Grilled Sturgeon — Storione alla Griglia

Today, Ash Wednesday, marks the beginning of Lent for Western Rite Christians. In Catholic homes, it is a day of abstaining from meat, as are all the Fridays leading up to Easter Sunday. Although I consider myself a Recovering Catholic, I do think it a good idea to go meatless, for a number of reasons, and am trying to do so one day a week. So, whether you’re a practicing Catholic or just want to cut down on the amount of meat you eat, the Kitchens are here to help. Over the next several weeks, I’ll post a series of meatless recipes where fish is the primary protein. Well, that’s the plan anyway …

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Today’s recipe is not one from the Bartolini playbook. I don’t recall sturgeon ever being on the menu when I was a boy. I do enjoy sturgeon, though, having ordered it at restaurants several times as an adult. Recently, when my fishmonger ran a sale on the fish, I couldn’t resist purchasing some. While wrapping my purchase, he suggested I grill it. Now, those of you who have written posts featuring grilled fish have read my comments in which I confess an utter lack of grilling skills, especially when it comes to seafood. Fearing another disaster, I nevertheless took the fish monger’s suggestion as a challenge and fired up the grill that evening. Well, what can I say? Not only did the fish cook perfectly, it actually bore grill marks instead of sticking firmly to the grill plates. I have since returned to the grill and had equally good results, as you’ll see in the weeks ahead.

Once grilled, you’ll need some sort of sauce to compliment the fish. I’ve been served this sauce, or something closely resembling it, in restaurants several times. It couldn’t be easier to prepare and the amount of each ingredient may be modified to suit your own preferences. It’s, also, tasty enough that you can use it for just about any fish that makes its way to your dinner table.

And by the way,  Happy Birthday, Sis!

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Grilled Sturgeon with Lemon-Caper Sauce Recipes

Ingredients

  • sturgeon fillets, about ½ pound each, skin removed 100_1696
  • salt
  • pepper
  • extra virgin olive oil

Lemon-Caper Sauce

  • 4 tbsp butter
  • 2 tbsp lemon juice
  • zest from ½ lemon
  • 1 tbsp capers
  • 1 small clove garlic, grated or minced
  • 1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped

Directions

  1. Start grill. Will require a med-high heat.
  2. When grill is ready, thoroughly clean the grilling surface before using a towel soaked in vegetable oil to coat the grill plates.
  3. Lightly coat fish with vegetable oil, season with salt & pepper, and place on grilling surface. Do not move or disturb once placed on the grill.
  4. Grill for 3 to 4 minutes per side. Remove from heat, cover, and let rest.
  5. While the fish rests, melt butter in a small fry pan over med-high heat. Add garlic and sauté for about a minute. Add the lemon juice, zest, and capers, continuing to sauté for another minute. Remove from heat, add parsley and gently stir.
  6. Place sturgeon fillets on a serving platter, spoon lemon-caper sauce over the fillets, and serve.

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Notes 

Sturgeon is a meaty, delicate tasting fish. It can be served baked, fried, smoked, or grilled. It’s flesh is more dense than say, cod, so it won’t flake as one might expect. Keep this in mind when you prepare sturgeon because it may become a bit tough with a more pronounced fish flavor when overcooked.

It really does pay to heed the experts and ensure that your grill plates are as clean as possible and well-oiled before you begin grilling any type of fish. Believe me, a light cleaning and oiling just won’t do. And be sure those grill plates are good and hot. Meet these 3 basic requirements and you’ll notice a marked improvement in your grilling.

One of the reasons I’ve chosen to go meatless one day a week is to reduce the impact on Mother Earth of raising meat, no matter the kind. I’d be robbing Peter to pay Paul, however, if I chose endangered seafood to eat instead of meat for that day. There are now a number of seafood apps available for your smartphone or tablet that will let you know whether a particular sea dweller is endangered and offer substitutions when possible. Just go to your virtual app store and do a search for “seafood”. The rest is up to you.

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

Since we’re going meatless, we might as well take a look at some of the Kitchens’ previously posted meatless recipes, too. This week’s Blast from the Past will send you to my Pasta Puttanesca recipe. Originating in Naples, this flavorful pasta features anchovies, olives, and capers, all simmered in a rich tomato sauce. Not only that, its aroma is certainly one of a kind. You can find the recipe by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Pasta with Sardines and Pickled Cherry Peppers

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Eel in the Style of Le Marche — Anguille alla Marchigiana

Our ship came in! This morning, I made what has become a daily call to the Italian market and learned that eels had been delivered late yesterday afternoon. I called a friend and within an hour, we were standing in front of the fish counter, watching the fishmonger net today’s entrée. Not but a few hours later, here I sit blogging about the dinner. Not too shabby, well, unless you happen to be an eel.

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Throughout much of Italy, eel is a dish served traditionally around the holidays but is most commonly prepared in the southern portions of the country, with Naples famous for its eel. Very often one of the fishes served during Christmas Eve’s Feast of the 7 Fishes, eel is considered to be good luck for those who eat it. This is a very old custom dating back to the days when people believed snakes to be evil because of their role in the story of Adam & Eve. Because it so closely resembles a serpent, by eating eel one was symbolically triumphing over the devil and good fortune was sure to follow. I don’t know if that’s true but I’m buying a few lottery tickets, just in case.

In the old two-flat, I can’t say that eating eel was a tradition at all. In fact, I only remember seeing it one time back then. I must have been no more than 5 years old because I could barely see over the edge of the sink. Even though “barely,” I did manage to get a glimpse of a sink full of the slimy devils. Needless to say, it was a sight that left a lasting impression. Speaking with Zia, that is probably the last time eel was prepared there. So, today’s post wasn’t just a recipe. It was yet another memory test for my long-suffering Zia. I must say, though, having just finished a delicious dinner, Zia came through again. The eel flesh not only remained intact, it’s flavor wasn’t overcome by the tomatoes and, in fact, the sauce had a mild seafood taste throughout. Now I just have to figure out a way to get some eel over to Michigan so she, too, can enjoy the fruits of her memory.

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As she suggested, I prepared the anguille like we do much of our seafood, in a simple tomato sauce. In fact, this marinara is almost bland for there are no strong herbs or flavors present. Eel has a mild fish flavor and using something like organo or marjoram would definitely overpower it, leaving a tomato sauce devoid of any taste of seafood. We agreed that the eel might disintegrate if allowed to cook entirely in the sauce, so it was briefly pan-fried before being added it to the tomatoes.  Beyond that, the only change I brought to the recipe was with the basil. My family always tore by hand or chopped fresh basil before adding it to a sauce. Not long ago, I watched as Lidia added an entire stem of basil to her sauce and fished it out before serving. Well, if it’s good enough for Lidia, it is certainly good enough for me. If you, however,  don’t feel like adding a stem of fresh basil, then tear or chop away.

Oh! I should warn tell you one more thing about today’s protein. These eel are alive when purchased. You can bring them home and “take care of them” yourself or you can let your fishmonger do it for you. Um. No question. Let your fishmonger kill, gut, trim, and even chop the eel to your specifications. If you’re considering taking on any of the duties I’ve just mentioned, let me tell you that the term “slippery as an eel” is far more fact than fiction. I chose to chop the eel myself and it was a mistake, one that I’ll never repeat.

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Anguille alla Marchigiana Recipe

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs. eel, cleaned with head & tail removed, chopped in 2 – 3 inch pieces.
  • 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, divided
  • 1 large sweet onion, sliced thin
  • 1 clove garlic, minced or grated
  • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, divided
  • 1 large can (28.5 oz) tomatoes
  • 1 stem fresh basil
  • 1 cup white wine
  • salt & pepper
  • thickly sliced, toasted Italian bread, for serving.

Directions

  1. In a large sauce pan, heat 2 tbsp of olive oil over med-high heat. Add onion and sauté for about 3 minutes before adding 3 tbsp of the chopped parsley. Continue to sauté until the onion is translucent, about 5 more minutes.
  2. Add garlic and sauté for a minute.
  3. Add tomatoes, basil, season lightly with salt & pepper, and bring pan’s contents to the boil before reducing to a simmer.
  4. After sauce has simmered for 15 minutes, heat the remaining oil in a large frying pan over med-high heat.
  5. Once the oil is hot, add the pieces of eel and sauté for about 7 minutes, being careful to insure that the pieces are evenly cooked.
  6. Carefully remove the eel and place it in the tomato sauce. Season lightly with salt & pepper.
  7. Use the white wine to deglaze the frying pan. Continue to cook the wine until it is reduced by half. Add the wine reduction to the tomato sauce and carefully stir the pan’s contents.
  8. Increase the heat to high, bring the sauce to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for another 15 minutes.
  9. Taste and adjust seasoning, if needed, one last time.
  10. To serve, set a piece of toasted bread on each plate and place eel pieces on top, followed by a generous amount of sauce. Garnish each serving with some of the remaining chopped parsley.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

Calamari SaladA little over a year ago, I gave an account of how the Feast of the 7 Fishes came about. It was part of the post in which I shared Mom’s recipe for a Calamari Salad. Follow this recipe’s guidelines and you’ll have perfectly prepared calamari, not rubber bands. That post also included a round-up of 11 additional seafood recipes for anyone needing help with gathering 7 seafood dishes for the Feast. You can see it all by simply clicking HERE.

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What’s this? You’re still a fish short?

Here’s a round-up of this past year’s seafood posts.

So, combining both posts, you now have 18 recipes from which to choose dishes for your Feast of 7 Fishes. Still having trouble? Try this: start your meal with Mom’s Calamari Salad. Next serve a bowl brimming with Brodetto. See? You’ve got 6 Fishes out-of-the-way already. Now, finish your meal with a bang: Branzino al Cartoccio. That’s 7 Fishes and you haven’t even broken a sweat.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Mom’s Brodo

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Baked Whiting

Merluzzo al Forno

Today’s recipe comes from a half-century ago, a time when television shows were only broadcast in black and white; when a trip to the airport was something eagerly anticipated; when all (US) phones had a dial and many of those phones, being owned by Ma Bell, were rented; when music was purchased on large, black vinyl discs; and when Catholics were forbidden to eat meat on Fridays lest they face the fires of eternal damnation. Yes, that long ago.

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When I think back to those days, I’m amazed at the variety of fish that found its way to our dinner table. Aside from the usual guests — i.e., baccalà (salted cod), stoccafisso (dried cod), tuna, vongole (clams), smelt, calamari (squid), perch, sepia, lumache (snails) — there were infrequent visitors but I was far too young to remember their names. Zia, my very own Encyclopedia Italiana, can’t remember their names either. So, you can well imagine my surprise when the fishmonger at the Italian market identified a type of fish in his display case as “merluzzo.” Merluzzo! I’d not heard or seen that fish in almost 50 years. I bought a couple, rushed home, and phoned my Aunt immediately.

Zia was every bit as surprised as I was. I really enjoy these phone calls and they’re why I spend so much time investigating a market’s pasta aisle, the cheese counter, the produce department, and interrogating the fishmonger. It makes my day when I uncover some treasure from long ago and then phone her with the news. To be sure, no matter the discovery, there’ll be some in a bag, a box, or a cooler the next time I come for a visit. And that dinner will be full of memories, some of which I’ll then share with you.

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Now then, before discussing the recipe, I can no longer ignore l’elefante nella stanza. Our friends from across The Pond refer to merluzzo as “hake”, whereas here merluzzo is called “whiting.” (My sources on this “side” being my fishmongers and Fabio Trabocchi’s cookbook Cucina of Le Marche.) Although I am by no means an expert, I’ve learned that although the two fish aren’t exactly the same, the names “whiting” and “hake” are used interchangeably.  For the sake of argument, henceforth I’ll call today’s fish “merluzzo”. You, then, can translate it to mean whatever you like,  be that “whiting” or “hake”.  ChgoJohn, Peace Maker.

I’m going to dispense with my normal recipe format, for this dish doesn’t need it. Merluzz’ are small fish. Scaled and gutted, the 2 pictured were about 9 inches (23 cm) long and together weighed about 8 ounces (227 g). To stuff them, you’ll need about 1/3 of a cup of the breading mixture per fish and you may wish to make more, depending upon how you’ll cook or serve your fish.

This stuffing mixture is used in a number of the Bartolini family recipes. Grandma’s Stuffed Vegetables and Grandpa’s Barbecued Shrimp are 2 that I’ve shared so far. We, also, use it to stuff calamari and again with other baked fish, the recipes for which are forthcoming.  The only difference in its composition from one dish to the next is that, with seafood, lemon juice might be added.  It’s easy enough to make. Just combine (Panko) breadcrumbs, chopped fresh parsley, a little grated or minced garlic, salt & pepper, and olive oil. If you like, squeeze a little fresh lemon juice into the mix. Learning how much olive oil to use gave me fits. I pestered Mom with questions and was forever touching Zia’s mixture to get “the feel” of it.  You do not want a breading that is sopping wet with olive oil but neither do you want it barely moist. Too wet and you’ll have a greasy dish; not wet enough and it will dry out, and possibly burn, before the dish has finished cooking. Practice makes perfect.

Once the breading is made, salt & pepper the fish, inside and out, use the breading mixture to stuff it, and add a light drizzle of olive oil. Back in The Day, Grandpa would then secure the merluzzo in a hinged grill basket and place them on his barbecue, turning them after a few minutes. When finished, they would be removed to a serving platter and brought to the table. As you can see, that’s not what I’ve done.

To bake, place the stuffed fish on a lightly oiled baking sheet. Place any excess breading on top of the fish before drizzling with oil, and then place in a pre-heated oven of 375˚F (190˚C). Bake for about 20 minutes or until the breadcrumbs are golden brown. Times may vary depending upon the oven and size of the merluzzo. Remove to a serving platter and serve immediately. That’s still not as is pictured but this is how my family baked and served merluzzo.

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One way I like to prepare them is to roast cherry/grape tomatoes with the fish. I make extra breading and use it to cover the fish. Once roasted, the resulting flavors of roasted tomato and breading are reminiscent of Grandma’s Stuffed Vegetables.

A third way to serve them is to prepare even more breading mixture and use it to as a bed and coating for the roasting fish. Once roasted, place the breading and fish atop cooked pasta that has been lightly dressed with olive oil and chopped parsley. Roasted cherry tomatoes would work here, too.

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Notes

Don’t let a fear of fish bones prevent you from trying merluzzo. The bones are all attached to the spine and the “top-side” fillet readily lifts off of the fish with your fork. Once exposed, the entire spine is then easily removed, making the “bottom-side” fillet accessible. Just be careful with the meat taken from around the gills and you shouldn’t encounter any bones while eating.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

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As I’ve said, seafood is the protein of choice in Italian households on the night before Christmas. My Brodetto, or fisherman’s stew, uses a variety of seafood in a lightly seasoned tomato broth to create a very special dish which, coincidentally, is perfect for Christmas Eve. Click HERE to learn how to make this stew.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Next week’s recipe is a mystery dish, my memories of which predate even merluzzo. As such, I’ve no teaser photos for you. I can’t even guarantee that I’ll find it before next Wednesday. If I don’t, I may delay next week’s post a day or two, hoping that something turns up. Don’t you worry. I’ve another seafood recipe, all set to post, if I’m not successful. Stay tuned …

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Pan-Seared Salmon with Dill Sauce

As many of you may recall, recently I’ve located 3 fishmongers in my part of town. This was quite the lucky stroke, especially considering that for years now, only previously frozen fish was available to me — unless I wished to pre-order what I wanted. Yes, that was a possibility but there was little room for spontaneity. Living by myself, I don’t mind planning a dinner when guests are involved but when dining alone, I’ll often let the market decide what I’ll be preparing. Very often that meant that good, fresh fish were off the menu. Well, not anymore.

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Now that I’ve a steady supply of quality fish, I’ve certainly taken advantage. Branzino, sturgeon, merluzzo, salmon, shark, and sea bream have all found there way to my table, as have more clams than I’ve had in the past decade. I’ve prepared the fish in parchment (al cartoccio), grilled (alla griglia); baked (al forno), stewed (in umido) or, like today, pan-seared. None is difficult or complicated to prepare, nor are any so bone-riddled as to be unpalatable. Although 1 specific dish may give you pause, I guarantee that you will be able to prepare the others without so much as batting an eye. So, with Christmas Eve approaching fast, I plan to present 3 fish dishes to you in December.

Today’s recipe is Pan-Seared Salmon Fillets. This is so easy to prepare that I debated blogging about it at all. Still, I was motivated to do so for the benefit of the younger members of my family.  Preparing fish can be a bit daunting for the inexperienced cook and a recipe like today’s is a confidence builder. With both the salmon and sauce taking less than 15 minutes to prepare, all you have to worry about is preparing a salad and whatever sides you prefer. The only way this meal could be easier is if you ordered it in a restaurant — and then it would cost you at least double.

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Pan-Seared Salmon with Dill Sauce Recipes

Ingredients

Browned & Crispy

  • thick cut salmon fillets, skin in place
  • salt & pepper
  • extra virgin olive oil
  • lemon wedges for serving

Dill Sauce

  • 4 tbsp (low-fat) Greek yogurt
  • fresh dill, chopped + more for garnish
  • 1 small garlic clove, minced or grated
  • salt & white pepper

Directions

  1. Combine yogurt, dill, and garlic into a small bowl and mix well. Season with salt & pepper and set aside.
  2. Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a medium skillet over a med-high heat. Season both sides of the salmon with salt & pepper.
  3. When oil is hot, add the salmon fillets, skin side down.
  4. Turn fish over once skin is well-browned & crispy but not burnt. This should take 4 to 5 minutes.
  5. Continue to sear, flesh-side down, for about another 3 minutes. This will give you a fillet that is med-rare to medium internally. Cook more or less depending upon your own preferences.
  6. Serve immediately  garnished with chopped dill and accompanied with dill sauce and lemon wedges.

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Notes

To insure that the salmon cooks evenly, select yours from the thickest part of the salmon fillet. If you must use the “tapered end” of the fillet, you will need to adjust your cooking times accordingly and the salmon skin may not fully crisp.

Although the dill sauce may be prepared and served immediately, it is best when prepared a few hours in advance and allowed to sit so the flavors meld together. I prefer to serve it at room temperature and will allow it to sit on a counter for about an hour before serving.

There are definitely 2 schools of thought when it comes to eating the skin of cooked fish. This recipe specifically crisps the skin. If you enjoy eating crispy skin, serve the fillets skin-side up. If you prefer not to eat the skin, serve the fillets skin-side down. This will soften the skin and make it easier to avoid while dining.

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

With an eye towards Christmas Eve, I thought today’s Blast from the Past should follow this month’s fish theme. In many Italian households, baccalà (salted cod) is the centerpiece of the Christmas Eve dinner. Click HERE to learn how my family prepares this dish.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Pasta with spinach, lemon, and burrata cheese

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Mediterranean Sea Bass in Parchment

Branzino al Cartoccio

During the past 6 months, I’ve discovered not just an Italian market with an extensive fish counter but 2 fish mongers, as well. Their impact upon my diet has been incredible and I’ve enjoyed a far greater variety of seafood than ever before.  I’ve not seen some — whiting (merluzzo), eels (anguille), octopus (polipo) — since I was a boy. Others — clams (vongole), squid (calamari), red snapper, and the like — may have been more readily available but the fish and calamari were often frozen and finding clams was a hit-or-miss affair. So, suddenly having 3 sources for fresh (affordable) seafood is mind-boggling and I’ve taken full advantage of them. Mediterranean sea bass (branzino) is a case in point.

Up until I found the Italian market, branzino was something I only saw on the menus of restaurants. My usual sources for seafood certainly weren’t going to carry it, although I suppose I may have been able to order one. You can imagine my surprise when I looked at the market’s fish counter one day and saw no less than a dozen fresh branzini on display. I just could not pass them by — even though I was leaving for Michigan the next morning. I bought one, packed it in ice overnight, repacked it in ice in my cooler for the trip, and we arrived in Michigan, fresh as daisies, the next afternoon. After a quick run to a grocery, I fixed today’s recipe for Zia that night.  Unfortunately, the pictures from that dinner were too dark to be used in a post, so, I was forced to prepare the dish again here at home. I know. The sacrifices we bloggers must endure.

By now, you’ve probably surmised that al cartoccio is Italian for “in parchment.” For this dish, because of its length, I used 2 sheets of parchment paper to enclose the fish. With a smaller branzino, you may be able to use a single large sheet, folded in half.  Although this is a recreation of our meal that night, it’s not exactly what I had planned for us. True to form, I forgot to bring a few ingredients with me and her area’s markets did not have them in supply. The fish was nonetheless delicious but, if you’re interested, the “Mediterranean style” mentioned in Variations below is what I had originally intended for that evening.  No matter how you decide to prepare your fish, be sure to set aside a few of the diced vegetables and chopped herbs to be used as garnish before serving. They’ll add both texture and freshness to the dish.

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Branzino al Cartoccio Recipe

Ingredients

  • 1 branzino, cleaned, scaled, fins trimmed and, if desired,  head and tail attached
  • 1 fennel bulb thinly sliced
  • thinly sliced lemon
  • diced yellow bell pepper
  • diced, cored, & seeded tomato
  • chopped scallions
  • a couple stems of fresh basil
  • 1 or 2 rosemary branches
  • a few parsley stems
  • white wine
  • olive oil
  • salt & pepper
  • 2 sheets of parchment paper
  • additional diced vegetables with hand-torn basil & parsley for garnish

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Oven Ready

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Directions

  1. Pre-heat oven to 400˚F (204˚C).
  2. Place a large sheet of parchment paper on a large baking sheet.
  3. Place the sliced fennel in a straight line, forming a bed for the fish.
  4. Use a sharp knife to score both sides of the fish. Do not cut through the backbone. Depending upon its length, 3 or 4 parallel cuts should be made into each side of the fish. Season the fish, inside and out, with salt & pepper.
  5. Lay the fish on top of the fennel bed. Stuff the cavity with a loose bundle made with all the herbs.
  6. Cover the top of the fish, from gill to tail, with lemon slices and cover them with the chopped vegetables.
  7. Sprinkle a little wine across the entire fish and then repeat with olive oil.
  8. Cover the baking sheet with another sheet of equally sized parchment paper.
  9. Beginning on one side, grab the edges of both sheets of paper, fold them twice together, and use a stapler to permanently attach them to each other.
  10. Repeat Step 9 on the remaining 3 sides, creating a sealed pouch for the fish.
  11. Lightly brush the pouch’s top with olive oil before placing the pouch and baking sheet in the pre-heated oven.
  12. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, depending upon the thickness of the fish. See Notes below.
  13. Slide the pouch on to a serving platter and bring to the table. Pierce the top but be careful of the steam’s release. Peel back the paper to reveal your main course and serve, garnished with the reserved diced vegetables and chopped herbs.

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Pronti!

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Variations

If you prefer a more Mediterranean style, add some chopped olives to the vegetables, add some fresh oregano to the herbs within the cavity, and use a little dried oregano to season the chopped vegetables. Oregano is a strong-tasting herb. Be careful not to use too much. Feel like something from South of the  (US) Border? Swap cilantro for the parsley, add a little chopped jalapeño to the vegetables, and maybe a pinch or two of cumin. And no matter style you follow, you can’t go wrong with capers — unless you forget to add them like I did when I prepared this fish.

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Notes

The cooking times may vary depending upon the size and thickness of the whole fish or even the fillets, if used. Though the pouch will protect your fish from drying out to a point, you don’t want to let it cook too long. A good rule of thumb for this or any fish roasted in parchment is to listen for the sizzle coming from inside the pouch. Most whole fish will be finished cooking from 7 to 9 minutes from that point; fillets will be finished in about 5 minutes.

You may have noticed that I used staples instead of a series of folds to seal the parchment ends. Once I saw Alton Brown do this, I abandoned the origami method of sealing the pouches. This is so much easier and reliable, especially when preparing a fish large enough to require 2 sheets of parchment paper.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

I’m just finishing up with this year’s canning, preserving, and pickling. One family favorite that I shared last year is the recipe for Zia’s Corn Relish. It’s a simple pickle, actually, and results in a great little condiment to serve with virtually any protein. It’s a little bit o’ sunshine on your dinner plate and who wouldn’t like that in the cold months ahead? Now, don’t worry if the “good” fresh corn is no longer available. Frozen corn can easily be used to make this relish and you can see the recipe by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Crostini

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Calamarata with Shrimp and Mussels

It’s getting to be routine. I go to “my” Italian market with a list of items to buy. Once I’ve finished the vegetable portion of my romp, I take a casual stroll toward the fish monger. I just cannot pass that display case without stopping to check out the day’s catch. And that’s when it happens.

No matter who is behind that counter, I’m greeted with a friendly, “Hello. Are you looking for anything in particular?” or something to that effect. I explain that I’m just looking and, to be polite, I ask about an item on display. “You’ve got branzini (Mediterranean sea bass)?” “Where do you get your vongole (clams)?” “Are these cozze (mussels) Mediterranean?” “Do you have anguille (eels) at Christmas?” You know. Just being polite. Maybe it’s the way I pronounce “vongole” or something but once my question’s been answered, the conversation turns to shell-fish. A few weeks ago, it was the vongole, the “freshest in town.” And I bought some. The following week it was vongole again and I would have left with another bag of the little darlings had it not been well over 90˚. With a few more stops to make, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it home without melting; those clams didn’t stand a chance. The Friday before last, as I approached the counter, I noticed I was alone. The fish mongers were nowhere to be seen. Great! I could ogle the octopi, peruse the perch, savor the salmon, and scan the squid, all at my leisure and with no fear of leaving with a bag of seafood. Soon I spied a sign announcing a sale on mussels and I turned a bit to get a better view of the black beauties. That’s when he appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “Those mussels are good, real good … but … these here are much better. They’re larger and-”  Resigned, I stopped him in mid-sentence and told him to just get me a pound. Why fight the inevitable?

While he bagged my mollusks, my mind raced. How would I prepare them and with what, if anything? Since mussels have such a strong flavor, I reasoned, they could easily stand up to a red sauce. Shrimp are, also, strong-tasting, I thought, and I bought a pound of them, too. Vongole, though, would never be able to compete in this mix, so, I bid “Ciao!” to the fish monger. I quickly decided to make a “fresh” sauce and by that I mean one that simmers only a brief amount of time. I want to taste fresh tomato and I headed back into the produce area to buy 9 large plum tomatoes. Now to find the dish’s most important component: the pasta. I headed over to the pasta aisle (actually, it’s a pasta aisle and a half!) and the choice was easy. Since the mussels and shrimp were large, I wanted my pasta to be, too. I selected calamarata, so named because they resembles large calamari (squid) rings.  It certainly didn’t hurt that they’d be used in a seafood dish. Leaving the pasta aisle, I mentally inventoried my fridge and knew I was set to go. I finished my shopping and headed home, munching on my reward, a cannoli.

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Calamarata

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When preparing today’s dish, remember to “Think Big!” Calamarata are a large pasta and everything included with it needs to be large, as well. So, the onions aren’t diced but chopped and rather large, at that. Once peeled, divide the tomatoes into 2 groups. The larger group, about ⅔ of the total, are seeded and chopped into chunks. These will add texture. The remaining ⅓, once seeded, is puréed in a food processor. These will be the basis for the sauce. The only things diced are the parsley, basil, and garlic. Even so, when garnishing the dish before serving, sprinkle a few hand-torn basil and parsley leaves. Most importantly, if you, too, want that fresh tomato taste, do not let the sauce simmer for longer than 30 minutes. The “simmer clock” starts the minute the tomatoes hit the pan. Cheese, by the way, would not be used with this dish.

And if you do like that fresh tomato taste, check out this recipe for Pesto Trapanese. It will take you longer to cook the pasta than it will to make this pesto and the taste is incredible.

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Calamarata with Shrimp and Mussels Recipe

(Calamarata con Gamberetto e Cozze)

Ingredients

  • 1 lb calamarata pasta
  • 1 lb fresh mussels, beards removed and scrubbed
  • 1 lb large  (21-25 count) shrimp, peeled and de-veined
  • 9 or 10 large plum tomatoes – divided
  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • ½ tsp red pepper flakes, more of less to taste
  • 1 medium onion, roughly chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, diced
  • splash of white wine
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, more for garnish
  • 1 tbsp fresh basil, chopped, more for garnish
  • ½ tbsp marjoram
  • 2 tbsp capers
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Directions

  1. Bring a large pot of water to boil. While waiting, use a paring knife to cut a small “X” into the bottom of each tomato. Once the water boils, place the scored tomatoes into the water and blanch for 1 to 2 minutes. Remove the tomatoes and place in a bowl of ice water. Once cooled to touch, peel each, beginning at its “X”, before quartering and seeding it. Place aside.
  2. Take about ⅔ of the tomatoes and coarsely chop into chunks. Puree the rest of the tomatoes using a food processor, blender, or stick blender.
  3. Heat the olive oil in a large, deep frying pan over med-high heat. Add the pepper flakes and, after a minute, add the onions. Sauté until translucent.
  4. Add the garlic and continue sautéing for about a minute more. Add a splash of white wine and reduce for a minute or two.
  5. Add all the tomatoes, season with salt & pepper, and maintain a medium simmer.
  6. Begin heating the water for your pasta. The calamarata pasta that I prepared needed 16 minutes to cook. Check your package’s instructions.
  7. When there are 5 minutes to go, add the parsley, basil, & marjoram to the frying pan, stir, and then add the mussels to the sauce and place a cover on the pan.
  8. 3 minutes later, add the shrimp and replace the cover.
  9. If you prefer to serve the mussels shelled, see Notes below.
  10. At the 5 minute mark, reserve some pasta water, drain the pasta and add it to the sauce pan. Add the capers and mix to evenly coat the pasta.
  11. Pour the calamarata into a serving bowl, garnish with torn basil & parsley leaves, and serve.

Variations

This is really a basic tomato sauce with seafood added. As I mentioned early on, I wanted a fresh sauce so I didn’t let the tomatoes simmer for long. You certainly may allow your tomatoes to simmer longer, if that’s your preference. Just remember that there’s no turning back once you put the pasta into the boiling water, and that’s regardless of the pasta you’ve chosen to cook. And once the mussels are put into the sauce, you have about 5 minutes to go. The cooking instructions on the pasta’s package are your friends.

Notes

As always, be sure to reserve some pasta water in case your sauce needs it. Be aware, though, that the mussels will give off some flavorful liquid during the cooking process. You may not need as much pasta water as you think.

Once the shrimp have been in the sauce for about a minute, I remove the pan’s cover and begin removing the mussels from their shells. I usually leave a few in the shell just for presentation in the final dish. Once all are removed, it is far easier to stir the sauce to insure the shrimp are evenly cooked on both sides.

I usually drain and add the pasta to the sauce when the shrimp are just shy of being fully cooked. They will finish cooking when mixed with the hot pasta and this will insure that neither shrimp nor mussels are over-cooked and chewy when served.

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By any other name …

There are two more of “my girls” but neither is doing well enough to make a public appearance. If they return from Betty Ford respond to treatment in time for Fall, I’ll be sure to share a photo or two. Before moving on to the rest of the roses, there are these, located at the foot of the bed, right next to Judy. Where else?

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Lady’s Slipper Orchids

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Baccalà alla Marchigiana

Wind drying and salting are among the oldest methods of preserving food known to Man. One application of these techniques, dried and salted cod, has been around for hundreds of years and is common throughout much of Europe. In Italy, it is called baccalà; in Portugal, bacalhau; and  you may have seen it in Spanish markets as bacalao. No matter what name is used, if you’ve ever seen it in its dried state, you certainly won’t forget it. Off-white and heavily salted, the preserved fish is sold in pieces about 18 inches long, 4 to 8 inches wide, as much as a half-inch thick, and stiff as a board. Well, except this last piece I bought, which required refrigeration and was actually soft, relatively speaking. (Who knew?) Dried stiff or soft-ish, the cod must be rinsed, again and again, before it can be cooked. (See Notes below.) Once re-hydrated and “de-salted”, you can treat it like you would any fresh fish.

Last week, I spoke of my family’s tradition of serving a seafood feast on Christmas Eve, made possible by Dad’s employment at the restaurant, and mentioned that baccalà was often one of the famed 7 Fishes in many Italian homes. Well, not in our home, much to my dismay. Whether it was because Mom or Dad didn’t like it, or, Mom wasn’t a fan of the prep work, baccalà was a dish served only in Zia’s home. Good thing, too, because although it wasn’t as convenient as having it served at my own dinner table, Zia and her Mother-in-law, Nonna, were masters of its preparation. As a result, as Zia recalls, I was forever trying to snag whatever leftovers I could from their meal. Although both women used the same ingredients, Nonna preferred to bake her baccalà, while Zia cooked hers atop the stove.  As one who “sampled” both preparations, I can attest that each method produced a delicious dish. As for our recipe today, Zia and I combined both methods, partially cooking the dish atop the stove before finishing it off in the oven. Although I wanted to name the dish Baccalà alla Zia, my ever-so-modest Aunt would have none of it. So, to honor both her and Nonna, the recipe is called Baccalà alla Marchigiana — but you and I know its real name.

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Baccalà alla Marchigiana Recipe

Ingredients

  • 3 to 4 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and quartered
  • olive oil
  • salt & pepper, to taste
  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tsp marjoram
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
  • 1 large can (28 oz) tomatoes (whole or diced)
  • 1 lb baccalà, soaked, and cut into 3 inch chunks (See Notes below)
  • salt & pepper, to taste

Directions

  1. Pre-heat oven to 400˚.
  2. Season potatoes with salt & pepper, toss with a splash of olive oil, and roast on a baking sheet for 20 minutes at 400˚.
  3. Meanwhile, in a large frying pan, heat olive oil over med-high heat. Add the onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes
  4. Add garlic & parsley and continue to sauté for another minute.
  5. Add tomatoes & marjoram, bring to boil, reduce to simmer, and cook, uncovered,  for 30 minutes. If sauce is “tight”, meaning too dry, add water.
  6. Add roasted potatoes and continue simmering for another 20 minutes. Add water if necessary.
  7. Add baccalà to the tomato sauce and place pan into the 400˚ oven. Bake for 20 minutes. Taste before seasoning with salt & pepper, if necessary.
  8. Serve immediately.

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Variations

Whereas baccalà is cod that has been salted and dried, stoccafisso is cod that has been dried but not salted. Once properly prepared, both forms can be cooked in a variety of ways. The portions can be baked in a sauce as above, pan-fried, baked, grilled, or poached and served in a salad. Recently, I watched a re-broadcast of Molto Mario as he used baccalà to make “fish balls,” which he deep-fried. In other words, the only thing limiting how baccalà might be prepared is your own imagination. And for those who believe that fresh or frozen cod is just as good as baccalà, I caution against mouthing such heresy in the presence of Zia’s Youngest Son. A word to the wise is sufficient.

Notes

Baccalà must be thoroughly rinsed and soaked before you can cook it. If it is salted and fully dried (pic on left), it will take 2 days to get it re-hydrated and de-salted  (pic on right). This is readily  accomplished by placing it in a large baking  dish filled with cold water and changing the water occasionally over the course of the 2 days. I find it helps to let the water run gently into the dish a few times, as well. If, as was the case with my most recent purchase, your baccalà is not fully dried but refrigerated, you may be able to get away with a 1 day soak. You will know when the fish is ready by its appearance, feel, and, yes, its smell. Be careful, however, not to let it soak for too long or to run the water too forcefully. The fish could lose its firm texture and might even disintegrate.

No post about baccalà would be complete without mention of its “aroma.”  Certainly not as strong as stoccafisso, when first you begin to soak the cod, you will notice it that it smells like, well, dried fish. The smell quickly dissipates in the rinse water and soon its scent compares favorably with any other fish product. Stoccafisso, however, is not so easily rendered scentless and should only be attempted outdoors or in a well-ventilated room. To illustrate my point …

I was about 5 or 6 years old and shared a bedroom with my brother, who was about 10 or 11 years old at the time. Our bedroom, as well as the bedroom of my cousins’ directly above ours, was separated from the rest of the house by a stairwell that ran from the 2nd floor to the basement. One morning, Mom entered our bedroom in a cleaning frenzy, convinced that my brother or I had done, or left, something disgusting in the room. Angels that we were and despite our claims of Godliness, a foul stench had reached her kitchen, which was located on the other side of the stairwell, and our room declared a crime scene — ground zero, in today’s parlance. Lucky for the two of us, Mom found nothing untoward in our room and now, more determined than ever, she set out to find the source of the stench. It wasn’t long before her nose led her to the basement where, under the stairs, she found Grandpa’s stoccafisso, bathing innocently in a tub of water. Well, revenge is a dish best served cold, so Mom patiently bided her time. It wasn’t long before Grandpa left the house, as he did every morning like clockwork. Seizing the opportunity, Mom placed the tub of stoccafisso under his bed and closed his bedroom door as she left. Even Grandpa’s Old Spice, the scent of which permeated that room, proved to be no match for stoccafisso, as Grandpa learned when he opened that door a few hours later. To be sure, Mom and her Father “discussed” the matter but, being so young, I wasn’t privy to that conversation. I do know, however, that Grandpa never soaked stoccafisso under those stairs again.

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Lumache alla Bartolini

This is another within the series of posts which, quite frankly, is not for everyone, not even the intrepid tourist to the left. Truth be told, snails weren’t exactly popular among members of my generation at the old two-flat either. (If you wish to exit, you may do so HERE.) I am probably the only one to have eaten lumache back then and certainly am the only one willing to go back to that well again today. Still, if I’m going to record the family’s recipes for Posterity, I’m not about to start filtering them. Besides, the look on Zia’s face when I unveiled the lumache and announced my plans for dinner was priceless. This blog delights in ways I never dreamt possible!

As I recall, lumache, or babbaluci as they are known in Sicily, was not at all a common dish at our dinner table nor, for that matter, at Zia’s. I only remember them being served 2, maybe 3, times. That’s probably because of the amount of work involved in preparing them for the table. They had to be soaked to rouse them from dormancy, scrubbed, boiled, scrubbed again, and either removed from their shells or left intact for further cooking. As you can imagine, this was no 1 day job. Mom would put water, vinegar, and the dormant lumache into her largest pot; place a colander atop the pot, weighted with a heavy book or pan; and, set it aside to let the lumache come out of their shells. As they came to life, they would leave the water and head up into the colander — hence the reason for the weight. Unfortunately, that weight wasn’t heavy enough to prevent me from snatching a pet when I was about 6 years old. It was, however, too heavy for me to replace properly before I returned to bed, my new pet snail in a water glass at my bedside. Mom was just a tad upset when she woke me the next morning. Her kitchen cupboards and counters were covered with lumache on the lam. Even my pet (the little tattle-trail!) was well on its way to my bedroom’s ceiling by that time. Funny thing. I don’t recall ever having a pet snail after that.

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I’ve chosen to share this recipe today because of Mario Batali. On a recent rebroadcast of Molto Mario, he mentioned that lumache was one of several dishes that the people of Le Marche (the Marchigiani) prepare on All Souls Day. Well, with the Bartolinis being Marchigiani and today being All Soul’s Day, what choice do I have? So, the recipe I’m going to share is the very recipe the Bartolini Girls cooked those many years ago — with 1 exception. There was no way on Earth that I was going to start with dormant lumache. With Max in the house, that is surely a disaster waiting to happen. I can just see him running around my home, trying to lure me into a game of keep-away with some unlucky snail in his mouth, while I’m on a ladder retrieving the rest off of my kitchen’s walls. No, no, no! So, I did a little googling — and it paid off. On Amazon (of course!), I found canned lumache that were cleaned, shelled, trimmed, and ready for stewing. What was once a multi-day, very messy affair suddenly became as easy as preparing a tomato sauce. I ordered them and, once delivered, I packed them up and brought them to Zia for one most memorable dinner.

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Lumache alla Bartolini Recipe 

Ingredients

  • 1 can (15 oz, 48 count) very large size lumache
  • 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 3 garlic cloves, diced
  • 1 can (14 oz) crushed tomatoes
  • 1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes
  • 4 oz dry white wine
  • 3 tbsp parsley
  • 1 tsp marjoram
  • salt & pepper, to taste
Directions

  1. Heat olive oil in medium-sized sauce pan over med-high heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes. Season lightly with salt & pepper.
  2. Add garlic and sauté for another minute before adding the tomatoes, wine, marjoram, and parsley.
  3. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and continue cooking for about 45 minutes or until the tomatoes are cooked and the sauce has darkened.
  4. Add the lumache with the canning liquid and continue to simmer for about 30 minutes more. The sauce should be dark and thick.
  5. Season with salt & pepper, to taste, and serve.

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Serving Suggestions

                                  *                         When she cooked lumache in their shells, Mom served them in deep soup bowls with a chunk of crusty bread on the side. When removed from their shells, lumache may, also, be served as a dressing for pasta or atop polenta.

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Notes

Back in the days preceding Vatican Council II, when eating meat was forbidden on Fridays and other “days of abstinence,” Catholics were allowed to eat lumache because they were considered seafood. Well, in classic Italian cuisine, cheese is very rarely used in a dish featuring seafood and if the Church labels something as seafood, who are we to argue? The use of cheese, therefore, in a dish with lumache is frowned upon. On the other hand, what you serve in your own home is your own business. (Was that thunder?)

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Pasta with Shrimp

Having just returned from a visit with Zia, I decided I had better jot down this recipe while it was still fresh in my mind. This is one of those dishes that I never really think about while I’m preparing it. It just kinda happens. Besides, this wasn’t even the dinner I had planned.

I had intended all along to make  Trenette al Salmone for Zia during my visit. I should have brought smoked salmon with me but I was sure that I could get some in her area’s stores. Well, guess again. I went to her local groceries — “local” meaning 15 and 25 miles away, respectively, in opposite directions — and neither had smoked salmon. One of the stores happened to be running a special on large shrimp (25 – 30-ct), so I bought some and, under her watchful eye, I prepared dinner for us that night.

Like the smoked salmon dish, this is an easy meal to prepare. I prefer to use large, raw shrimp that are peeled, cleaned, and with tails removed. I cut them in half because they are otherwise too large to be eaten with pasta in a single bite, not to mention the larger the shrimp, the fewer to clean and prep. Where this dish differs from that of the smoked salmon, however, is that shrimp have a strong enough flavor that they won’t be overpowered by diced onion and garlic in the sauce. But for the onion and garlic, the same basic cream sauce is used in both dishes and neither uses cheese, as well. Remember, Italian recipes rarely, if ever, use cheese when seafood is a primary ingredient.

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Pasta with Shrimp Recipe

Ingredients

  • 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
  • 1 medium onion, chopped fine
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 1 lb large (25 – 30 ct) shrimp, cleaned, peeled, tails removed, cut in half
  • 1 lb cooked thin spaghetti
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, separated
  • salt & ground white pepper, to taste
  • reserved pasta water

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Directions

  1. Melt butter in a large, deep frying pan over med-high heat.
  2. Add onion and sauté until soft, about 3 minutes.
  3. Add garlic and continue sautéing for another minute.
  4. Add shrimp and sautéing for about 2 minutes. Shrimp should not be thoroughly cooked at this point.
  5. Add the cream and allow shrimp to finish cooking as the cream reduces slightly, about 2 – 3 minutes.
  6. Season with 2 tbsp of the parsley before adding the cooked spaghetti to the pan. Mix until the pasta is well-coated. If necessary, add a little of the reserved pasta water. Taste the dish and season with salt & pepper.
  7. Garnish with remaining tbsp of parsley and serve immediately.

Variations

You will find that different pastas, be they fresh or dried, absorb sauces at different rates. Reserving some of the starchy pasta water will help you deal with a “thirsty” batch of noodles or a sauce that was simmered too strongly and is a little dry. Not only that but the water, being starchy, can be used as somewhat of a thickening agent. Just bear in mind that the water is heavily salted, so, go easy on the salt until after you’ve added the pasta water.

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Brodetto

doubt there’s a European fishing community that doesn’t have its own version of fishermen’s stew. The Italians call it brodetto, the French bouillabaisse, and the Portuguese refer to it as caldeirada. Even in the this country, San Francisco is well-known for its cioppino — the real “San Fransisco treat,” in my book. Although some of the ingredients may vary by country and region within each country, the dish’s origins are often the same. The village fishermen would gather together at the end of a very long day and into a large pot they would add whatever fish that hadn’t been sold, a few vegetables, some spices, and a little wine. A short while later, with some crusty bread in hand, each would sit back and enjoy a feast among friends, no doubt filling the night air with tales of the ones that got away.

Living in Chicago, we have a wide assortment of seafood available, some of which is fresh while the rest has been flash frozen for shipment here. Although I prefer fresh, I will buy frozen and usually have shrimp and a variety of fish fillets in my freezer. If I see a sale somewhere for fresh mollusks, be they little neck or manila clams, mussels, or cockles, I’ll buy some, along with some scallops, and that night’s dinner will be brodetto. The recipe I’ll follow then is the one that I’m going to share with you now. And just like the stew the old fishermen threw together, the amount and types of seafood in my brodetto may vary but the basics remain the same. Fish, mollusks, and shrimp are added to a simple tomato broth flavored with a few herbs, garlic, and wine. Serve it in a bowl with some crusty bread, like ciabatta, and you’ll have a spectacular dinner, as well as a new-found respect for those fishermen of old.

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Brodetto Recipe

Yield: 6 generous servings

Ingredients

  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 1/4 to 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
  • 1 cup stock (fish, clam, vegetable, or chicken)
  • 1 cup dry white wine
  • 1  large can (28 oz) whole or large dice tomatoes. (or 8 to 10 fresh plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and chopped into large pieces)
  • 3 or 4 stems of fresh thyme
  • 1/2 tsp Italian seasoning
  • 18 little neck or 24 manila clams or cockles
  • 1 doz mussels
  • 3/4 lb large shrimp
  • 1 doz scallops
  • 1 – 1 1/2 lbs fish fillets, cut into large, equal sized pieces (cod, haddock, halibut, striped bass, pollock, red snapper, or any combination may be used)
  • salt and pepper
  • 2 tbsp fresh basil, chopped, for garnish
  • extra virgin olive oil, for garnish

Directions

  1. At least an hour before you start cooking, scrub all the mollusks with a brush and soak the clams and cockles in cold water. Change the water at least once in the next hour. If using mussels, before scrubbing, grab hold of the “beard” and pull to remove. Keep cold until ready to cook.
  2. Once the mollusks have been sufficiently soaked and cleaned, heat olive oil in a large saucepan over med-high heat. Add red pepper flakes and cook for 1 minute.
  3. Add onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
  4. Add garlic and parsley and continue sautéing for another minute or so.
  5. Add stock and wine, using the liquids to deglaze the pan.
  6. Add the tomatoes. If using canned whole tomatoes, use your hands to tear the tomatoes before placing the chunks into the pan. This is a stew, not a sauce. Large chunks are preferable.
  7. Add thyme and Italian seasoning. Season lightly with salt & pepper.
  8. Bring pot to the boil, reduce heat to med-low, and simmer for 30 to 40 minutes. If stew becomes too dry, add water or stock.
  9. Increase heat to med-high, add clams and/or cockles and cover the pan.
  10. After about 3 minutes, add the mussels and cover.
  11. About 3 minutes later, place the shrimp atop the mollusks and return the cover to the pan.
  12. 2 minutes later, add the scallops and cover the pan.
  13. About a minute later, add the fish to the top of the stew, cover the pan, and cook until all is done, about 3 or 4 minutes.
  14. Serve immediately in large bowls, garnished with a sprinkling of good quality extra virgin olive oil and freshly chopped basil. Be sure to have plenty of good, crusty bread available.

Notes

The recipe I’ve just shared is by no means set in stone. I imagine that the fishermen of long ago weren’t too strict about their ingredients. I think their only concerns were that the seafood was fresh and the wine plentiful. The rest took care of itself. Today, recipes abound and it’s not just the seafood that varies from one recipe to the next. Oftentimes vegetables will be added to the stew, with bell peppers, fennel, and potatoes frequently mentioned. Some cooks will start the recipe by creating and sautéing a soffritto of chopped onion, celery, and carrot. What does all this mean for you? Well, do you have a preference for, say, crab claws? Then add them to the mix. Don’t like mussels? Don’t use them. Want more of a vegetable base for your stew? Then start with a soffritto and add whatever veggies you like. In short, indulge your palate and make the recipe your own.

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