An extraordinarily good way with chicory

This is a story that illustrates two great truths about cooking, firstly, that often it will go wrong and more importantly, that fabulous alchemy that a really great recipe displays - of simple ingredients simply prepared that produce something ridiculously tasty.

So, I was feeling vaguely fishy this week but a combination of sheer laziness and circumstance meant that Aldi was going to be the extent of my market place. Which left me with two rather sad looking trout to do something with. To be frank the trout was not a success, I decided to bake it with lemon and dill and to serve with an old stand-by of mine, a variation of the creme fraiche-citrus-herb theme. Take it from me, don't serve even really crappy trout with creme fraiche. Were I to do it again I'ld keep the dill and capers and incorporate them into a dressing based either on vinegar or lemon but the fish needs something sharp and clean rather than anything in any way luscious. So the star of my meal bombed but salvation occurred in the form of the side I was eating with it, the chicory (which I'm in possession of because it was it was the last packet left in Superquinn and was reduced to Eur1.40, oh sweet serendipitous chance).

To make really amazing chicory:

Chicory
Salt
Pepper
Olive oil (decent if you have it)
Unsuccessful fish sauce:
Creme fraiche
Lemon Juice
Capers
Salt and pepper

1)Loosen the creme fraiche with the lemon juice to a thick pouring consistency and then add more salt and pepper than you think you're likely to need.
2)Add 1 tsp of capers for every two (heaped) of creme fraiche, you could chop them if you fancy but I can't say I was bothered.
3)Remove a half inch at the root of each chicory and cut length-ways in half.
4)Drizzle each half with the oil, season enthusiastically and pour a couple of teaspoons of the creme fraiche mixture on top.
5)Put under a very hot grill for about five minutes until the creme fraiche has browned and the edges of the chicory are blackening very slightly.

And you come out the other end with pure magic.

Through one of those vaguely ominous but almost certainly meaningless motifs, strawberries and fish frequently occur in my life together. In this case the strawberries arrived on the scene through the agency of a two for one honey-trap offer in Superquinn. So I finished my decadent, dilettante little repast with a deeply drinkable sparkling rose (Aldi Eur8.99 - worth every red cent) while polishing off half a pound of surprisingly good strawberries (which will almost certainly give me hives, mais c'est la vie). The presence of the bottle of wine will quite probably mean that I will wake up tomorrow to the presence of rather a lot of fishy dishes. If there is any sense no mind justice in the world, some day someone, who considers that washing dishes in return for being well fed to be a good deal, will marry me. But only those who consider chickpeas 'real food' and don't sermonise people for consuming perfectly reasonable quantities of bloody good single malt need apply.