Learning to Love: Fennel

I've always thought people were full of it when they said, "...you either love it or you hate it!" about pretty much anything. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of people who aren't passionate either way about corn, Dancing with the Stars or leggings, among other things. But I finally realized that there was indeed one thing people really felt torn on: licorice. I have yet to meet anyone that shrugs their shoulders and says, 'eh' when asked if they like it (and if it's you, please let me know), instead always hearing proclamations of disgust or lust. I've always hated anything that tasted remotely of licorice, whether it was a jelly bean, sambuca or grilled fennel. But thanks to my CSA and the overall seasonal eating trend I've come face to face with fennel in more iterations than I care to remember. From cold fennel shooters to grilled fennel salad and fennel pollen dusted sweetbreads, try as I might to escape it each fall I can't, and last week it caught up with me in my CSA box. For once I hoped that I'd arrived too late, that all of the fennel had been taken by the licorice loving foodies of the group, but alas it seemed there was plenty left for me to experiment with. So I trotted home with it in my tote and began to wonder what I could possibly do with one of my most hated flavors.

I eventually settled on a soup since that was the one fennel flavored dish I had ever managed to enjoy. I looked back on the fennel soup I'd tasted almost exactly a year ago at Blue Hill at Stone Barns for inspiration. Our server had asked if there were any ingredients we did not like, and not wanting to limit the chef's creativity (even though I knew it was fennel season), we said no--we're open to anything. So imagine how far my heart sank when the first course to come out of the kitchen was a bowl of fennel soup. Much to my surprise it was pure white and velvety on the tongue with just the lightest air of fennel. It wasn't in-your-face fennel but its presence was definitely felt and tasted. Except for a handful of things (say...bacon or cheese) I generally feel that everything in moderation is a good mantra to follow and it seems like fennel is at its best when used in that way.

Armed with the memory of a soup I hadn't tasted in a year, I headed into the kitchen to make what I hoped would be a close approximation in both flavor and texture to the one at Blue Hill. In the end I decided that potato would be the perfect foil for softening the fennel's flavor and adding some body to the whole soup. I began by peeling and chopping the potatoes into fairly small chunks (so they take only 10-15 minutes to cook through) and then boiling them in salted water. Meanwhile I added 2 chopped scallions (for a mellow onion flavor), 2 roughly chopped garlic cloves and the chopped fennel to a non-stick skillet with two tablespoons of butter. I seasoned the mixture lightly with salt and let it sweat until everything was softened. Then I drained the potatoes, reserving 2 cups of the cooking liquid for thinning out the soup in the blender. Then I tossed the potatoes and the fennel mixture into the blender along with 1 cup of chicken stock to help it blend. Then I slowly added the warm cooking liquid until I got a silky smooth texture. It didn't even end up needing any salt or pepper, and it came together in about half an hour total. The soup wound up tasting exactly as I'd wanted. It was clearly a creamy fennel soup (with no actual cream), but the flavor was subtle and smooth. I can't say that I'm completely in love with fennel, but like so many things (Britney Spears, perhaps?) I've learned to live with it's existence, and even enjoy it in small doses. Here's the final recipe:

Creamy Fennel Soup

1 small fennel bulb, roughly chopped
2 green onions/scallions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
2 large or 3 small Idaho potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
2 Tbsp butter
1 cup chicken stock (non-tomato based veggie stock would work here too)

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until done, about 15 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, heat the butter in a non-stick skillet and cook garlic, green onions and fennel on medium low heat until softened, about 7 minutes. Season with salt while cooking

3. Drain the potatoes, reserving about 2 cups of the cooking liquid for the soup. Allow them a few minutes to cool, then add potatoes and fennel mixture to a blender along with the chicken stock. Puree and add reserved cooking liquid until the soup thins out to a velvety consistency. Taste for salt and serve topped with croutons or fennel fronds. Enjoy!

-Laura

Chic Me Out

Each and every one of us suffers from a certain culinary shame. I, for one, have been known to hide my overly buttered popcorn from a date at the movies for fear he may run away at the sight of the several cups of artificial butter I've pumped onto the already generously buttered kernels. In college I was known to keep an over-sized duffel bag overflowing with instant Top Ramen packets tucked under my bed, hidden behind my sky high platform penny loafers and retro go-go boots. And since I've already opened Pandora's box of embarrassing food moments, I might as well reveal my most secret food shame: I love iceberg lettuce. It's true. And I know what you're thinking, because I've heard the same thing a million times. "But Laura, it has no nutritional value!" No, it doesn't, but frankly, I don't eat it for nutritional value. I eat it because it's crunchy and delicious. Is there a better reason?

But of course, the time has come for me to evolve into a mature eater with a varied and sophisticated palette. That, and the combination of fires and droughts in California have caused the price of iceberg lettuce to skyrocket. Fortunately for me I have been trying to eat more vegetation from as close by as possible, so I've been passing on iceberg lettuce and it's ridiculous price tag for the past few months. Instead I've been doing my best to eat whatever lettuces and greens are in season, readily available, and affordable. Spring is a great time to experiment with new lettuces and different salads because so many wonderful greens come into season. I happen to have a strange obsession with sour, bitter and tart foods, so I decided to stock up on some chicory lettuce this weekend. Chicory definitely has a bitter after taste and a slightly curly leaf. If you don't like chicory, (and many people don't) you can still get mesclun, mâche (which is delicate and beautiful, also known as lambs lettuce) and several other spring lettuces.

I also decided to experiment with fennel, which for a long time I convinced myself I hated (because I detest licorice). It's also in season, as are Valencia oranges, so I figured I'd throw a few of those into this salad that I was concocting. I generally don't make too many salads, and I like to keep them rather simple when I do, but I find that my favorite salads generally contain some kind of fruit element. This time I used not only orange segments, but also the juice from the remaining orange 'carcass', which served to mask some of the chicory's bitterness. For crunch, smoke, and saltiness I cooked up some bacon, which really added a nice dimension to the salad. The dressing was simply orange juice, olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt, pepper and a hearty teaspoon of sugar to mask a bit more of that chicory bitterness. This salad is not only beautiful, but the flavors are really well balanced. It's perfect for a dinner party or entertaining because it's super impressive but really easy to make. Don't be afraid to really be heavy handed with the dressing in this instance either. Normally it's important to use just enough dressing to lightly coat the leaves, but in this case you want to make sure each leaf has a good amount of dressing to compliment the chicory and mask that biterness. Here's how to make it:


Chicory and Fennel Salad with Bacon and Oranges

4 cups chicory lettuce, washed and dried
3 strips cooked crispy bacon, cut into 1 inch pieces
1 cup thinly sliced fennel
1 large orange, cut into sections or supremes (do not discard body of orange)
extra virgin olive oil (about 3-4 Tbsp)
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp white sugar
1 tsp orange zest
salt
pepper

1. Combine lettuce, bacon, fennel and orange in a large bowl. Drizzle with olive oil and vinegar. Squeeze juice from what's left of the segmented orange and add to the lettuce mixture. Toss to combine.

2. Add sugar, orange zest, salt and pepper and toss to combine. Enjoy!

-Laura