A few summers ago, I spent a week in a little town on Puget Sound for a college reunion. We were twenty kids in a house of three bedrooms. You couldn’t travel very far without tripping on empty bottles of Magic Hat. You got to love those Vermont brews.
Most of the gang was comprised of leftover college couples. Little did they know that the post collegiate, break-up plague would decimate them shortly. Symptoms had already sprung with most spending the weekend either fucking or fighting. The two big “F’s.” I was flying solo and, rightly so, took the largest bedroom.
“Shouldn’t couples get priority for beds?” asked one girl. Oh please, cry me a fucking river. I don’t think you’ll be doing much sleeping.
When three o’clock rolled around on that lazy Saturday, I sensed that the natives were getting hungry.
“What’s up for dinner,” I asked our host
“Ummm,” she hummed starting for the fridge, “zucchini?”
Hell no. There was no way that I and this group of strapping, New England stock were chowing down on zucchini for dinner. Summer squash does not an entrée make. Sensing impending doom, I decided to scavenge for food. Time to explore the frontier, pioneer style. Something like “The Simple Life” meets the Pacific Northwest.
With the water before me, I immediately thought fish. Big fish. I made my way into town where I spotted a fisherman by the docks. He wasn’t very old but life at sea had aged him – lined face, cracked hands, steady gaze. He could use a good facial.
“Got any fish?” I said, like an idiot. He looked at me like was crazy. I definitely screamed, “city folk.”
“Yeah, I got fish,” he mumbled, at which point he climbed onto his boat and returned with a very much alive, 10-pound, sockeye salmon. Doesn’t get more wild-caught than that. Whole Foods had nothing on this guy. I watched in awe as he manhandled the beast. He grabbed an ice pick and asked me if I wanted to do the honors. I could tell he was testing me – the weak, urbanite with a ponytail in her hair and Tom’s on her feet. I hesitated. This was the moment to prove I wasn’t some skinny bitch from Los Angeles.
“All right.”
All etiquette concerning animal cruelty flew by the wayside as I clobbered the thing. The hunter in me took over. I gritted my teeth. It was me against fish. Big fish. After years in the pristine world of liberal arts academia, it was all so raw.
Out of breath, I caught his gaze. He smiled and nodded. He was just so manly, so sexy. Next to the hipster dweebs I had dated in college, he looked like a Greek God. Good lord, look at those bicep. In the great words of Ron Burgundy I whispered, “I want to be on you.” Who knew that fish guts could ignite such passion?
It could never work though. He was a man of the sea. I was a woman of N-Y-C. We were two star-crossed lovers. Plus, I couldn’t take him anywhere with that ice pick in his back pocket.
While I can’t give you a steamy fisherman and a 10-pound salmon, I leave you with this.
Whole Roasted Branzino Herb Infused Oil
Herb Infused Oil
1 cup of olive oil
½ tsp. of fennel seeds
½ tsp. of dried thyme
½ tsp. of black peppercorns
I make the oil a few days in advance as the longer it sits, the better it tastes. Combine the oil and herbs in a small saucepan and heat over a low flame for ten minutes. Do not let the oil come to a boil! You’re dealing with hot oil here; not the time to get adventurous.
Turn off the heat and let the oil sit for 1 hour or until completely cooled. Once cooled, transfer to a container and refrigerate. The oil should last up to two weeks. Besides the fish, it goes great with a crusty baguette, goat cheese or salami.
Branzino with Dill and Sliced Lemons
¾-1 pound of whole branzino
1 lemon, thinly sliced and halved
1 bunch of dill
Flour
Sprinkling of salt and pepper
Heat the oven to 450 degrees. Again, it will probably only get to 400, but miracles do happen.
Have a look at your branzino. It should be firm, shiny and moist. The eyes should be clear and bright, not cloudy. Give it a little whiff. If it smells bad – and you will know if it does – do not eat it, duh. You should be able to figure this one out.
Ask the fishmonger to clean, gut and scale the fish. Don’t pretend that you have time to do this after work. The last thing you want is fish guts flying around your apartment. This is not Outward Bound.
Salt and pepper the inside of the fish and fill with dill and lemon slices. Dredge the fish in flour. For you culinary novices, this means coat the fish with flour. The flour helps brown the fish and gives the skin a nice crunch. It also helps seal in moisture preventing the sucker from drying out.
Heat olive oil in a nonstick pan. I know, Teflon is creepy but it only actually decomposes at temperatures above 500 degrees Fahrenheit. So, don’t do that. Place the fish in the pan and sear for a minute to a minute and half until golden brown. Don’t freak if the fish doesn’t quite fit the pan. Mine doesn’t. This is simply the reality of a tiny kitchen – tiny pots and tiny pans. It’s just an unfortunate reality. Life isn’t fair.
You can cut off the tail for a better fit but that’s an insult to the fish. At least preserve its integrity as a cohesive whole before you eat it. You should be able to look that thing in the eye in a symbolic gesture of brotherhood. Me: man and you: fish. Don’t worry. The tail will eventually cook when roasted in the oven.
When flipping the fish to sear the other side, you will fuck this up. This takes practice and a certain lightness of touch, which if this is your first encounter with branzino, you don’t have. The good news is, the fish tastes the same no matter the outcome. Use a metal spatula to free the fish from the pan and a pair of tongs to flip. Be gentle, but firm – you know the drill fellas.
After searing on both sides, transfer the fish to a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Roast in the oven for 8 to 10 minutes depending on the size of your fish. The flesh should transition from opaque to translucent. To ensure that it’s cooked through, check under the head. This part of the fish takes the longest to cook and will signal if the fish is done.
Remove from the oven and allow to rest for five minutes. Drizzle with your herb oil and serve with roasted baby potatoes. If you’re a pussy who needs their fish filleted, you can figure that one out yourself.