Monday, January 7, 2008

the curse of the bouillabaisse

cooking and knowledge have always been synonymous for me. I've learnt to cook primarily through reading and record keeping, and conversely have come to understanding the chemistry, traditions and methodologies through experiential processes in the kitchen. consequently, my culinary knowledge is built around The Rules.

new years eve. a group of friends In a garden enjoying a seafood feast.

someone began reminiscing about an old friend, known to some of us. the friend had grown up on an island and insisted that he'd always eaten the mussels that don't open when they're cooked, and it's perfectly safe to do so. we all agreed that this was breaking The Rules, but none of us has ever been brave enough to test the theory.

a few days later, we acquired a whole ocean trout from the market, a wonderful orange treasure with sparkling eyes and a good amount of belly fat.

JG filleted the fish for sashimi and fillets to freeze, and suggested we use the skeleton to make stock the following night. somewhere in my head, an upstanding English voice pronounced The Rule that fish stock must be made with a flat fish with minimal fat, ideally a turbot. but I've never even seen a turbot. why does it need to be a turbot? what do they mean by 'flat'? can you use a flounder? and what about flathead, which would surely make pretty ordinary stock?

so I broke The Rule and made fish stock with ocean trout:
1 fish skeleton (including head)
1 onion, sectioned
5 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped
a few parsley stalks
salt and pepper
3 litres of water

boil rapidly for 20 minutes, then strain. remove and shred any useful flesh from the bones and set aside .

this made a strikingly orange and delicious stock. it was destined for fish soup and I was thinking about bouillabaisse. the famous soup from Marseilles constitutes Another Rule in itself, that is, unless you're from Provençe and related to a fisherman, or begged the knowledge from someone who is, you cannot make authentic bouillabaisse, you can only make fish soup. In fact, in 1980 a group of Marseilles restauranters signed a Bouillabaisse Charter agreeing to uphold the authenticity of the original recipe, although the details are contested.

just to get some ideas for my fish soup and without any lurking intention of breaking The Rule, I checked Larousse to get the low down from Prosper Montagné, that oracle of The Rules.

alas, Prosper says that there are as many authentic recipes for bouillabaisse as there are combinations of fish, and the authenticity lies in the etymology: from bouillir to boil and abaisser to reduce. the soup has an origin similar to paella- a dish cooked by men outdoors over a fire. in this case it was cooked on the beach by fishermen wanting to use up the catch they couldn't sell. as a result it usually contains rascasse, (scorpion or rockfish- unfamiliar to me and sounds rather indigestible) and little crabs and other shellfish. the fish and shellfish are removed at the end of cooking and served in a separate dish from the soup, which is poured over dry slices of a local bread called marette. this must be the origin of the most recognisable contemporary form: the fish served in the soup, topped with a large crouton rubbed with garlic and drizzled with rouille, the addictive saffron and chilli sauce.

the soup should be flavoured with olives, pepper, parsley, saffron and other spices, and dried orange peel. and since I was clearly going to break The Rules at this point by venturing to make bouillabaisse when I'm not Provençal or a man, fisher or otherwise, I had to break some more and substitute olives for capers and dried orange peel for fresh lemon rind.

the interpretation:

fry a finely chopped onion, some salt and a whole bay leaf in a little olive oil in the soup pot, slow to medium so it doesn't brown.

add pepper, and about 15 strands of saffron ground up with a little salt and mix this into the oil.

add a few finely chopped cloves of garlic.

peel and chop 3 tomatoes and stir this in when the onion is soft.

add a cup of white wine and simmer away for 5 minutes or so, until the wine is quite reduced.

pour in the fish stock, add some parsley stalks, lemon rind and capers and bring to a rapid boil.

add cleaned mussels and any other shellfish, and the reserved shredded flesh and continue to boil rapidly for another few minutes, until the mussels are open.

if using delicate pieces of fillet this will break up in a rapid boil, so turn the heat off and gently immerse the fish in the soup, leaving to stand for another 5 minutes with the lid on.

remove parsley stalks and lemon rind, then carefully spoon fish and shellfish into serving bowls and ladle soup over. add chopped parsley, and bread and rouille if desired.

opting for simplicity, we had our soup with just mussels and filleted pieces of trout, without bread or rouille, but I highly recommend rouille as a sauce for fish and so must include the recipe:

for rouille (not according to The Rules but the version I always make)

half a roasted capsicum
1 fresh red chilli, chopped
a handful of breadcrumbs moistened with water
6 strands saffron
1 tsp hot paprika
good squeeze of lemon juice
2 anchovy fillets
2 cloves garlic
1/2 cup oil

pound everything except the oil in a mortar and pestle, or blitz in a food processor, gradually adding the oil to form a smooth sauce.

later that night

JG came back to bed moaning with sickness and I feared my wonderful orange interpretation of bouillabaisse had made him ill.

"No it's not that" he said; "I ate the mussel that didn't open".