Seafood

I had a dish similar to this one in Provence at least twenty years ago and have never stopped making it. Few preparations do as much justice to dark-fleshed fish. Like many “grilled” dishes, this one is better made in the broiler, where you have far more control. A potato gratin, like the one on page 482, would be suitable here, as would Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477). Of course, a simple vegetable dish or two would also be wonderful, as mackerel is pretty rich in its own right.

We tend to think of grilling as the ideal way to cook many foods, but the broiler is more valuable when you want to save a marinade and the fish’s pan juices. A recipe like this one was originally cooked in a pan over an open fire, and you can certainly follow that tradition, but the broiler makes quick work of it. Though the dish is French, it’s very southern, and I might serve a simple pasta beforehand; Tomatoes Provençal (page 494) would also be in the right spirit, as would a simple salad.

Couscous is a small pasta—not a grain as most people believe—as well as the name of almost every North African dish that contains it. So there are innumerable fish, vegetable, meat, and chicken couscous dishes (see pages 526 to 527 for a couple of others). You can cook the couscous separately (see page 526) or steam it on top of the simmering stew, a nice touch for which you will need either a special utensil called a couscoussière or a steamer rigged inside of a covered pot in which you cook the sauce. If you are not comfortable cooking pieces of whole fish, substitute a firm fillet like red snapper or grouper and reduce the fish cooking time to about 10 minutes; do not overcook.

Dates, of course, are a staple food of the Sahara and many other deserts; they grow on palm trees, keep forever, and, to nomads, are far more important than any bread product. But only in coastal North Africa and parts of the Middle East does date country meet the sea and a dish like this come about. Substitute prunes for dates if you prefer. A simple pilaf, chosen from among those on pages 513 to 514, would be great here, as would Houria (page 191).

This is an interesting technique: the fish is oven steamed, with just a tiny bit of liquid, thus retaining all of its own juices. Traditionally the packages would be made with banana or other large leaves, and they would be buried in hot ashes. Foil is much more convenient, if not quite as interesting or flavorful. If you make this with fillets, the cooking time will be under 10 minutes. Serve this with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477) and a lightly dressed vegetable.

This dish is popular throughout Southeast Asia (I had it in Vietnam), where firm-fleshed river fish are plentiful. Carp is an excellent choice for freshwater fish, as is wild catfish (I’m not a fan of farmed catfish), but red snapper or sea bass is also good. Lime leaves are not always available; substitute grated lime zest if necessary. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). This would be great with Green Papaya Salad (without the shrimp, page 198).

Lemongrass, the seasoning most closely associated with Southeast Asia, plays a major role here, despite the presence of many other ingredients. Nothing else “cleans” the taste of the fish quite like it. Serve with any rice dish.

The highlight of many meals in Chinese restaurants, yet few dishes are easier to prepare at home. Start with a medium-sized firm-fleshed fish—black bass and red snapper are ideal, but grouper or, if you can find it, small striped bass, are also good—preferably with its head on (if the head won’t fit in your steamer, cut it off, along with the tail). Scales must be removed and the fish must be thoroughly cleaned; any fishmonger can do this for you. Serve the fish with white rice and, preferably, a few other Chinese dishes.

It doesn’t take long, but this dish requires a fairly large pan. A long, narrow roasting pan will do in a pinch, especially if it’s nonstick. If you have trouble getting the fish to fit into your pan, by all means cut off its head and tail. Or try making this with smaller fish, in the 2- to 3-pound range. Then, when you feel you’ve gotten the hang of browning a whole fish, move on to larger specimens. This is a blast to eat—and should have enough sauce to make plain white rice a terrific accompaniment. A simple Chinese-style vegetable like Snow Peas with Ginger (page 470) would make the meal even better.

Not far from the cooking traditions of American freshwater fishermen, this is simple panfried fish with a separately made sauce. If you’re shopping, look for small specimens of black sea bass or red snapper; if you’re fishing, large mouth bass, croaker, spot, and porgies are all good. In any case, you need the fish to fit in your pan. In fact, two small fish are better than one large one in this instance. Use the best soy sauce you can find for this dish. There’s not much sauce here, so unless you’re from a rice-eating culture, you might find rice a bit dry. Cold Noodles with Sesame Sauce (page 532) would make a great starter, or you could serve this with Egg Noodles with Spring Onions (page 536). For vegetables, try Quick-Braised Root Vegetables with Hoisin (page 499) or Snow Peas with Ginger (page 470).

Best done with small fish—four 1-pound red snappers or black bass are ideal—this technique, among the world’s easiest and most reliable, can also be used with larger fish. But I wouldn’t go above a couple of pounds each, or cooking them through under the broiler will be tricky. Bear in mind that some broilers (especially electric ones) may cycle on and off, which is undesirable here; if you prop open the door, the heating element is more likely to remain on. You could, of course, serve this as you would any plain broiled fish, with a salad and vegetable or starch, for example. Typical Japanese choices might be rice (of course), along with Chicken and Cucumber Salad (without the chicken, page 182) or Eggplant Salad with Mustard-Miso Dressing (page 185).

A useful technique for any dark-fleshed fish, including whole mackerel or bluefish (which may be stuffed with the onion mixture), steaks of Spanish mackerel, or fillets of pompano; adjust the cooking time accordingly. I really like pasta before this—something quite simple, like Pasta with Pepper and Cheese (page 547) or Pasta with Broccoli Raab (page 552).

Simple skewers brushed, after grilling, with an easy, traditional Sicilian sauce. Grill some vegetables at the same time if you like. For an indoor version, see the variation.

Call this fish with puttanesca sauce—strong flavored, and swordfish can really take it. Serve with plenty of crusty bread or scoop out the fish after it cooks, put the sauce over pasta, and serve the fish on the side.

Rémoulade is an all-purpose fish sauce, a super spicy, chunky variation on mayonnaise and perhaps the Platonic ideal of tartar sauce. You can use it with poached, baked, fried, even leftover fish, but I think it’s best with grilled fish. Swordfish is the most obvious candidate, but you can grill steaks of cod, mahimahi, mako, salmon, or tuna and serve them with rémoulade; monkfish is also good. This combination is pretty rich; I’d be satisfied with a decent bread and a salad or steamed vegetable dressed with no more than lemon juice.

A delicate and subtle preparation that can also be made with monkfish, striped bass, sea bass, or other firm-fleshed fish. Serve with Braised Leeks (page 465).

The fish equivalent of classic beef stew, and definitely a winter dish,with its base of root vegetables. You can, of course, vary the vegetables according to what you have in your pantry—cauliflower, zucchini, eggplant, and even okra will work well. The stew should be very thick, not really soupy at all; so though you may add water as necessary while cooking, be sure not to add too much. Since the fish is added when the vegetables are just about done, you can substitute almost any white-fleshed fish or even shellfish. Just adjust the cooking time as necessary. Serve this on top of rice or with crusty bread.

Spring through fall, you may be able to find wild Alaska king or sockeye salmon (if you live in the Northwest or even on the West Coast, this won’t be a problem), and that is ideal for this dish. Farm-raised salmon, available year-round everywhere, is certainly an acceptable substitute, but it is fattier and has less flavor, so it’ll make a bit more of a mess when you brown it, and it will not stand up quite as well to the sauce. Serve this with short-grain rice (page 507).

This is a more complicated use of miso, useful not only for fish but for meat (just substitute tenderloin for the tuna). I learned it from Japanese-born chef Tadashi Ono, who now lives in New York. His dual lives encouraged Ono to take a few liberties of the type that few would take in Japan, with a classic sauce like this one; but if this is fusion cooking, it’s the good kind. The Japanese chili paste called tohbanjan is strictly traditional here, but you can use Vietnamese or Korean chili paste or simply cayenne. I love this with Basmati Rice with Shiso (page 510).

A wonderful technique and combination of flavors that works so well with swordfish that I would be reluctant to substitute (Spanish mackerel, usually quite difficult to find, would be a good alternative). If you’re unfamiliar with lemongrass, trim its ends, then slit and peel its tough outer layer to expose the tender core; you usually get about 1 tablespoon from each stalk. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). Sticky Rice (page 508) is the thing here, along with a lightly dressed salad or very simple vegetable dish.