You want them standing, still too hot to be polite: salt-cod fritters that rattle as they leave the oil, potato and onion and parsley beaten with the fish until the mixture pulls like a dough. The outside should shatter; the inside should steam. A glass of vinho verde beside them is not a pairing so much as a habit.
Salt cod is Atlantic work. Portuguese boats went west for this fish, and the dried, salted flesh became the protein of a country that faces the ocean. Pastéis in the south, bolinhos in the north — same nibble, different name.
Shape them with two wet spoons, fry them at a proper roar, and do not wait for a plate. They will not improve by sitting.
Method
- 01
Put your soaked salt cod into a pan of fresh water and bring it just to a simmer — you want it to flake, not to toughen. Ten minutes or so, until it gives under a fork. Lift it out, pick off every bit of skin and bone, and flake the flesh. Meanwhile boil the potatoes until they collapse, then mash them while they're still steaming; a cold mash will never bind.
- 02
Now beat the flaked cod into the hot mash with the onion, parsley, eggs, and a good grinding of pepper. You are not folding politely — you are working the mixture until it turns sticky and elastic, almost like a dough. It should pull slightly from the bowl. If it feels slack, keep beating; the starch and the egg will take hold.
- 03
Dip two tablespoons in a bowl of water and shape the mixture into quenelles — those little oval pillows the Portuguese call pastéis. Keep the spoons wet so the batter doesn't cling, and work quickly; a warm kitchen makes them slump. Don't fuss over perfect footballs. They should look handmade, a little ragged, ready for the oil.
- 04
Heat a pot of oil to 350°F — a cube of bread should brown in about a minute, with a proper roar, not a timid bubble. Lower the fritters in, a few at a time, and fry until they rattle and turn a deep gold, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain on paper and serve them at once, still too hot to be polite — that is how they are meant to be eaten.
