The Umami Plate – Cod, Miso Beurre Blanc & Big Flavour Energy

Rachael Popplewell
Aug 4
4 min read

This week’s cooking lesson took an exciting detour. Becky and Stephen were keen to focus on fish, and while we initially discussed a traditional fish pie, we quickly veered off into more playful territory.

Instead of one set dish, I introduced a "mix-and-match" idea—pairing fish with different sauces, veg, and potato options to let them shape the plate. From that, we landed on something that felt refined but still big on comfort and flavour: Pan-roasted cod with miso beurre blanc, potato rösti, and a charred corn & tomato salad.

This Sunday was a chance to have a little fun with classic techniques and a little more fancy plating but still retaining that level of comfort and ease,

The Lesson

For a more refined and sophisticated plate, this dish was actually simpler to teach than some of our previous sessions. The structure and timing weren’t as strict—everything could be prepped in advance to a holding point, then finished in the oven or pan right before plating. That made for a more relaxed rhythm, giving us space to slow down and really focus on technique.

The star here was delicate fish cookery—getting that perfect flake and buttery texture without overcooking. We explored the foundations of a classic beurre blanc with a miso twist, building an emulsion that was both rich and punchy. And of course, the humble but mighty potato rösti—somewhere between a hash brown and a crisp-edged latke—brought its own lessons in texture, moisture control, and pan technique.

This was less about juggling timings and more about nailing the fundamentals. A great session for practicing finesse.

The Rosti

It’s always best to start with the most time-consuming or complex element — in this case, the potatoes. Rostis require time and patience. First, we cleaned the potatoes, because we definitely want to keep that delicious skin, followed by grating them.

Now here’s the tricky bit — you’d be surprised by how much water is in a humble potato. So we had to scoop all those gratings into a blue cloth (or muslin) and squeeze like our lives depended on it… or at least, we do that until the cloth breaks and squirts liquid in your face.

This has happened to me in the past, and let’s just say I felt it was a rite of passage for Becky to experience the same thing (absolutely not because I forgot to mention the fragility of the cloth). So yes — we had a burst cloth, but what we also had were some expertly squeezed potatoes, perfect for our rosti.

Next came the fun part: a couple of herbs from the garden, chopped up; a couple of garlic cloves, grated; a touch of miso, a splash of soy. A rummage through the spice cupboard and a good shake of smoked paprika. And of course, a nice little dose of cheese — if for nothing else, just to hold the rosti cakes together (vitally important). A handful of sesame seeds too, because there are few things that miso and sesame don’t make better.

Next: some butter, melting in a pan over medium heat (we want crisp and golden, not black on the outside and raw in the middle). We only need to get that beautiful golden crust in the pan, because — as mentioned earlier — the magic of this dinner is that everything gets finished in the oven to ensure perfectly cooked rostis.

The Charred Corn Salad

This one’s ridiculously simple and so tasty — adding a bright pop of freshness and colour to the plate.

You can use whole corn sliced off the cob, frozen corn, or even tinned. We just chucked it into a hot pan to quickly char, then took it off the heat.

While that cooled, we halved some cherry tomatoes, finely diced a red onion, and tossed it all together with a few flavour bombs: olive oil, a splash of balsamic, a grated garlic clove, and a big squeeze of citrus (lemon or lime both work). A touch of mustard if you fancy — but not essential.

Toss it all up and there you have it — your crunchy, juicy, zingy contrast to the richer elements on the plate.

The Sauce – A Lesson in Emulsion

A classic French sauce usually involves at least one of three things: wine, butter, or mustard. But I’ve got my own holy trinity when it comes to sauces — garlic, miso, and sesame — and of course, this sauce brought them together.

We started by finely dicing a shallot and softening it gently in the pan. Then came the aromatics — white wine first, to deglaze and reduce slightly, followed by a spoonful of miso and a splash of sesame oil to deepen the flavour.

Then, off the heat, we slowly whisked in cold cubes of butter — little by little — until the whole thing emulsified into a glossy, silky sauce. The result? Something rich, nutty, and full of umami, but still delicate enough to complement the cod.

It’s the kind of sauce that pulls everything together — tying the buttery rösti, fresh salad, and

flaky fish into one cohesive, comforting-but-sophisticated plate.

The Fish — The Elegance

The simplest and most important part of the whole dish.

We used skinless cod loin — a beautifully meaty piece of fish that doesn’t need much to shine. Without skin to crisp, we treated it gently: straight into the oven for around 15 minutes, just until opaque and beginning to flake. That’s it.

The rösti went in about 10 minutes before the fish, and five minutes before plating, both came out so we could warm the sauce gently and bring everything together.

The Verdict

Visually: Sophisticated and inviting Flavour balance: A harmonious umami bomb Overall experience: A refreshing, balanced dish — refined, but not fussy