Saumon en papillotte

A long time ago, and possibly in a far-away galaxy, the term "en papillote" was used to describe a chunk of meat that was seasoned and then wrapped in a bit of heavy-duty paper, sealed hermetically (well, as far as possible - you'd be surprised what can be done when folding paper, chefs learn how to do it properly) and then baked in the oven, where it would cook in its own juices and steam.

In these degenerate days most people only have toilet paper around, which is not particularly good for this sort of thing, as it goes soggy. So instead, we use pastry - phyllo, in this case. (Which comes, incidentally, with various spellings: filo, phylo, phyllo - your choice.)

Whatever, today I made salmon in not-toilet-paper, which is better. The unfortunate thing is that while you're getting it ready you absolutely will not have time to drink, sorry. Sophie poured me a glass of rosé and I swear that I didn't touch it for twenty minutes.

On the upside, it requires no exotic ingredients. Just salmon and phyllo, and a few bits and pieces that you're bound to have in the fridge anyway.

Starting with the salmon, you'll need what in France is called a "pavé de saumon" per person. This is just a big chunk of a salmon fillet, should have no bones - about 150-200 gm apiece. But unless your fishmonger is very understanding, you might have to remove the skin yourself. Which is no great deal if you have a sharp knife, separate the skin from the flesh at the thick (backbone) end of the pavé, then pull it off. On the other hand, you'll smell rather fishy by the time this is done: try to remember to wash regularly.

Time now to get the pastry ready: take a sheet of phyllo, brush with melted butter, sprinkle with sea salt, paprika and cayenne pepper (go easy on the last one, please), put another sheet of phyllo on top and repeat the performance. Then do it again. Until you have three or four sheets of phyllo layered and waiting.

Don't know about you, but the phyllo I can get here is a bit bigger than A4 size, so cutting it across the long side means I can use one lot to wrap two pavés. If you see what I mean.

In any case, now would be a good time to mix up some sour cream with a finely-chopped shallot, some parsley, paprika ... whatever takes your fancy, really. Smear some of that onto the middle of the pastry, lay a pavé on top, fold the sides and ends over to cover, then flip it over onto a baking tray (or whatever) so that the foldy bits are underneath. Repeat as required, until you've used up all your bits of salmon. Brush them with a bit more melted butter while you're at it, and sprinkle them with chopped parsley or something: they'll look prettier that way.

You do need to cook them: about 25 minutes at 250° should do the trick. They should look something like this. But hopefully, in focus.

(As an aside, an interesting variant on this is to use a thick bechamel, to which you've added a chopped hard-boiled egg and some cooked rice - in place of the sour cream mixture. This is starting to approach a coulibiac - a classic Russian dish.)

A good thing to know: whilst your little papillottes are cooking (remember, this'll take about 25 mn), you may in fact drink, to make up for lost time during the preparation. I'd go for a nicely-chilled rosé myself, but that's possibly because we're experiencing 25°C temperatures now, and no-one will let me stick red wine in the fridge.

Sophie's of the opinion that watching me cook is a bit like watching a work of art unfold - but then, most Frog-persons have forgotten how to cook, and eat microwaved frozen crap instead. Whatever, enjoy your salmon.