"Lad, I'm a victualler for the fleet," he says, amused rather than affronted; he pronounces it vittler. "If I didn't know a variety of ways to cook our most common ingredient, the rowdy crew of sailors and rebels I cook for wouldn't let me hear the end of it."

He pulls up another one - this one a flatfish. Considers the ugly thing, then adds it to his pile. "So, what's your preference? Steaming, roasting, smoking, stewing - I promise none of it will be wasted."