The first non-virtual  edition  of 500 examples  of  Five  recipes with monk fish liver , by Victor Nubla, was printed the 22th  of december of 1999 at the ‘Estamperia’, Monistrol street, nr  17, Gràcia, Barcelona.
The second edition was released in 2004.
 

Foreword by Llorenç Torrado
 illustrations: Io Casino
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

LIVER AS A BASIS
 
 
 

Lying flat at the bottom of the ocean, totally identifying with the sand, integrated. Monk fish, with its liver, emerges like an emanation of the enlarged gland turned into flesh in order to contain it  and into feeding organs. Motionless. Not even the most naive could ever believe that its thumpy tail is, in fact, its propeller. Try only to establish a relationship with its impossible head. The monk fish, like some cranky individuals, bull-dogs for example, hide kinder insides. But you shouldn’t trust either.
The head of the monk fish is, in fact, a mouth. A mouth surrounded by a head turned into a sharp-edged funnel filled with upturned hooks that signal the unavoidable path to the bottom, the deepest bottom, in order to feed the liver and its flesh.
Luckily for us not many nations appear to enjoy it. The French don’t show any interest, but regardless of their reputation the French don’t know anyhing about fish. Not even the English cheer up when confronted with a monk fish, although it may seem that they should be familiar with the subject. Let’s be clear about it: fish is mediterranian and japanese. The flesh of a monk fish is sweet, aromatic, compact, turgent and flexible, boneless, slightly gelatinous and not at all fatty. Very good when cooked in a sauce but disappointing if grilled. Within this body, flat and indolent, the liver grows thick and fat, enormous, wrapped up in a gut proportional to the huge mouth and to the merciless funneled throat. Continuously fed, the monk fish is a machine made exclusively to eat just as the tuna fish is made for velocity. A liver fed in earnest by its owner comes to be creamy, surprisingly light, tasting more like seafood than fish. More sea-like.
 
 
 

Llorenç Torrado
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

MONK FISH LIVER
 
 
 

At home, along with the enormous monk fish head, its equally large hepatic gland is sold to make fish broth at prices different to those paid for the tail and for its white, special flesh. A viscera little appreciated by our culture which Japan pays dearly for  and treats as a delicatessen, sold in small glass jars, as if truffles, previously smoked. If you try to buy it in the Basque Country you will find that monk fish reach the markets without their livers, given that it’s there where the Japanese buy them in large amounts. The taste doesn’t differ much from that of other fish, but its extraordinary size propitiates the possibility of a dish - perhaps not very filling- for the whole family, provided a little imagination is applied. Staple market food that makes a good substitute for other less desirable offals of mammals and birds, which years ago had so much nutritious value, but that nowadays gastronomes and dietitians do not recommend any longer. A type of food that can be cooked with the fresh liver, without need for smoking it or preserving it in any other previous way.
We hereby propose several recipes bearing this philosophy in mind, as a result of the romance that we sustain in our home with this viscera since a couple of years. To be sure, it’s a relationship not approved by its owner. However, at this stage a warning should be issued as to the content of this publication which can be offensive for:

1. Those who don’t eat animals
2. Those who eat animals provided the original shape goes unnoticed or the taste is not overpowering

With all due respect to those in the first group, here are the recipes for monk fish liver that we have been inventing at home in the few past years.
 
 
 

1. Battered monk fish liver

 The first thing you do when you have some monk fish liver in front of you is to admire its delicate texture and ask yourself if the fine membrane that contains this viscera will desintegrate upon contact with the heat and the entire liver will spread on the frying-pan (as it does, for example, with hake roe when making ‘tarama’). Since the liver of a monk fish is of a respectable size, it seems inevitable to have to cut it and, whether filleted or diced, it’s necessary to do so with a sharp knife. The easiest way to start with is to batter it, that is to say, coated with white flour and egg. We will proceed as we usually do at home - that is, coat with batter and fry - for battered brains, an offal which shares many qualities of texture and taste with the liver of one of the ugliest and most delicious fish known. And bear in mind that fish is not fed with hormone-filled stockfood!

So then, if we dip the diced bits in white flour and afterwards in beaten egg and fry them with clean piping-hot oil, we will have a first-class appetizer, provided we eat them straightaway. We could opt for a simpler method by coating with flour only or adding garlic and parsley to the eggs, as Io Casino proposes. As you already know, mayonnaise suits fried food such as this. It’s all about variations on the same theme, as is the following the recipe.
 
 
 
 
 

2. Crumbled monk fish liver

Ramon Bigas suggested this idea at Rupià, when we were going to prepare some magnificent livers purchased at the Palamós fish market, that is, simply slicing them into fine wide fillets and dipping them first in the beaten egg and then coating in bread crumbs. It’s important that the crumbs are fine and, as usual, the oil piping-hot. A delicious dish if served with grilled vegetables.
The strong flavour of the monk fish liver is an acquired one, and for many, a pinch of salt in the batter is mandatory, though not for me.
 
 

It seems impossible that such fine texture could endure the same treatment that we would give, for example, to codfish, but it does. To begin with I swiftly swapped the frying-pan for a claypot and made a sofrito of tomato with leek and green pepper. I very much like to use the green part of the leek for this. And as usual in these cases, it’s all about adding the products according to texture (my mom taught me this way), so that everything is done right and nothing ends out burnt or underdone. First, the leek and the pepper, afterwards the tomato and two cloves of garlic chopped small.
When we talk about a sofrito we mean patience, given that everything must be done step by step and reach a “carmelized” consistency, as my ex neighbour Miquel would say. Mantaining the discipline of a steady fire is a must. If we use canned tomato, we should balance its sharpness with some sugar and add also a pinch of salt. As far as aromatics go, the classic bayleaf (attention, no more than one or two) or a sprig of rosemary.

In the meantime, we will have seared the liver fillets in a frying-pan with very hot oil (it’s not necessary to coat them with flour), adding to the casserole when the sofrito proves right, with that familiar aroma which emanates from kitchens and brightens lunchtime in the neighbourhoods. A coffee-cup filled with hot fish broth must be added at this point. When it evaporates and everything acquires the desired consistency, turn the heat off and let stand so as to allow the flavours to stabilise, to deepen and to merge.
 
 

4. Roasted monk fish liver

The wintery feeling about this recipe has probably to do with its austerity and its rich-resulting colours. It was a total event to discover that the monk fish liver endured a test like this one. We’ll stick to the claypot and this time will be generous with the oil in which we will allow for two unpeeled cloves of garlic per person, to which we have made a slit with a knife so they don’t pop, and a small spoonful of ground paprika. We’ll also add some sprigs of thyme and, when the oil is smoking hot,  carefully place the fillets of liver and discover that they don’t stick. Such magnificent experience will bring back our self-confidence and tempt us to add a small glass of white wine. The flame should be moderate and it’s a good idea to flip the fillets over so they roast thoroughly. We will allow for the wine to evaporate and will serve the fillets together with the garlic. One day we accompanied these roasted fillets with wine and a dense reduction of tomato and carrot that Io Casino prepared and that, as I’ve been told, it’s used for the ‘osobucco’. It was a complete success.

5. Monk fish liver paté (with the inestimable collaboration of Albert Mirats)

To celebrate that year zero didn’t exist and that therefore 1999 merely is the second to the last year of the millennium, we have left the most elaborate of these recipes for the end so as to present it at the table on a special night.
We will begin by having a nice conversation with an onion, well selected among those at home at that particularmoment. Without it representing an underestimation of the onion, we will have to roast it separately, which will improve it no end and, in the meantime, we will do the same with 750 gr. of monk fish livers, accompanied by two sprigs of thyme, some cloves, basil, rosemary and sage either powdered or whole (maximum a teaspoon of each). We will add salt at will. We will now find ourselves faced with two simultaneous operations that conclude naturally when both roasts achieve the optimal desired state. We will let it cool and proceed to beat a half a dozen eggs in the meantime. Back to the roasts: pat them dry quite thoroughly.
The moment has now arrived to mince the liver and to mix it with the onion, the eggs, a quart of boiled cream, a glass of brandy, white pepper and sweet paprika, as desired, and 100 gr. of lard. We have to obtain a homogeneous mass. We will pour it into the mould which we have previously smeared with gelatine and will place in the oven at 150º C for 20 minutes in a Bain Marie. When it’s set, sprinkle with crushed almonds and keep in the refrigerator. There’s no rush to eat it, since a good rest in the cold suits it very well.