Flounders and samphire

Enjoyed a couple of fresh flounder for dinner, scattered with samphire.

The marshy shores of Wigtown Bay, and of other places along the Dumfries and Galloway coastline, make for happy homes for countless flounders. In fact, until 2009, the World Flounder Tramping Championships took place at Palnackie. These attracted up to 350 competitors and large sums were raised for the Royal National Lifeboat Institute.

However, the championships, though still wildly popular were finally sunk by Britain's “compensation culture” and the last event took place in 2009. Insurance premiums had risen to ridiculous levels and po-faced officialdom frowned on seeing people enjoying themselves, muttering instead about health and safety.

The method used in the championship, and still used by sensible people today, is to walk barefoot along the shallows, feeling for the fish with your toes. When you find one, you stand on it and stab it with a metal trident known as a “Leister.” Half the fun of this type of fishing is, of course, driving the trident through your foot rather than through the flounder, giving masses of amusement to your mates.

I bought two flounders for a pound each at the Smokehouse. I also picked up a bag of marsh samphire. This is delicious, growing, not surprisingly, in the sea marshes. Tiny little stalks and nice and sea salty. You can just wash it and eat it raw. Or sauté it quickly in butter. It is great to scatter over fish and seafood dishes, baked potatoes, pasta, or anything needing a bit of a lift. Add some oil and vinegar if you like.

Samphire has been eaten in Britain from the mists of history and Shakespeare mentions it in King Lear. It also used to be important in Medieval times in the production of glass and soap, an alternative name being Glasswort. The name Samphire is thought to come from the French for “Saint Pierre”, the fisherman apostle Saint Peter.

I cooked the flounders by frying them for a few minutes in butter, with a generous splodge of sherry.

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