In a world where all food is available simultaneously, is there anything to be said for pursuing a unique vision in a particular time and place?

Is this kind of journey only ever going to be for the few, those willing to go the extra mile in search of the seemingly authentic aspects of local food? Does Mexican food in Dublin or Italian food in Limerick not bring with it a unique food culture also? One of migration, of people passing from one place to another. All food has a story to tell.

An expanded terroir is one worth fighting for, one that accommodates the local and global. Yesterday, live langoustines came in to us. They were creel caught. A creel is a light basket that is dropped into the sea. It functions a little like a lobster basket: once in, the shellfish cannot get out. Creel fishing is species-selective and environmentally sustainable, with very little by-catch.

The shellfish are taken to the surface alive and undamaged. This means that egg-bearing females or undersized specimens can be returned to the sea.

The carbon footprint is minimal compared to other methods of fishing as most boats are small and fish relatively close to shore. They usually come in and out on the day. Creeling is often the main source of employment in small rural communities.

After peeling the langoustines, we roasted the heads and shells to make a shellfish oil and stock.

Never ever throw out your shells! A simple langoustine bisque can be made from shells alone. Add fennel and tomatoes. Simmer and add a little cream. Langoustines take so little cooking. I usually fry them on one side only. They pair well with other seasonal treats such as poached rhubarb. Lightly pickled fennel is something that reaches divine heights when topped with a few large langoustines. Finish with a few fennel fronds and a lovely nutty rapeseed oil.