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Martin Hesp

Discovering a Culinary Treasure Trove That Began With Sardinian Gold

Discovering a Culinary Treasure Trove That Began With Sardinian Gold

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Why don’t more people in the world salt down, dry and press fish roe? That was a question I dearly wanted answering recently after I’d tasted a morsel sometimes known as Sardinian Gold.

I been reduced to a state of near speechlessness as I savoured and appreciated its deep and wonderful flavour. 

Dining out in Cagliari

Dining out in Cagliari


I admit that it was late at night and that a great many glasses of fabulous Sardinian wine had gone down the hatch in one of the most wonderful restaurants in which it’s been my pleasure to dine for years. But anyway, my thought processes in that ancient eating-house in historic Cagliari went something like this…

“In all my years I have never tasted anything like this before. Why not? If these few, powerful, thin, golden, shards - which are flavouring an entire celery salad - are made of nothing but salted, dried and pressed grey mullet roe, why on earth aren’t we making this stuff in the UK?”  

I have searched the internet and found plenty of imported vac-packed bottarga (to give this salted fish roe its universal name) for sale, but so far have located none made in the UK. Which seems a great pity, as there are plenty of grey mullet in our waters that would provide the basic means. It’s not a fish you’ll find on any endangered species list - the humble mullet gets a full five-out-of-five in the Marine Conservation Society’s sustainability rating. 

Cagliari in the evening
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If there are people making and selling bottarga here, I apologise - please let me know about your product. In the meantime, I would recommend fish-lovers to try it by purchasing a small pack off the internet - although I will warn you that it’s not called Sardinian Gold for nothing. 

Anyway, bottarga is just another example of certain foodstuffs which appear in a long list I compile when I travel abroad on journeys of culinary discovery. A list which is added to when I end up thinking: “This is a very delicious thing to eat - and it’s made of something simple that we have at home. So why is it we don’t have a similar dish or ingredient in the UK? Why did the poor folk of yesteryear not have such traditions - because this kind of peasant food would have helped them survive in hard times?”

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I once interviewed an old Scillonian fisherman who told me that back in the day he’d seine-net the straits between Bryher and Tresco and catch so many mullet they didn’t know what to do with them. At the same time, I have read reports of the early Scillonian folk living in near starvation conditions. Is there something I’m not getting here? Fish roe is nutritious in the extreme, even if it is preserved in salt. Why weren’t the Scillonians salting down the mullet roe? Why isn’t there a Cornish bottarga tradition?

If you want to visit an island that does exactly the opposite - a place which goes the extra mile in preparing and preserving every single ounce of edible substance when it’s on hand or in-season - then try Sardinia. I’ll be even more explicit: take the quick flight down to Cagliari having looked up the Charming Accommodation group on the internet (http://www.cagliariaccommodations.com)…

I recommend this loose grouping of boutique hotels and B&B establishments because their individual owners work together to help and advise visitors so they can get the very best, most authentic, experiences - the kind of tips which you’d never be given in a larger conventional hotel or an Airbnb.

It was a gang of representatives from this group - lead by my new pal Enrico Cao who manages a wonderful B&B called The Place in the heart of Cagliari - who took me to the aforementioned restaurant and then started ordering local delicacies. 

I think - but cannot be sure - that I eventually wailed the words “No more! Please no more!” after the 15th course. The food at Su Tzilleri’e su Doge - an ancient restaurant built into the even more ancient city fortifications up on Cagliari’s main hill overlooking the port - was superb. 

And every single dish cooked by owner Claudio Ara was specifically Sardinian, and more probably a speciality from the island’s southern region. Certainly, every ingredient came from within 20 kilometres of the city. 

And here’s the thing… We are not talking posh food like beef steaks or prime cuts of local tuna. Almost all the things we ate came from the nose-to-tail ethos of cooking, and so included items that were not for the faint hearted. 

For example, after the bottarga and celery salad we were served a single pot of fish balls bobbing in boiling oil. On closer inspection I realised they were a kind of fishy faggot - and learned that various bits and bobs of edible flesh like the cheeks and heart had been minced together and wrapped in the washed lining of a fish’s stomach. If this sounds grim, all I can say is that these morsels were light and spectacularly delicious. And again, I found myself wondering why the UK has no tradition of what you could call fish-faggots?

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To be honest, this gargantuan meal, became a bit of a blur after that - but I do remember eating pasta with sea urchin roe (OK, so we don’t have much in the way of sea urchins in UK waters), various small clams and other assorted shellfish, mountain snails and tripe. 

And what tripe it was… Nothing like the white meaty chewing gum I was fed as a child. This was soft, melt-in-the-mouth stuff - big on savouriness, small on chew-ability.  

So tripe goes into a slightly different listing for me. One where the British do have a tradition of eating the stuff, but somehow we’ve managed to consign it to history. With the rather ironic exception that the washed stomach lining of a beef animal is nowadays served at a handful of very posh UK restaurants. 

The next day Enrico took me to Cagliari’s central market - a foodie Mecca which is said to include the largest wet-fish section of any market in Italy. What can I say about Mercato di San Benedetto? There were ingredients here - like razor clams all prepared and ready for the pot - that you simply cannot buy anywhere in England and yet which grow here.  

Walking around this market was like visiting 300 seafood delicatessens.  And that was only the start because upstairs we explored several acres of meat, charcuterie, poultry and vegetable market. 

Anyway, back in the UK I am now I’m on a hunt for a grey mullet with a nice big fat roe I can cure.

FACT FILE

Martin stayed with Charming Accommodations: https://www.facebook.com/cagliariaccommodations/ — at one of their B&Bs, the J&O' Luxury Suite (https://www.bedandbreakfast.eu/bed-and-breakfast-it/cagliari/j-o-luxury-suite/3964617/

His informative local guide, Enrico, manages The Place - for information email info@theplacecagliari.com or visit www.theplacecagliari.com.

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