If you set out to design a dish that showcased the culinary strengths of Ireland, a dish that heralded the magnificent fish, shellfish and seaweeds from Atlantic waters, that sang the praises of a grass-based agriculture system that produces peerless dairy products, and which also tipped the hat to the country’s obsession with potatoes, then that dish would be chowder.
Spuds, seafood, milk and cream: what an A-team! “I adore chowder, especially with a pint of stout”, says Aishling Moore, author of Whole Catch, and chef-patron at Cork’s Goldie Restaurant.
“It’s the perfect Irish recipe, and a fantastic example of how there's plenty more uses than just the prime fillet section of fish.”
Which makes the mystery of why we don’t have a range of world-beating chowders in our culinary arsenal even more perplexing.
We are not alone. More than fifty years go, the great English restaurateur and food writer Margaret Costa, in her Four Seasons Cookery Book, wrote “One of the strangest paradoxes in our cookery is that, apart from a few traditional Scottish dishes, we have no fish soups…”
Those Scottish dishes are based around one of Scotland’s hero products, Finan Haddie, the smoked haddock that underpins the dish of Cullen Skink. You find chowders and classic seafood soups wherever a hero product is being used: clams on the North East coast of America; the scorpion fish rascasse which perfumes the bouillabaisse of Marseille; lake fish from the West Lake of Hangzhou for Mrs Song’s fish geng; the cuttlefish and squid of the Livornese cacciucco.
None of these iconic dishes are beyond our reach to replicate, or to learn from. We have the seafood, and we have the fish smokers, but our imagination stumbles somewhere along the way, which means you can often wind up being served a chowder that is little more than farmed salmon floating in a sea of cream.
Trawling for a great chowder would also help us to solve the issue of piscine sustainability. Consider this: if you ask your friendly fishmonger for some monkfish, he will reach for the tail fillet. Ask the friendly fishmonger in Osaka for monkfish, and he will lay out seven possibilities: the tail fillet, of course, but also the skin, stomach, liver, ovary, gills and fin.
Where we see a single outcome, the Japanese food lover sees no fewer than seven possibilities from the same fish.
If you have ever wondered why every French deli sells jars of ochre-tinted soupe de poissons, it is because that is what you do with a fish carcass: roast the frame and head, simmer it with aromatics and vegetables, then strain it and bottle it and put it on the shelf. The great peasant food cultures never waste so much as a morsel.
As Aishling Moore points out, “Making chowder makes the best use of the trim, so from that aspect I think it's been our most frugal approach to seafood. Even better is the fact that it’s a luxury product that isn't associated as such.”
Chowder is fascinating also inasmuch as it is an example of an emotional dish: it attracts people who crave the flavour profile of a chowder made with fresh fish, smoked fish and shellfish.
It is the soup that is also a meal-in-itself. To finish the meal, chowder needs only a slice of soda bread and, you know what?, we can kind of do that as well.
And when a chowder is good, it is very good indeed. Something about the assembly of ingredients creates a powerful magic, that “hug in a bowl” umami zing that satisfies like few other culinary creations. We love chowder because it almost seems to love us.
“The perfect chowder for me includes some naturally smoked fish”, says Aish Moore. “And a little shellfish is always welcomed. The depth of flavour from mussel stock is key for me and it’s how I'd always make chowder at home. My preference is to go easy on the cream, and rely on the starch of the potatoes.”
Ireland should be the chowder capital of the world, and Ireland could be the chowder capital of the world. Over the last 35 years we have seen Irish food metamorphose from zero to hero. We need to unite the fish in the sea with the potato in the field and the succulence of pastured milk and cream and realise the potential of this bounteous blessing. The time to start is, like, now. Many have already started. There is a wealth of great chowders out there. We want to celebrate them.
Finding Ireland’s Best Bowl of Chowder
To celebrate and promote Irish Seafood Chowder, we have teamed up with soup enthusiasts Cully & Sully to create the SOUPerb Awards 2024. From this month on, everyone is welcome to cast their vote for a place that they believe creates Ireland’s best chowder. We’re looking for great chowders, whether they’re served in a pub, a food truck, hotel, cafe or restaurant.
To cast your vote, for an establishment, or indeed for yourself if you cook and serve a chowder, you can find the instructions on the lids of the limited edition Cully & Sully soup tubs and follow the instructions provided. Alternatively, simply visit cullyandsully.com. We will enjoy bringing you the results as they come in.
Photo by Mike O’Toole, Food Styling Anne Marie Tobin, taken from MILK by John & Sally McKenna published with the NDC Ireland.