized "spats". Some five years later, after tending with the love and care rarely bestowed upon our most treasured possessions, the grown scallop ends up in John's finishing plant. Each scallop is carefully extracted from the shell, then expertly hand packaged to ensure that no quality is lost before arriving in the chef's kitchen.
In the face of such an artisan approach at every stage over so many years, I vow to show a renewed reverence to such produce the next time I have the good fortune to be cooking it. From the crabs - bought off the boats on behalf of Isle of Skye Seafoods by Rick Simons who then hand-extracts the meat - to rope-grown mussels of such flavour they have converted many a "green-lipped" diehard New Zealander, every product we see has a similar story of passion and care, all in the name of great flavour. I've been cooking these mussels for years by simply putting them in a pan with a handful of chopped onions and a good slug of herbinfused wheat beer, before finishing with a little cream and chopped parsley. Produce this good needs nothing more than perfunctory cooking and minimum additional ingredients.
Leaving the island, I reflect on the fact that every chef, cook or middleman should at some point have the opportunity to witness the sustainable, flavour-driven process we've had the privilege to experience. As John continues to steadfastly resist the commercially more viable temptation to process lesser quality and higher volumes, we have the chance to embrace such suppliers to enhance the reputation and customer base of our food-driven businesses. Given that some 80% of this produce goes straight to Spain - who approach their seafood with almost religious reverence - it's time to utilise the gift of our coastline, and make the most of what is almost certainly, the finest resource of it's kind in the world.
Go for it John.
Contacts: Isle of Skye Seafoods, Tel: 01471 822135 www.skye-seafood.co.uk