Bit of a red herring this. Yes, literally a bit of a red herring. Namesake of a famous and frankly ridiculous tie, the kipper. Not to be confused with the gipper, which I am led to believe is a completely different form of two faced leathery creature. Basically, a salted and smoked spawning fish that has been sliced down the middle and eviserated. Bit like the Labour Party. Crickey, I am getting all political today, maybe there's something about eating smoked fish that brings out the anarco-syndicalist in me, but that's a whole other story!
Lightly poached in milk for 5 minutes or so, they can at first sight be a touch daunting early in the morning. Kippers for breakfast does smack of Victoriana, something that doesn't really happen any more, of something mad old duffers do. Akin to wearing plus fours and shooting small birds for sport. Wearing a monocle or wearing a cloth cap and working in heavy industry in the UK. An anachronism; something that only tourists or rich people do. But we are missing a trick I reckon. A shiny copper coloured fish made tender in the milk topped with a poached egg and healthy knob of butter is a fine way to start the day.
I've always been a big fan of kedgeree for breakfast, something I discovered in Sydney oddly enough, in the cafe on the top floor of the Queen Victoria Building in the city centre, where we would enjoy the starched white table cloths and fine china with breakfast and think of jolly old England and then smirk and hit the beach. The notion of such strong flavours was not that alien to me, but I have to admit a certain amount of trepidation accompanied my first mouthful. I needn't have worried. The fish is strong tasting but actually quite a complex flavour, of smoke and salt and the sea. A fine noble flavour. Worthy of a breakfast.