CHRIS RUNDLE

GONE ARE THE DAYS WHEN MONKFISH WAS SIMPLY CHOPPED UP AND SERVED AS SCAMPI, SAYS CHRIS RUNDLE

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AND to think, all we used to do was chop it up and call it scampi. I refer, of course, to monkfish. A creature of the sea which is now more highly valued than ever, partly because of its versatility, partly because of its texture.

For years monkfish was landed and delivered straight to the processors who would trim it and put it through a machine which stamped its edible parts into chunks. These were then floured, dipped into batter and deep-fried, emerging as ersatz prawns - and few people noticed the difference.

What made it all possible, of course, was the total absence of bones in the flesh: instead, monkfish fillets are taken off a central rib of cartilage and there isn’t a bone in sight. That makes it a highly unusual piscine specimen but merely underlines the fact that it is a relatively easy one to prepare and cook at home.

The other outstanding feature of monkfish is that roughly 80 per cent of it must be thrown away to get to the usable bits. In the unlikely event of you encountering one in its natural state you will understand why. It's roughly 60 per cent head: a head consisting mainly of an enormous, gaping mouth lined with needle-like teeth, the whole topped by a pair of staring eyes. Display that on a fish stall - at least in this country where we are slightly nervous of such things - and small children would probably start to cry and have to be comforted, and the appearance would be the greatest disincentive to sales you could imagine.