The Saltfish Fritters My Mother Fried Every Sunday

When I was a boy in Guadeloupe, Sunday morning had a sound before it had a colour. The sound of oil getting hot in my mother’s heavy pot, and then a small voice saying, “venez, c’est prêt, viens.” Come, it’s ready, come.

Six of us. Six children running barefoot on the tiles, half awake, hair still flat from the pillow. My mother stood at the stove with a bowl tucked under her arm, dropping spoonfuls of batter into the oil. The fritters hissed and bloomed gold. They smelled of salt cod and parsley and a little bit of fire from the chilli she always slipped in at the end. We ate them standing up, fingers burning, dipping them in a sharp red sauce she kept in a jar by the window.

Those were accras de morue. The saltfish fritters of my island. The ones every grandmother in Guadeloupe and Martinique can make with her eyes closed. The ones you eat at a roadside stall in Pointe-à-Pitre with a cold beer, or at a wedding before anything else has come out of the kitchen. They are tiny, lacy, crisp on the outside and soft and fishy inside, and they vanish faster than you can fry the next batch.

Let me show you how I make them now, in my kitchen in the UK. The proper way. The way my mother taught me. With one small honest cheat: instead of standing over a pestle and mortar pounding fresh scotch bonnet, I use a spoonful of Caribbean Hot Sauce. Same heat, same colour, less work. My mother would forgive me.

Recipe at a glance

• Cuisine: French Caribbean (Guadeloupe)
• Course: Starter, snack, party food
• Prep: 15 minutes (plus overnight desalting)
• Cook: 20 minutes
• Total active time: 35 minutes
• Serves: 6 as a starter (makes about 24 small fritters)
• Featured sauce: Caribbean Hot Sauce
• Heat level: Warm, friendly heat (you can dial it up at the table)
• Diet: Pescatarian, dairy-free

What you’ll need

Two parts. First you wake up the salt cod. Then you build a quick batter around it. Nothing complicated. The only thing you cannot rush is the desalting, so start the day before.

For the salt cod - 300g salt cod (morue salée), in one or two thick pieces - Cold water, enough to cover the cod three times over - 1 bay leaf - 2 sprigs of thyme

For the batter - 250g plain flour - 1 teaspoon baking powder - 2 medium eggs - 250ml cold sparkling water - 4 spring onions, finely chopped (white and green parts) - 3 garlic cloves, crushed - A small bunch of flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped (about 4 tablespoons once chopped) - 1 tablespoon Caribbean Hot Sauce - ½ teaspoon fine sea salt (be careful, the cod still carries salt) - A good grind of black pepper - 1 litre vegetable or sunflower oil, for frying

To serve - More Caribbean Hot Sauce, in a small bowl by the plate - Lime wedges - A cold drink, your choice

A note on the cod. In the UK you find salt cod in good Caribbean grocers, in Portuguese delis (look for bacalhau), and in some Spanish shops too. If you buy thick centre-cut pieces you will get more flake and less skin. Avoid the very thin tail end, it dries out.

Method

The day before, you wake the cod

1. Take your salt cod, give it a quick rinse under cold water to knock off the surface salt, and put it in a deep bowl. Cover it with plenty of cold water, three times the volume of the cod. Cover the bowl and put it in the fridge.
2. Change the water three times over the next 24 hours. Morning, lunchtime, and last thing at night. Each time you pour the old water away, give the cod a quick rinse and add fresh cold water. By the third change the water should taste only faintly salty when you dip a finger in. That is when the cod is ready.

The morning of, you cook it

3. Drain the cod and put it in a saucepan with the bay leaf, the thyme, and just enough fresh cold water to cover. Bring it gently to a simmer over a low heat. Once it bubbles softly, count 10 minutes, then turn the heat off and let it sit in the warm water for 5 more minutes. Drain it and let it cool on a board.
4. Now you take the cod and you flake it. Pull out any bones and the skin. Break the flesh into very small flakes with a fork, almost shreds. You should have a soft, light pile of fish that smells of the sea but no longer of the salt cellar.

The batter

5. In a big mixing bowl, whisk the flour with the baking powder, the sea salt, and the black pepper.
6. Crack in the eggs. Pour in the cold sparkling water. Whisk from the centre outwards until the batter is smooth and just thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Do not over-whisk. A few small lumps will not hurt anyone.
7. Fold in the spring onions, the garlic, the parsley, and the tablespoon of Caribbean Hot Sauce. The batter will turn the colour of a pale sunset. Taste a small bit on the tip of a spoon. It should taste lively, a touch peppery, a touch garlicky.
8. Fold in the flaked cod last, gently, so the flakes stay as flakes. Cover the bowl and let the batter rest for 30 minutes on the counter. This is the part everyone wants to skip. Do not skip it. The resting is what makes the fritters lacy.

The frying

9. Pour the oil into a deep, heavy pan. You want at least 4cm of oil. Set it over a medium-high heat and bring it to 180°C. If you do not have a thermometer, drop a cube of bread in. It should turn golden in about 30 seconds.
10. Now you fry. Take a tablespoon, dip it briefly in the hot oil so the batter slides off cleanly, then scoop a heaped tablespoon of batter and slide it into the oil. Do four or five at a time, never more. They will puff and turn over almost on their own. If they don’t, nudge them with a slotted spoon after a minute.
11. Fry for about 3 to 4 minutes, turning once, until they are deep gold all over and the seams have crisped. Lift them out with the slotted spoon and let them drain on a plate lined with kitchen paper. Salt them very lightly, just a kiss.
12. Eat them now. The first one is the cook’s. The second one is for whoever was patient. The rest, you carry to the table.

The role of Caribbean Hot Sauce in this dish

In Guadeloupe, accras and hot sauce are not two things, they are one thing. The fritter is the vehicle. The sauce is the engine.

I use Caribbean Hot Sauce in two ways here, and it matters that you do both.

In the batter, the tablespoon does the work my mother used to do with a fresh scotch bonnet and a stone mortar. It gives the inside of the fritter a warm, rounded heat and a deep amber colour that you can see when you break one open. You don’t taste fire, you taste the dish. The sauce is thick, so it binds into the batter rather than thinning it. The garlic and chilli already in the jar pick up everything the fresh garlic and parsley are doing.

At the table, the bowl of hot sauce on the side is where the heat lives. People dip. They double dip. Children dip lightly, uncles dip like they have something to prove. The sauce is bold enough that one small fritter carrying a small smear of it tastes like the whole of Guadeloupe in one bite.

If you have someone at the table who cannot do heat at all, put a small dish of Fresh Herbal Sauce next to the hot one. No chilli, just herbs and green brightness. It works beautifully with the salt cod.

Tips from my kitchen

A few small things I have learned over the years. They are the difference between accras you make once and forget, and accras you make every other weekend.

• Taste the soaking water on day two. If it is still very salty, give the cod another change and another four hours. Under-soaked cod will ruin the fritters. There is no fixing it after the fact.
• Sparkling water, not tap. The bubbles in the batter lift the fritters as they fry. Tap water gives you a denser, doughier result. Cold sparkling is the secret.
• Don’t crowd the pan. Four or five fritters at a time, no more. Too many and the oil temperature drops, the batter soaks oil instead of crisping, and you get heavy, greasy lumps instead of lacy ones.
• Dip the spoon in the hot oil first. A quick dunk and the batter slides off the spoon cleanly. Otherwise it sticks and you get a strangely shaped fritter with a tail. Not the end of the world, but not pretty.
• Eat them within five minutes. Accras lose their crispness fast. If you are cooking for a crowd, do them in batches and bring them out as you fry. Don’t try to make a tray and reheat. They will be sad.

What to serve it with

Accras are at their happiest as a starter, eaten standing up before the proper meal arrives. In Guadeloupe we serve them with:

• A short glass of rum punch, ti-punch, or a cold lager if it is hot
• Lime wedges, always, the acid cuts the richness
• A small green salad with a sharp lime and oil dressing
• For a bigger spread, follow with poulet colombo or a mango glazed salmon for something fruity and warm
• More of our sauces around the table. The Spicy Discovery Trio is a generous way to let guests find their own heat

If you are making them for a party, double the batter and fry as people arrive. They will eat the first batch in three minutes. Trust me on this.

FAQ

What is morue?

Morue is salt cod, cod that has been salted and dried to preserve it. In the Caribbean it is one of the oldest pantry ingredients, going back to when fresh fish could not last the journey from the coast inland. You buy it in stiff pieces. You wake it up by soaking it in cold water for a day. Once rehydrated, the texture is meatier than fresh cod, which is why it holds up so well in fritters and stews.

Can I use fresh cod instead?

You can, but it is no longer accras de morue, it is a fresh cod fritter. It will be milder and softer, and it will lack the deep flavour that salt cod gives. If you really must, use 250g of fresh cod, poach it gently, flake it the same way, and add an extra ½ teaspoon of salt to the batter. But if you have the time, buy the morue. Two days from start to finish, and the result is worth it.

How long do I need to soak the cod?

24 hours, with three water changes. Some pieces are thicker and saltier than others. Always taste the soaking water on the second day. If it still tastes like the sea, give it longer. A thick centre-cut piece can take 36 hours in stubborn cases. Patience is the only ingredient that cannot be substituted.

Can I make the batter ahead?

The batter rests well for up to 4 hours in the fridge, covered. After that the baking powder loses its lift and the fritters come out denser. I would rather you mix it on the morning you fry. The cod itself, however, can be soaked, poached and flaked the day before and kept in the fridge in a sealed container. That is the slow part you can get out of the way in advance.

Are accras gluten-free?

This recipe is not, because of the plain flour in the batter. You can swap the plain flour for a 50/50 blend of rice flour and cornflour to make a gluten-free version. The texture will be slightly different, a touch crisper and less elastic, but very good. Our Caribbean Hot Sauce is gluten-free and vegan, so the seasoning side of things stays clean.

Final word from me

If you have never made accras before, this is the recipe to start with. Don’t be intimidated by the salt cod. It is the easiest pantry ingredient in the world once you have soaked it once. After your first batch you will understand why these little fritters have been the opening act at Guadeloupe tables for two hundred years.

Make them on a Sunday. Make them for friends. Make them on a Tuesday because it is raining and you want a small piece of the Caribbean in your kitchen. Stand at the stove, fry a batch, eat one straight from the paper. The rest can wait their turn.

À table.

JP