International Bento (China): Chicken wings bento

My last post reminded me that I've really fallen down on posting my bentos, so here's another one: Chinese-inspired chicken wings ("Beijing Wings" from Cook This, Not That!), pork fried rice, and baby bok choy with spicy vinaigrette.

The pork fried rice is much like pork fried rice anywhere - a bit of egg, a bit of bbq pork from a Chinese butcher, some onion, leftover plain long grain rice. There's an art to a great fried rice, but this one was just a quick, cobble-together: tasty, but not truly a classic of its kind.

The bok choy in vinaigrette did not enjoy waiting in the fridge until morning, and it looks as though I may have over-steamed it, too, as it's usually a bit brighter green. The vinaigrette is a mixture of soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, sambal oeklek, minced ginger, and minced garlic. I don't use measurements when I make this up, but I don't use much oil. It's more like a dipping sauce than a real vinaigrette, but it goes beautifully on steamed or stir-fried bok choy, gai lan, or other strong greens.

The wings are fairly simple to make, and are baked instead of fried, so, theoretically a bit healthier for you, even though the skin's still on.

Beijing Wings
Adapted from Cook This, Not That!

Serves 3 - 4

1 kilo chicken wings, jointed (freeze the tips for making stock)
1/3 cup low sodium soy sauce
3 tablespoons brown sugar (or honey)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tablespoons freshly grated ginger
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons Sriracha
1 - 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (half a lime)
toasted sesame seeds
1 green onion, sliced

Combine the soy sauce, sugar, garlic, and ginger in a large glass or ceramic bowl. Add the wing sections (you can also buy just paddles or drumettes) and stir them around until they are well coated. Cover the container with its lid or plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour, four or eight hours being better (ideally, do this after breakfast to be ready for dinner).

Preheat the oven to 450F, and line a baking sheet with foil. Spray the baking sheet with a thin layer of canola spray (or brush lightly with peanut oil). Drain the wings from the marinade (discard the marinade). Lay out the wings in a single layer on the foil, and bake for about 15 minutes. The skin should start to get crispy. Turn the wings over and bake for another 5 to 10 minutes.

In a large skillet, melt the butter and Sriracha, stirring to combine. Remove the wings from the oven, and quickly add them to the skillet. Toss the chicken around in the hot sauce, and saute for a couple of minutes. Remove the chicken to a platter, and garnish with sesame seeds and thinly sliced green onion.

Ethiopian Beet & Potato Salad (and Bento)

Ethiopian cuisine has wonderful salads. The cool lemony character of this one is quite refreshing, and the two-tone pink and purple appearance is pleasingly cheerful. This recipe is adapted from Meskerem Restaurant (Washington, DC), by way of Epicurious, as well as local versions of the dish as served here in Vancouver. It is vegan, gluten-free, and great for picnics, bento, or any other packed meal.

Ethiopian Beet & Potato Salad

Serves 8 - 10
Total Prep & Cooking Time: 1 hour

450 grams yellow potatoes
450 grams red beet roots
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons peanut oil*
1/2 onion (yellow or red), finely diced
1 jalapeño chile, seeded and finely diced
1/4 - 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, to taste
1/4 teaspoon yellow mustard seeds
Pinch ground fenugreek seeds

Wash and trim the beets, and simmer in a medium saucepan for about 35 - 45 minutes (depending on size), or until tender. Remove the beets from the liquid, and slice in half. Use a paper towel (or three...or a dexterous use of spoons to be waste-free) to remove the skins from the beets – they should just rub right off. Dice into bite-sized pieces. You may want to protect your cutting board from the pink dye in the beets – a couple of layers of waxed paper, or waxed paper over newspaper should work. Protect your hands, too, or you will have pink fingers/nails, although it comes off in a day or so. (Note: you can also roast the beets in foil or parchment instead of simmering them, especially if you happen to have oven on for some other purpose.) Wash all cutting boards etc. right away to minimize stains.

Meanwhile, in a separate saucepan, gently simmer the peeled and bite-sized diced yellow or white or red-skinned potatoes for 20 – 25 minutes, or until tender. Drain the potatoes, and let them dry out a little in the warm pot.

While the beets and potatoes are cooking, dice the onion and jalapeño, and place them in a large serving bowl with the lemon juice and peanut oil. When the potatoes have dried off a little, add them (still warm) to the onion mixture, and gently combine. Add the beets, and stir through until everything is a lovely pink shade. Toast the yellow mustard seeds just until they start popping, then pour them over the salad, along with the salt and fenugreek powder. Stir well to combine. You can make this ahead by a day or three. Keep tightly covered in the refrigerator.

* For peanut allergies, substitute the mild-flavoured vegetable oil of your choice. Canola works well.

My International Bento: Ethiopian edition, contains Berbere-baked chicken drumsticks, Ingudie & Yellow Peas Wat, and Beet & Potato salad. Hearty, and delicious!

Breakfast at home: Breakfast Dog!

Okay, okay. Not a recipe, more of a serving suggestion, really, but in the spirit of the recent spate of breakfast-at-home posts, I couldn't really resist.

Here we have basic bakery hotdog buns filled with European wieners, scrambled eggs, grated aged cheddar, and green onions. You could use ketchup, be we chose sriracha for a little extra kick. Of course, you could tweak the contents to your heart's delight.

For optimal results, I suggest gently steaming (or microwaving) the buns briefly just before filling, which makes them tender and pliable enough to grip all of the fillings.

This was embarrassingly delicious. I would make it again in a heartbeat, if I had the buns and wieners at hand.

Breakfast at home: Blintz-ish Casserole

I was looking for an at-home breakfast to make that stepped outside our regular fare, and stumbled across this recipe for a baked casserole that somewhat resembled a giant blintz. Since our breakfasts are usually savory, except for the odd pancake here and there, it was definitely outside our repertoire. Just to be safe, we added some bacon on the side to ensure we didn't collapse from an all-sweet breakfast.

The casserole was pretty easy to put together - it was ready to go into the oven by the time the oven had finished pre-heating. Essentially, you mix up a crepe-like batter, and layer it in a greased casserole dish with a ricotta-based creamy layer baked right into the middle. On its own it is mild and perhaps slightly bland, but with fresh raspberry sauce spooned overtop (and some bacon on the side), it's both unusual (for us, anyway) and kind of fun.

Now, I think a true "blintz casserole" would involve making up individual blintzes and baking them in a sauce, but the name does sort of capture the spirit of the ingredients, if not the labour-intensive work ethic.

Blintz-ish Casserole
Adapted from The Big Book of Breakfast by Maryana Vollstedt
Serves 4

Filling
70 grams cream cheese (light is fine)
200 ml ricotta or drained mild cottage cheese
1 egg, beaten
1/2 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Batter
1/4 cup melted butter
2 tablespoons sugar
3 eggs
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup orange juice

Fresh Raspberry Sauce
1 cup raspberries*
1 tablespoon sugar (or simple syrup)
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1/4 cup orange juice
1 tablespoon brandy (or orange liqueur, such as Grand Marnier)

Prepare an 8" square baking dish by buttering it, or spritzing it lightly with canola oil. Preheat your oven to 350 F.

Mix together the filling, using an electric mixer, and set aside. If you want an extra bump of flavour and you have a lemon lying about, stir the zest into the filling. A touch of nutmeg might also be nice, but don't go overboard.

In a medium bowl, mix the butter, sugar and eggs and beat well. Add the flour, baking powder, baking soda and orange juice, and beat until smooth. Pour half of the batter into the prepared pan. Gently spoon the filling over the batter, in small dollops, smoothing together gently into a single middle layer. Pour the remaining batter over the top, making sure all of the filing is covered. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top. Cut into squares, and serve with raspberry sauce spooned over.

To make the raspberry sauce, mash half the berries with the sugar in a small saucepan. Combine the orange juice and cornstarch, and mix until smooth. Add to the crushed berries. Heat the mixture, stirring constantly, until bubbly and thick, and the cloudiness from the cornstarch is gone. Remove from the heat, and stir in the whole berries and the brandy. Allow the sauce to cool while the casserole cooks, and serve in a dish or sauceboat for people to serve themselves. Leftover sauce makes a great smoothie base, too.

*Obviously, you can pretty much substitute the berry of your choice here: blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries - peaches or nectarines would be nice, too.

Breakfast at home: Biscuits & Gravy

One of my favourite breakfast foods from the USA is biscuits and gravy. Not a lot of places up here offer it, and of those that do, well, they tend to do it fairly badly - gluey, gloppy stuff, usually without much in the way of sausage meat, sometimes with unanticipated and unwanted alternative seasonings. This is a pity, because anyone ordering biscuits and gravy is not likely to want to be surprised by avant garde seasonings - certainly not without warning.

Biscuits and gravy is a hot, filling breakfast, it's also comfort food at its finest. It doesn't need to be lethally rich, either, especially if you're serving alongside eggs. Easy on the fat - there's plenty of flavour to go around.

I like the name "Sawmill Gravy", but while most people seem to accept pretty much any white sausage gravy as "sawmill", I understand that name belongs more properly to the lumbercamp style of gravy, conditions of which necessitated the use of tinned, evaporated milk. I've also heard "cream gravy", but since I use milk, I'll just stick with "White Sausage Gravy". It's pretty simple, and very delicious.

Make up biscuits according to whatever biscuit bible you adhere to, and make the gravy while they bake up in the oven.

White Sausage Gravy
Serves 4

225-340 grams pork breakfast sausage
3 tablespoons unbleached flour
2 1/2 cups milk (I use 1%)
sprinkle granulated onion
black pepper to taste

Remove casings (if any) from the sausage and break it up into little chunks (chop it with a chef's knife, if you like). In a large skillet, over medium heat, cook and stir the sausage until it's turned the lightest shade of gold, and rendered its fat out. Continue to break down the sausage pieces as you go. Modern sausage can be quite lean, but if you have richer sausage, spoon out all but about a tablespoon. If your sausage was quite plain, you may want to add a tiny pinch each of leaf oregano or marjoram, ground sage, and ground thyme but don't go overboard. The pork should be the star of this show.

Sprinkle the flour over the sausage, and stir it through, scraping the bottom of the pan, until it starts to turn light butterscotch in colour. Then, while stirring constantly, add the milk a little at a time, working the sauce to keep it smooth and lump free. If free-handing makes you nervous, switch to a whisk. Don't pause in moving your spatula or whisk until at least half the milk is incorporated, and then you'll have a little more leeway.

Once all of the milk is in, continue to cook over medium low, so that everything is bubbling gently until the sauce is thickened. Sprinkle the granulated onion over, stir it through, and then taste for salt. I never add extra salt, because there's enough in the sausage, but your mileage may vary, as they say. Grind some black pepper over the pan, turn the heat to low, and continue to stir occasionally. Give it a final taste to adjust the seasonings, split your hot biscuits open, spoon the gravy over, and serve right away. A little extra pepper on top never hurts, either.

Lentil Walnut Salad, and new book review!

I've finally written another diet book review - this time for "Slimmer - The New Mediterranean Way to Lose Weight" by Harry Papas, over in my Much Ado About Diet blog.

Go check out the lovely Lentil Walnut Salad recipe!

Gluten-free tag disclaimer: obviously, leave out the croutons, or choose a gluten-free version, and otherwise label-read as usual.

Chicken Pot Pie, Biscuit Top

I love chicken pot pie. I don't love it when it comes with too many peas, or a leathery, greasy pastry top, but if it has a quality pastry (which hasn't been allowed to get soggy), or better still, a biscuit topping, then it has got to be right up there with my favourite comfort foods.

It's also pretty easy, really. You make a creamy stew with chicken and vegetables of your choice, add the top, and pop it into the oven for a good 25 to 30 minutes on high heat, and voila! What could be better?

Well, I suppose it could be healthier than some of the versions out there, but there's loads of tricks to make the filling lower in fat, and if you use a slightly thinner layer of (lean) biscuit or scone dough over the top, you're setting your setting yourself up nicely to have a guilt-free wallow in a delicious dinner. Or lunch. Or supper. Whatever you want to call it, really.

The biscuit pie methodology works pretty much the same for any filling. Beef stew, chicken stew, vegetable stew - pretty much anything that can take the hit of being in a hot oven for half an hour makes a great biscuit pie. And, if you're the sort of cook who likes convenience and buys packets of biscuits instead of making your own, well, that works too. So really, it's all about the filling.

I like my chicken (or turkey, or pheasant) pies to be creamy, and I like to use kernel corn instead of peas. I also like to have uses for leftover roast chicken, although, to be fair, I have plenty of those already (but another is always welcome). The pie at the top of this post came about after eyeing the recipe in the Cook This, Not That! Kitchen Survival Guide, which I've posted about before. For example, in my last post, Gyoza Stir-Fry. I've made some minor seasoning changes to suit myself, and of course the use of biscuit instead of puff pastry is not from CTNT's receipe.

Chicken Pot Pie, with a Biscuit Crust
Serves 4

1 tablespoon butter
2 cups pearl onions (recipe calls for frozen, which I couldn't find, so I used fresh)
2 medium carrots, diced
2 garlic cloves
2 cups sliced cremini mushrooms
1 cup frozen corn kernels
meat from 2 roasted chicken legs with thighs, skinless, diced
1/4 cup flour
1 teaspoon chicken base (Better than Bouillon)
1 1/2 cups water
1 cup 1% Milk
1/4 cup half & half
1 bay leaf
1/8 teaspoon ground thyme
1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds

Make up the water and chicken base into a hot broth. Rinse corn kernels with hot water, in a sieve, so they drain instantly, and set aside.

Heat the butter in large skillet over med heat. When melted, add the onions, carrots and garlic. Cook until onions are translucent and carrots begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the bay leaf, thyme, and mustard seeds, and stir well. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally for another 5 minutes. Stir in the chicken and the flour, using a silicone spatula or wooden spoon to stir well, so that veggies and meat are evenly coated with flour.

Slowly pour the warm broth in, either using whisk to help avoid clumping, or stirring well with your spoon/spatula while you pour. Once the broth is incorporated, and the sauce is smooth, add the milk (does not need to be warmed, but can be) and simmer for 10-15 minutes or until the sauce is thickened. Stir in corn. Season with salt and pepper, as needed.

Mix up your biscuit dough and roll out to fit the top of the casserole dish you will be using. Slice the biscuit into quarters, or leave it as one big sheet (if so, use a fork to poke some steam-release holes).

Heat over to 400 F. Pour chicken into a 1 1/2 quart casserole dish, and cover with the biscuit dough. Bake uncovered for 20-25 minutes until golden brown. If your casserole is really full, place a tray under to catch any drips, or you will need to spend some of your evening cleaning your oven floor!

Gyoza Stir-Fry

This recipe is my version of the Chicken Pot Stickers in the highly useful Cook This Not That! Kitchen Survival Guide by David Zinczenko and Matt Goulding. It is fast, tasty, and relatively healthy. It makes a light meal, so if you want something more substantial, you might consider serving it over rice or noodles, but it's also good simply on its own.

To be sure, it's more of a recipe concept, since it revolves around a pre-made ingredient (the pot stickers themselves), but you can easily outfox that by making your own dumplings. I've gone with my favourite recipe for pork gyoza, a Japanese-style dumpling that is kissing-cousin to the Chinese pot sticker, making up a batch of 36 dumplings. The stir-fry recipe calls for 24, leaving me 12 to stash in the freezer. If you don't want to do that, there's always the ones from the freezer section of the supermarket, totally up to you.

The stir-fry, then, is pretty much self-explanatory from the photo above:

You start by par-cooking the frozen dumplings for a couple of minutes in boiling water (you could also steam them), although if you're using freshly made non-frozen dumplings, you can skip this step and just add a couple of minutes to the stir fry time.

Next, heat a small amount of sesame oil in a large non-stick skillet, and add some sliced shittake mushrooms, a couple of cups' worth. A few shreds of fresh ginger are great at this point, too, but not necessary. Stir fry those for a minute or two, then add the dumplings, cooking for 2 or 3 minutes per side until browned.

Add a couple of cups of trimmed snap peas (or snow peas, if you prefer) for one more minute of cooking, then remove from the heat and stir in a tablespoon of low sodium soy sauce, a tablespoon of rice vinegar, and however much sriracha you fancy (more sriracha can be used as a condiment, of course).

Stir it all through, and divide between four bowls. Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds (I use a combination of black and white sesame seeds, because I like the effect) and throw a sliced green onion on top for a burst of fresh flavour. I totally forgot the onion in the above picture, as you can see - it's not necessary, it is tasty.

Easy, yes? If you have the dumplings already in the freezer (one way or another), it only takes about 15 minutes to make, including waiting for the water to boil for the dumplings, and prepping the vegetables.

Aloo Matar (Dry) and Samosa Pie

My generalized dislike of green peas is almost legendary in my family, even though by age 10 or so I had conceded that peas in the context of a dish that was not only about the peas was entirely acceptable. I fell for snap peas and snow peas early and hard, as most kids do, but the pyramid of naked green peas as the vegetable du jour remains on my least beloved list. Split peas, however, were never on my bad list, as I've always categorized of them more as a lentil than anything else.

When I cook with peas, I tend toward using snow peas or snap peas, and I like them equally well (slightly) cooked or raw. I don't usually buy frozen peas, because I have so little use for them. However, I can think of a few uses for peas where they really shine, and the dish wouldn't be the same without them: 1) My mother's Spring chicken noodle soup, 2) raw in a salad or straight out of the garden (shelled, of course), and 3) potato-pea samosa filling.

Lately, I've found myself eyeing every restaurant listing for samosas that I can find. I prefer to know ahead of time what style of samosa is available, so I usually need to ask questions. Phyllo is not my favourite pastry for the samosa oeuvre, nor is puff pastry - the first being too shattery (or leathery), and the second being too rich and too thick. Since I am both fundamentally lazy and afraid of frying things, I decided that I should simply make one big samosa - i.e. a pie - using my usual all-purpose pastry shell, and make up my own filling: potato and pea, of course - my favourite samosa.

Having never made samosas before, I started looking at recipes for fillings and concluded that they were simply a dry aloo matar (mattar, muttar, mutter), and simply made up my own recipe as I went along. I was thrilled with the filling, and happily mounded it into the pie crust to bake in the oven.

The samosa pie was quite pretty, I think, and absolutely delicious - with one caveat: the peas were overcooked. Now, this wasn't the end of the world (although overcooking peas is a kind of tragedy) largely because I have an aggressive hand with the seasoning, which concealed some of the sins of overcooking. Now that I've considered the problem (and re-heated leftover pie a few times) I think I have the solution. Cook everything but the peas, allow the filling to cool, stir in frozen peas, mound into pastry shell and bake. As I was starting with a hot filling, and then baking it at 425 F for 45 minutes, of course the peas got overdone. But with a pre-cooked, cool or cold filling, and frozen peas, the outcome should be much better. I will be sure to report back when I try it again.

If you are not making pie, however, and just want a delicious, substantial dry curry, follow the directions for the peas below.

Aloo Matar

Serves 6—8

4 large yellow potatoes (about 2.75 lbs / 1300 g) peeled and diced medium
1/2 red onion, finely diced
1 cup frozen peas
2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
1 tablespoon olive oil or mustard oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon masala of your choice (garam, tandoori, madras, etc.)
1 teaspoon yellow mustard seeds
2 teaspoons ground coriander seed
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon cayenne (or more)
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger (or equivalent fresh)
pinch of ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (less if your masala contains salt)
pinch of turmeric if you want a yellow-y colour boost (not pictured)

Set the peeled and diced potatoes to cook until tender - about 10 minutes for simmering. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat the olive oil and saute the onion and garlic until translucent. If you want, you can add some finely diced hot chiles here, too. Add the cumin seeds and mustard seeds, and about half the rest of the seasonings (you can mix all of the ground seasonings together beforehand). Add the frozen peas, stir and saute until the peas are all nicely covered with the oily spices, and either turn off the burner or set on a very low flame until the potatoes are ready. When the potatoes are fork-tender, drain them in a colander and spoon them into the skillet. Sprinkle the rest of the spices evenly over the potatoes and, using a spatula, carefully fold the potatoes through the peas mixture until everything looks evenly distributed. Serve with mango or tamarind chutney.

As always, feel free to tinker with the spices to best suit your tastes.

For Samosa pie, make the filling as above, omitting the peas. Cool the potato filling, stir in the frozen peas, and mound into the pastry shell of your choice. Bake at 450 F for 40 - 45 minutes, checking periodically, or until the crust is a lovely golden brown. For gluten free and/or vegan, you will need to accommodate those factors in your choice of pie crust, naturally, but the filling meets both requirements on its own.

Miso Halibut Cheeks

I know this looks like yet another pasta recipe, but really it's about the lovely bit of fish perched on top of the gingered noodles. The noodles could easily have been a bowl of Japanese rice, and possibly will be, next time.

You may have noticed that I do not tend to post a lot of fish or seafood recipes, and when I do they are usually for prawns, which is hands-down the most common type of seafood cookery for me. There is a reason for this: When I was a child, I had an allergic/food sensitivity reaction to finned fish. Shellfish were fine, but rare in our household, so I learned to like them without any adverse effects intruding. For finned fish, however, I grew to hate even the smell in the air, raw or cooked, however fresh. I would try to hold my breath in disgust, as I angrily ate my fried egg while the rest of the family had fish. When I eventually grew out of the physiological reaction to fish, I had no idea how to cook it, and little desire to learn, because the smell was so off-putting.

Sushi was the thing that broke the barrier for me, in the late 1980s. I started with the predictable California rolls, and eventually worked up my courage to try the others. The Japanese preparations tended to control the objectionable fishiness quite excellently. From there, I found myself eating fish as part of elaborate tasting menus at places like (the now-defunct) Lumiere, where elegant little morsels of sablefish might be cooked with sake and maple foam, for example. Tiny portions just right for sampling and exploring, which opened the door to other cooked fish preparations. When I started ordering fish in fine dining restaurants during departmental lunches for work, it was a real eye-opener in terms of how skilled preparation and bright flavours can make all of the difference. I even learned to like fish and chips (although I am particular about what fish it is, preferring mild, creamy white fish).

So, finally, when I saw the Miso Cod recipe in Cook This Not That! Kitchen Survival Guide, I was intrigued. I prefer halibut to cod, so that's what I hand in mind when I went to my local fish monger, The Daily Catch. They had halibut fillet, no surprise, but they also had halibut cheeks, and I knew in a blazing flash that they would be perfect for this dish. Halibut cheeks are boneless, which is part of the appeal, but they also possess a sort of delicacy of texture that appeals to me.

The recipe also included the marinated cucumbers shown to the side of the fish, which were a simple preparation of salt, sugar, rice vinegar and chile flakes that I enjoyed, but found overly salty. The spinach and sesame salad (goma ae) was thrown together to use up some spinach.

Miso Halibut Cheeks
Adapted from Cook This Not That! Kitchen Survival Guide
Serves 4

4 medium halibut cheeks (about 4 oz. each)
1/2 cup white miso (shiro miso)
2 tablespoons mirin
2 tablespoons sake
1 tablespoon brown sugar

Combine the miso, mirin, sake, and sugar in a non-reactive bowl that is large enough to also hold the fish. Rinse and pat dry the halibut cheeks, and add them to the miso mixture, turning gently to ensure that each piece is well coated. Cover well, and refrigerate for up to 12 hours.

Preheat your broiler with a rack set at 15 cm (6 inches) below the flame, and prepare an edged baking sheet by lining it with foil and misting with cooking oil. Remove the halibut cheeks from the miso, and place, evenly spaced, on the prepared sheet. Brush a little extra miso mixture over the top of each cheek, to ensure it is evenly coated. Broil, watching carefully, for about 8 - 12 minutes, depending on your broiler, removing when the miso glaze begins to caramelize, and the fish begins to flake under gentle pressure. Garnish with a sprinkle of black sesame seeds.

Halibut cheeks may be a little pricy, depending on where you live, but fillet, such as in the original recipe, or any other mild, creamy white fish should work nicely - check out Ocean Wise for any other fishies you might want to use. My fish monger is an Ocean Wise partner, and only uses sustainable seafood, which is reassuring because I don't need to do in-shop analysis before I pick my fish.