I have always been fascinated with eel, and not only from an eating perspective. While all ingredients have a story to tell, the story of eel is epic, with a 20-year life cycle that begins in the Sargasso Sea. What follows makes the eel the most mysterious fish in the world. Every year the larvae travel from their spawning grounds in the Sargasso Sea to Europe, a 6000 kilometre (3728 mile) journey along the Gulf Stream, which can take up to three years. They arrive in Europe in the winter – where they are known as ‘glass eels’ due to their transparent bodies – swimming upstream to begin their adult development. Ten years later, the eels return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn and die, thus starting the cycle again.
In the Basque country, glass eels are known as angulas and are worth their weight in gold, with each fish costing approximately one euro. While this doesn’t seem much to pay for a whole fish, each juvenile specimen only weighs a gram, so a small bowl would typically set you back 100 euros … needless to say it is the best seafood spaghetti you will eat in your life.
At Etxebarri, the start of the eel season was always awaited with eager anticipation. Traditionally they would be double cooked: blanched to remove the mucous membrane and then fried with chilli and garlic. While delicious, angulas often lose their unique texture and flavour in the process. Stored live they can survive in both fresh and salt water, but we found they survived best under a man-made waterfall with spring water channelled from the local mountain. We then killed them with a tobacco infusion (water infused with tobacco leaves), which saw them expel their mucous membrane, before washing them in spring water. They were then grilled directly in a basket over the embers. When it came to angulas, time stood still; they were so delicate and revered that everyone stopped whatever they were doing for the brief 45 seconds it took to cook them.
Such reverence for the eel is only matched by the Japanese. With their predilection for mastering just one skill, they have entire restaurants dedicated solely to preparing eel, and consume both saltwater (anagi) and freshwater (unagi) eel. The Japanese, however, import the baby eels and fatten them as if they're the wagyu of the sea until they are plump for the grill. They receive precise execution (ike-jime, page 246), as do all their fish. This is followed by unparalleled knife skills: the fish is split down the back, gutted and boned, butterflied and cut into square fillets. The eel then undergoes an extensive preparation involving skewering, steaming to remove excess fat, lacquering with a sweet soy sauce–based glaze and then grilling, more lacquering and more grilling. Known as kabayaki, the resulting fish is crisp on the outside and soft, fatty and tender on the inside.
The following preparation of eel pays a respectful nod to both cultures and is in accordance with how I like the majority of my seafood – killed, grilled and served immediately. While sansho pepper is a traditional Japanese seasoning for eel, the vibrant colour and tangy flavour of Australian native tamarind balances the fatty eel.