Friday, June 4, 2010

white fish, sauce vierge

fish red bell pepper,sauce vierge

My heart is filled with joy and warmth toward all of humanity.

Today at the fish counter I go, "That white fish next to the wild salmon looks muy delicioso."

Guy behind the counter, a handsome chap, looked a little out of place there, "It does look muy delicioso," in pitch-perfect gringo-accented Spanish. I love it when people echo my mixed language. It connects us instantly.

"What is it anyway?"

"Dunno. Just got here and it wasn't marked." He shuffled fish-tags as one would examine a deck of cards. "I have no idea what it is."

"Whatever. I'd like to take the one nearest you."

Still looking for a tag, becoming distressed because other people were waiting. He paged for help. Another guy arrived but by then the other customers dispersed so now it was me and those two workers. One of them goes to the back to look for a similar package, comes back empty. They concurred to give me the fish for free.

FREE, I said.

But I have no idea exactly what type of fish it is. It doesn't matter. It's tender, flaky white.

First, the rest of the red bell pepper, cut into strips, burnt briefly in a trace of oil, and removed to a plate. The pan is now ready to toast the crushed peppercorns and coriander seeds.

Sauce vierge, literally, virgin sauce. So-called because it's pure, no mucking about. Chosen for this fish because I, myself, am so goddamn pure and simple.

screen shot

Uh oh.

You're supposed to use a couple plum tomatoes, I used one heirloom tomato. Nice substitution there. Nearly zero seeds.

* black peppercorns + coriander seeds crushed in a stone smasher. Mortar and pestle, that's it, except I don't know which is which. At any rate, there's more control over granular size than there is with the coffee grinder. Plus dragging it out builds up one's arm muscles. Extra plus you get to pound and make a bit of noise. Heat this in the pan the bell pepper strips were singed .

coriander,pepper

coriander pepper crushed

* 1/4 cup olive oil, to kill the smoke from the heating seeds. Give it a minute to flavor before adding the allium members, whatever you've chosen.

* Shallot segment + garlic clove, finely diced. Just to heat through. No point in sweating them to death. Sufficient to flavor the oil and to take the edge off the garlic, about a minute.

shallot

garlic

* tomato, finely diced. Heat cut off, warmed through, not cooked. See? It's a virgin and it stays that way, diced yes, heated yes, but not cooked.

Man, I'm tellin' ya, French people sure have strange ideas about virginity. Anyway.

* lemon. It must be lemon. It cannot be lime, It cannot be citron. It cannot be rice vinegar, or champaign vinegar, or cider vinegar, or wine vinegar, or raspberry vinegar, it MUST be lemon. It must be a perfect lemon, or just forget about the whole thing.

Kidding.

lemon

* basil + flat-leaf parsley, at the very very very end. I used cilantro because that's what I have, and I'm not that big on parsley anyway, so disinclined to have it on hand. I know, I know, it's fundamental, but so?

I love the way this coats my lips like melted lip-balm. I like it so much I'm reticent to wipe it off, and so sit there with a milk-mustache except it's flavored olive oil. It's unctuousness coats the entire mouth on contact and the delicate fish slides right through, but that unction is cut with lemon and it carries the flavors of spice and herb, the aromatic herbs having prepared the way. It is wonderfully simple, it is simply wonderful. I resist the impulse to lick the empty plate -- because what you think I am over here, unmannered?

Fish pan-fried in olive oil. It tightened up and was it taking too long to suit me so I brought out the lid, dumped 1/2 cup water into the pan, and covered it. Let it steam for a minute, then removed it. It was cooked perfectly, if I may say so. But only about half the people I know would accept that determination. The half that wouldn't agree, frankly, do not know whereof they opine. Inlanders, I say, without the first clue how seafood is to be treated.

[When I was questioning the fish at the counter, the guy goes, "Dya wanna try some?" I honestly thought he intended me to sample it raw. So braced for spontaneous raw fish, I go, "Really? Raw?" He goes, "No. No. No. I meant, would you like to take some home to try." And I'm all, what's the fun in that?]

This is so easy to eat, honestly, I could consume ten times this amount and not be full or tire of it.

Is it worth the trouble of making the sauce? Yes. No trouble at all. I tasted the fish by itself, and I must say that it's nothing special, but this sauce alters everything amazingly.



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