Showing posts with label tuna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tuna. Show all posts

Saturday, September 14, 2024

LOVE THE FISH YOU’RE WITH

 
Sorropotún is a Cantabrian fishermen's stew of albacore tuna and potatoes.

Summer is the season for fresh albacore tuna, in Spanish known as bonito del norte or atún blanco, white tuna. Fished off the Cantabrian coast (northern Spain), albacore is commercially important for the canning industry.

I love albacore for sashimi (raw), for grilling and for fish stews. But here it is, almost fall, and somehow I kept missing the albacore (Thunnus alalunga) in local markets. I will just have to go with what I’ve got, love the fish I’m with. I’ve got some big pieces of listado, skipjack tuna (Katsuwonus pelamis), in the freezer in anticipation of sashimi. I marinated bonito (Sarda sarda, not the same as bonito del norte) for a cold escabeche salad. Today I found a smaller fish of the same family, melva, or frigate mackerel, to make the fishermen’s stew. 

Like bluefin tuna, melva is dark red.
Unlike albacore which is very light-fleshed, these alternative fish, like atún rojo, bluefin (Thunnus thynnus), are dark, bloody red. To lighten them Spanish cooks usually soak the fish in ice water with salt and vinegar before cooking . 

This Cantabrian stew of albacore and potatoes, called sorropotún or marmita, was traditionally made on board fishing vessels with simple ingredients—chunks of fish, potatoes, wine, olive oil, dry choricero peppers. You can embellish it as you like—fish stock instead of water, herbs, spices. 

Choricero and ñora are two kinds of bittersweet (not hot) dry peppers. After the peppers have cooked awhile, their flesh is scraped from the insides and incorporated in the stew. Pimentón (paprika) is a simple substitute or else puree roasted red bell peppers or piquillos in a blender to make a red paste. 

The preferred technique for cutting up the potatoes is called chascar. Instead of slicing or dicing them with a knife, you snap off irregular-sized pieces that release starch that thickens the stew in cooking. Use the knife to cut into a potato, then bend it towards you to break off the chunk of potato. 

The stew traditionally was served with strips of stale bread on top to soak up the juices. A very tasty way to do this is to top the servings with croutons of fried bread or croutons that have been crushed to crunchy crumbs.

Potatoes, green peppers, onions and red pepper paste are the basis of the stew. Add pieces of fish once the potatoes are tender. 



Crunchy crumbs of fried bread top a serving of the stew.


Cantabrian Fishermen’s Stew
Sorropotún

After soaking, fish is not so dark red.

1 pound filleted and skinned fresh albacore tuna or substitute
1 teaspoon vinegar (optional)
Salt 
3 tablespoons olive oil
½ cup finely chopped onion
½ cup green pepper cut in strips
¼ cup roasted red peppers or piquillo peppers or 2 tablespoons choricero pulp
1 teaspoon pimentón (paprika, not smoked)
¼ cup white wine
1 pound potatoes
1 bay leaf
Fennel, thyme or oregano (optional)
3 cups fish stock or water
Freshly ground black pepper
Chopped parsley
Strips of bread or crunchy croutons (optional)

Cut the tuna into bite-size pieces. If desired, place it in a bowl, cover with cold water. Add vinegar and ½ teaspoon salt. Cover and refrigerate 30 minutes. Drain well before cooking.

Cook potatoes in water or stock.
Heat the oil in a cazuela or deep skillet. Sauté the onions on medium heat until softened, 3 minutes. Add the green pepper and sauté 2 minutes more.

Puree the red or piquillo peppers in a blender with the pimentón and wine. Stir into the pan and cook 2 minutes. 

Peel the potatoes and snap them into bite-size pieces. Add potatoes to the pan with the bay leaf, herbs if using and fish stock or water. If using water, add 1 teaspoon of salt. Add the pepper. Cook on medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the potatoes are tender, 25 to 30 minutes. Add the drained tuna and cook until it loses its pink color, 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and allow to stand 5 minutes before serving. Garnish with chopped parsley. If desired, serve the stew topped with strips of bread or croutons.



More recipes for types of tuna:





Saturday, April 13, 2019

BACALAO IN DISGUISE

“Te conozco, bacalao, aunque vengas disfrazao,” is an old Spanish saying, meaning “I know you, codfish, even if you come in disguise.” It’s roughly the same as “pull the wool over your eyes,” deceive someone to prevent them from discovering something. Considering the thousand-and-one ways of preparing salt cod during the Lenten period, it’s also a sly way of saying, “you can’t fool me, no matter how you doll it up!”


But, here’s a recipe for salt cod that might fool anyone! It’s a garlicky, creamy dip or schmear that might remind you of hummus or Greek skordalia or taromosalata. This one, from the Axarquía region east of Málaga, is somewhat like Catalan brandada and atascaburras or ajoarriero from La Mancha. But, it has, besides salt cod and garlic, a big dose of pimentón (paprika) that gives the mixture a ruddy hue. 

Ajobacalao is a dip or spread made with salt cod blended into a creamy mixture of garlic, bread and olive oil. Pimentón (paprika) gives it a reddish color.



Spread the ajobacalao on crusty bread for a satisfying snack.

A tasty spread for canapés. In Málaga, local green olives are typical, but the black ones make nice contrast.

Use breadsticks as dippers.

The resulting thick spread can be slathered on bread or toasts for a satisfying snack, spread on crisp crackers as a canapé or dipped with breadsticks. Serve it as a luncheon entrée with artichokes, quartered hard-boiled egg and lettuce. 

Salt cod is to fresh fish as cured ham is to fresh pork. The process of salting and curing changes both flavor and texture. Salt cod has to be soaked in several changes of water before being incorporated in any recipe. It needs very little cooking on gentle heat. 

In Spain, it’s easy to find bacalao in many different cuts. I used a packet of bacalao desmigado, scraps of cod with no skin or bones. The small pieces needed only 12 hours soaking. If you have a thick, loin cut of bacalao, it may need as long as 48 hours to soften and lose excess salt. 

And, if you’re really, truly not into bacalao, disguised or otherwise, try making this spread with canned, water-pack tuna, well-drained. You can tell folks it´s bacalao---

Salt Cod-Garlic Spread
Ajobacalao

In bygone times, this traditional dish was made in a lebrillo, a large clay bowl, or a wooden mortar, the ingredients mashed together with a pestle. Nowadays, a food processor makes quick work of it. It's important to mix very well to emulsify the oil and bread.

Use extra virgin olive oil. In the Málaga area where this is a popular dish during Lent (Cuaresma) the local oil is made from the Verdial variety of olive. The pimentón is normal, sweet paprika, not smoked. Use additional hot pimentón or cayenne to taste.


Bacalao desmigado.
6-8 ounces dry salt cod
1-2 cloves garlic
8 ounces day-old bread (4-5 slices)
2 teaspoons pimentón (paprika)
Pinch of hot pimentón or cayenne
Cod cooking liquid
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice
Salt, if necessary
Bread, toast, breadsticks or crackers to serve

Wash the pieces of cod and place them in a bowl. Cover with cold water. Refrigerate, covered, 12 hours, changing the water twice. 

Drain and rinse the pieces of cod. Place them in a pan and cover with water. Bring the water to a simmer (bubbling gently) and cook 1 minute. Drain, saving the cod cooking liquid. When the cod is cool, flake it with the fingers, discarding any skin or bones. Reserve cod and liquid.

Ingredients for ajobacalao--day-old bread, extra virgin olive oil, pimentón, garlic, cod that has been de-salted, cooked and flaked and lemon juice.

Finely chop the garlic in a food processor.

Remove crusts from the bread. Break it up and add to the processor with the garlic. Add the two kinds of pimentón. Grind the bread into fine crumbs. Add ½ cup of the reserved cod cooking liquid and process until it is absorbed by the bread. With the processor running, slowly add the oil. Process until the oil is completely absorbed and mixture is very smooth. Add the lemon juice and 2 or 3 tablespoons more of the reserved liquid to make a smooth, thick cream. 

Add the flaked cod and process a few seconds more to combine well. The cod does not have to be completely pureed. Taste and add salt if necessary.  

Cover and refrigerate the cod until serving time or up to 3 days. Serve with bread, toasts, breadsticks or crackers.



Feliz Semana Santa.


Recipes for similar salt cod spreads:

Saturday, January 16, 2016

MOJAMA—HAM OF THE SEA

My friends sure know what pleases me—gourmet gifts. I’ve recently enjoyed a prize-winning goat cheese from El Bosque (Cádiz province), packets of the best acorn-finished ibérico ham from Jábugo (Huelva province), morcilla sausage from Burgos (northern Spain) and mojama, superb dried tuna from Barbate, on the Atlantic coast of Cádiz (southern Spain). (Thanks, Julianne, Nancy, Charlotte.)


Mojama is air-dried tuna. Serve it with extra virgin olive oil, coarsely ground black pepper and grated lemon zest.
Mojama, sometimes called the “ham of the sea,” is an unusual product, not so widely known, although it has been produced on the Atlantic and Mediterranean coasts for millennia. The Phoenicians, who founded the city of Gadir—Cádiz—around the year 1100 BC, exploited the copper and silver mines of western Andalusia and took over trading routes from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. Salted fish, made from abundant  tuna that migrated through the Straits of Gibraltar,  was a product that could be kept on long sea voyages and traded at far-away markets.

Mojama is made from thick slabs of tuna—bluefin, albacore, yellowfin—that are packed in sea salt for a day or two, then washed and hung to air-dry. The process, indeed, is similar to that for producing serrano and ibérico hams. The salting draws the moisture out of the flesh. As it dries, the flesh becomes firm, compacted. The flavor intensifies.


Lovely gift--12-ounce package of mojama from Barbate.

The best quality mojama is cut from the lomo, side of the tuna, closest to the center spine. It is veined with fat which keeps the flesh fairly soft and pliable.  Outside cuts taken from near the skin don’t have this streaking and become stiffer in the drying process. I have had mojama that was like cardboard or tough jerky. 

The taste of mojama? Salty, like good ham, not like anchovies. It has marine overtones, a subtle iodine, but is not “fishy.” It’s a rich, umami taste. Because it’s a concentrated flavor, a little mojama goes a long way.

Slice mojama thinly--about the width of a knife blade (1/16th inch). Marinate in extra virgin olive oil for 30 minutes before serving.

Good quality mojama is thinly sliced, moistened with extra virgin olive oil and served with bread. It can also be cut in dice or, if very firm, grated, and used as a flavor garnish. Unlike another dried fish, bacalao, salt cod, mojama is not soaked before using. It is never cooked.

In addition to the simple, classic presentation, I’ve discovered that mojama can be used in dishes in place of anchovies or canned tuna. Here are some suggestions. Fino Sherry or manzanilla is the best wine with mojama, in my opinion.

Breakfast or apéritif?  Here sliced mojama tops toasted bread spread with grated tomato and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil.

Mojama with Andalusian tapas--bottom, salad with oranges, onions and olives; left, salmorejo, a thick gazpacho cream; top, stuffed eggs.

Stuffed eggs with mojama.


To make the stuffed eggs: Hard-cook eggs. Separate the yolks and mash them with a spoonful of Dijon mustard, lemon juice, chopped red pepper, chopped mojama and a little mayonnaise to make a smooth mixture. Fill the whites and top them with strips of mojama.







This Málaga salad is usually made with salt cod. Layer sliced oranges, onions and sliced mojama on a serving plate. Dress with extra virgin olive oil, red pepper flakes and black olives.









Pasta with mojama, garlic, chile and sun-dried tomatoes.

Pasta with Mojama and Sun-Dried Tomatoes

Mojama tuna replaces anchovies in this version of  pasta alla puttanesca.

 Serves 2 or 3.

1 ounce sun-dried tomatoes, slivered (¼ cup)
Hot water
8 ounces linguine, spaghetti or fettuccine
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, sliced crosswise
Hot pepper flakes or sliced chile
1 heaping tablespoon capers
2 ounces thinly sliced mojama, cut into pieces
¼ cup chopped parsley
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Lemon zest


Place slivered tomatoes in a small bowl and cover with hot water. Let stand 10 minutes. Drain.

Cook pasta in boiling salted water until al dente.

Heat oil in a skillet. Add sliced garlic to cold oil. When garlic begins to color, add pepper flakes and sun-dried tomatoes. Cook 4 minutes. Add the capers.

Drain the pasta, reserving ¼ cup of the cooking liquid. Swirl the liquid into the skillet. Add the cut-up mojama and the parsley. Add the drained pasta to the skillet and toss with the oil. Season with salt and pepper. (Salt may not be needed.) Serve the pasta into heated bowls and grate a little lemon zest over each serving.








Saturday, August 8, 2015

TWO WAYS WITH TUNA

Summertime is tuna time. Both the Atlantic bluefin tuna, atún rojo, (Thunnus thynnus) and the albacore tuna, called in Spanish bonito del norte or atún blanco, (Thunnus alalunga) are fished off Spanish coasts. The bluefin are captured as they head for the Mediterranean (see more about the almadraba tuna fishing here ) while the albacore are caught on the northern Cantabrian coast and Bay of Biscay.


A great price for bonito del norte--albacore tuna.
It was albacore, or bonito del norte, that I found at a local market at a really good price for either the whole fish (big, but not as big as bluefin) or a thick steak.  I’ve been buying canned bonito del norte instead of tuna for a long time, as the albacore, with catch quotas in place, is less threatened than the bluefin. But I had never cooked it fresh before.


Albacore is "white tuna."


Albacore, which can legally be called “white tuna,” really is much lighter-fleshed than the deep red tuna. Less fatty, it can be dry if overcooked. I tried it two ways—quickly grilled on a plancha and cooked in a traditional Basque stew.
Bluefin tuna has red flesh.












Grilled Albacore Tuna with Garlic-Crumb Topping
Bonito del Norte a la Plancha con Migas

Grilled tuna has a crispy topping of garlicky breadcrumbs.
 The bonito steaks can be grilled on a plancha, over coals (a la parilla) or baked in the oven. If baking the fish, mix the crumb topping ingredients and spread them on top of the fish without first sautéing them.

4 (6-ounce) albacore steaks, about 1-inch thick
Salt and pepper
5 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, chopped
Thyme
1 small red chile, minced
½ teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 cup fresh bread crumbs
1/3 cup chopped parsley
Coarse salt


Sprinkle the fish steaks with salt and pepper and allow to stand at room temperature for 30 minutes. Brush them with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil.

Heat 3 tablespoons oil in a small skillet. Add the garlic, thyme and chile. Sauté until the garlic begins to turn golden. Add the lemon zest and bread crumbs. Toss the crumbs in the oil until they are golden and crisped. Remove from heat and stir in the parsley.

Ridged grill pan marks the steaks.
Heat a ridged grill pan on high heat. Brush the grill with remaining oil and sprinkle it with coarse salt. Place the bonito steaks on the grill. Cook 2 minutes and turn the steaks a quarter turn (in order to get cross-hatch grill marks). Grill 2 minutes longer. Flip the steaks and cook the reverse side in the same manner.

Remove to a platter and spread the garlic-crumbs on top of the steaks.





Basque Albacore Tuna and Potato Stew
Marmitako
  

Chunks of white tuna simmer in a flavorful sauce with potatoes.

Marmitako—from the word marmite, a cooking pot—was traditionally made aboard Basque fishing trawlers. Originally, it was a stew of bonito boiled with bread and a chunk of salt pork. Once it became part of home cooking, potatoes, peppers and olive oil became standard ingredients.

This recipe is  based on one in Cocina Vasca en Bizkaia, by Jesús Llona Larrauri, Garbiñe Badiola and the Escuela Superior Hostelería Artxanda. It substitutes roasted red bell pepper for the usual pimiento choricero, a dry red pepper that has to be soaked and scraped.  Typically, the potatoes are not cut with a knife, but broken into uneven pieces. Insert knife tip into the potato, twist it to break off a chunk. The broken surfaces release starch that helps to thicken the stew.

A frugal home cook would use the bones and trimmings of the bonito to make a simple fish stock. (Cook the trimmings in 4 cups of water with salt and a slice of onion.) Use any fish stock or, simply, water.

Marmitako--a Basque dish of white tuna, potatoes and peppers.



1 ½ pounds bonito
Salt and pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 ounce chopped bacon (optional)
1 cup chopped green pepper
1 cup chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 cup peeled and chopped tomatoes
¼ cup white wine
1 bay leaf
2 pounds potatoes, cut up
1 roasted and peeled red bell pepper, pureed
Pinch of hot pimentón (optional)
2 ½- 3 cups fish stock or water
Chopped parsley to serve


Remove all skin and bones from the bonito. Cut the fish into 1 ½-inch chunks. Sprinkle them with salt and pepper and set aside, refrigerated.

Heat the oil in a lidded cazuela or skillet with the bacon, if using. Add the green pepper, onion and garlic and sauté gently 5 minutes. Turn up the heat and add the tomatoes. Fry them until they begin to thicken and stick on the pan bottom. Add the wine and let it cook off.

Add the potatoes, 1 teaspoon salt and the bay leaf. Put the pepper pulp and hot pimentón, if using, on top of the potatoes and pour over enough stock or water to nearly cover the potatoes.  Bring to a boil, cover and turn down the heat so the liquid just simmers. Cook until potatoes are tender, about 30 minutes.

Add the chunks of bonito. Cook until fish is just cooked, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and allow the stew to set for 10 minutes. Serve sprinkled with chopped parsley.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

THE ALMADRABA TUNA SEASON BEGINS

I’ve just come back from a trip to the Atlantic coast, beyond the Straits of Gibraltar, to the coastal towns of Tarifa, Zahara de los Atunes, Barbate, Conil de la Frontera and, inland, Vejer de la Frontera, where the almadraba, or tuna fishing season, has just begun. 

The almadraba in Spain is a very ancient way of fishing tuna. The Phoenicians, who colonized southern Spain more than 3000 years ago, devised a system of capturing the tuna as they migrated from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.

Roman ruins at Baelo Claudio, an early fish processing factory.
The Romans, too, fished their way along this coast. Situated right on the wind-swept beach of Bolonia, near Tarifa in the Straits of Gibraltar—the southernmost tip of Europe—are the ruins of Baelo Claudio, a fairly substantial town that thrived from the 2nd century BC until 2nd century AD.

Temples, market, forum, amphitheater make up excavated ruins. Beside the sea, are pits where tuna and fish entrails were brined, fermented and seasoned, producing garum, the salsa of the ancients. Packed in amphorae, this gourmet product was shipped back to Rome.

The almadraba nets, forming long chambers like an interconnected series of corrals, are anchored to the bottom fairly close to the coast. Tuna swimming through on their spring migration to spawn in the Mediterranean are trapped in the nets. Once the huge fish are trapped in the final chamber, fishermen in boats pull the net into a tightening circle. The men raise the net, gaffe the tuna and haul them on board.

The nets allow smaller fish to escape. None weighing under 70 kilos (154 pounds) are captured, with most of the catch weighing in between 180 and 200 kilos (400-440 pounds). The average age of the fish is 14 years, meaning they have completed several reproductive cycles. (I got this up-to-date information from a new magazine called Oro Rojo, La revista del Atún.)

Since 2007, the almadraba catch is controlled and subject to strict quotas imposed by ICCAT (International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas). Due to indiscriminate overfishing, the Atlantic bluefin tuna (in Spanish known as atún rojo or “red tuna”) is in danger of extinction. Yet the local fishing industry claims that almadraba fishing is sustainable and feels it is being unfairly restricted for the sins committed by rapacious high-tech “factory” fishing fleets. It is estimated that only 0.01 percent of the tuna that migrate through the Straits are captured in the coastal almadraba.

As much as 80 percent of the almadraba catch is bought up by Japanese entrepreneurs and shipped, frozen, to Tokyo. What’s left goes to local markets, restaurants, tapa bars and canneries.

Different cuts of tuna at Barbate market.

In the mercado de abastos, town market, of Barbate, the home port of the almadraba boats, I found several vendors specializing in fresh tuna, showing all the many cuts as well as hearts, parts and pouches of tuna roe (eggs). Ventresca, the fatty tuna belly, looked gorgeous.



Tuna belly with thick rim of fat.




Loin and other cuts of fresh tuna.

At a nearby shop displaying dozens of tuna products in cans and jars, I bought a jar of tuna preserved in Ibérico pork lard. Something new and unusual to try. Maybe heaped on hot toast? Ventresca canned in olive oil will make a marvelous niçoise salad. Mojama, salted, air-dried tuna, thinly sliced and dressed with olive oil, will make a lovely aperitif with dry Sherry.

Carpaccio of fresh tuna (thinly sliced raw tuna).
While on a tapas crawl in the nearby town of Vejer, I sampled both traditional and vanguardista dishes with tuna. Very enjoyable was the carpaccio of fresh tuna at Casa Varo http://www.casavaro.com/index.html   Fresh tuna is flash-frozen (the method is Japanese), so there’s no risk of ingesting parasites in raw fish.



Grilled tuna in a summer salad.




Tuna with capers.


Back in my own kitchen, I am grilling a thick slab of tuna “loin.” The leftovers make fabulous summer salads.

There are tuna tasting festivals in Conil, Zahara de los Atunes and Barbate from now until June 9.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

SOMETHING'S FISHY

Bonito, a great fish.

I think I’ve finally got all my ducks in a row. Or, fish, actually.

Last month when I was in Sevilla for a few days, I encountered tapas of a fish called melva. I found melva in the fish market there too, but I’ve never seen it in my local market. Melva somewhat resembles bonito, a fresh fish that I buy frequently. But, is that the same as bonito del norte, the canned fish that I buy regularly for “tuna salad”?

I pulled out my fishy reference books—Alan Davidson’s The Tio Pepe Guide to the Seafood of Spain and Portugal (Santana Books); Seafood, A Connoisseur’s Guide and Cookbook, by Alan Davidson with sensational watercolors of fish by Charlotte Knox (Mitchell Beazley), and Manual del Pescado by José Carlos Capel (R&B Ediciones).  The Alan Davidson books are really helpful because they give fish names in several languages, including regional variations in nomenclature.

I also consulted http://www.fishbase.org, an amazing on-line data-base of fish worldwide and their names—and variations—in many languages. (That was where I found out that “rosada,” a widely marketed fish in Spain, is the “pink cusk-eel” and comes from the south Atlantic. When a market fish vendor tries to tell me it’s “fresh,” I know better, as it is always frozen, then thawed.)

Here’s the ducky list.

Melva is Auxis rochei, the frigate mackerel (although not actually a mackerel). According to Davidson, it is abundant in the Bay of Cádiz—which explains why it’s so ubiquitous in Sevilla.

Bonito is Sarda sarda (note—not tuna), known in English as bonito or Atlantic bonito. In Japan, bonito is an important ingredient in the cuisine. In Spain, this is an excellent blue fish, very meaty, fairly economical.

Bonito del norte is Thunnus alalunga, albacore tuna or long-finned tuna. In Spain, it’s known as atún blanco, white tuna (to differentiate it from “red tuna,” blue-finned tuna). In summer, albacore is fished off the northern Cantabrian coast. Much of it goes to the canning industry, but, fresh, it is used in the wonderful Basque dish, marmitako, tuna with potatoes.

As I’ve said before: Love the fish you’re with! I’ve got me a pretty bonito (no, I did not find out why bonito—which means “pretty”—is called bonito). Note the dark longitudinal stripes.

While flipping through the pages of Capel’s fish manual, I came across a fine recipe for bonito, calling for olives. As you may remember from last week, I’m on an olive roll, so this suited me just fine.

Bonito and its “blue” relatives, such as mackerel, sardines and tuna, are often prepared in escabeche, a vinegar marinade for cooked fish. This recipe is reversed—more like an adobo, as it is marinated—but only briefly—before cooking. The marinade is reduced to make the sauce.

(This recipe is adapted from one published in Manual del Pescado, by José Carlos Capel and attributed to La Cocina Andaluza by Miguel Salcedo Hierro).

Fillets of bonito with olive sauce.

Bonito Fresco con Aceitunas
Marinated Bonito with Olives


Serves 4 as a starter or 2 as a main dish.

1 whole bonito, about 2 pounds
½ teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ cup white wine
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
2 cloves garlic, slivered
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
Sprigs of thyme
Fennel flowers (optional)
½ cup water
1 cup pitted Manzanilla olives, sliced
Flour, for dredging
Olive oil, for frying


Cut off and discard head and guts. Cut the flesh into four fillets, leaving the skin on. (Besides the center spine, the bonito has a row of bones running down the middle of each half.)

Fish fillets in marinade.
 Place the fillets in a single layer in a non-reactive bowl (glass or earthenware). Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add the oil, wine, vinegar, garlic, bay leaf, parsley, thyme and fennel, if using. Cover and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours.

Remove the fillets from the marinade. Place the marinade in a small saucepan with the water. Bring to a boil, then simmer until reduced by half, about 10 minutes. Strain the liquid and discard the garlic and herbs. Return the liquid to the pan and add the olives. Simmer gently.

Dredge the bonito fillets in flour and fry in hot oil until golden on both sides. Serve hot or cold with the olive sauce.

Crispy on the outside, moist fish on the inside. Olives are a piquant sauce.




Saturday, September 1, 2012

FINS IN TINS



Canned seafood makes for easy meals.

It may be September, but in southern Spain this is still full summer. I want quick and easy meals, minimal cooking. So I’m taking my own advice (see a previous blog posting, Too Hot to Cook), and using canned seafood as the starting point for easy meals. With such a great variety, I’ve got lots of options.

There’s way more than canned tuna. Here’s what I’ve got in my pantry: bonito (white tuna or albacore), melva (frigate mackerel), caballa (mackerel), sardines and sardinillas (small sardines), anchovies, mussels, clams, cockles, scallops, octopus, squid.

Spain has long been a market leader in fish conserves.  Way back in Roman days, Spanish garum, a powerfully smelling, fermented fish paste flavored with herbs and packed in brine, was much appreciated in Rome.  Today tuna--albacore, skipjack and yellowfin-- represent more than 55 percent of Spain's canned fish production.  Sardines are second, followed by mussels, mackerel and anchovies.

Mackerel fillets in escabeche.
Tuna and bonito come packed in vegetable oil or olive oil; in escabeche, a vinegared marinade; with lemon; al natural, in brine without added oil, and in ensalada, which includes bits of pickles, carrots and onions.  Fish of similar family are melva, frigate mackerel (one brand markets it as melva de almadraba, captured in anchored nets), and caballa, mackerel.

Escabeche fish, with a piquant blend of oil, vinegar and pimentón (paprika) makes a ready-made dressing.  All that's needed is a good squeeze of lemon.

Canned fish in escabeche--readymade dressing.
Canned tuna, bonito, melva and mackeral can be used more or less interchangeably. All make fine salads and sandwich fillings. Best quality brands are those packed in extra virgin olive oil. But, if I’m making an ordinary tuna-salad-sandwich for the kids, I use cheaper brands, drain off the vegetable oil and stir in some olive oil. For something a little different in tuna sandwich, I like the capote served in tapa bars—tuna with mayonnaise and capers topped with strips of roasted red and green peppers on mini buns.

Canned sardines, whose bones are soft enough to chew, are an exceptionally rich source of calcium. The finest sardines are those packed in olive oil, but they also come in tomato sauce, in escabeche and picante, seasoned with chile.  Sardines make a great topping for pizza. I make a sardine “pâté” to spread on toasts. Combine drained sardines, chopped onion, Dijon mustard, lemon juice, dry Sherry, extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper in a mini food processor. Serve on toasts garnished with sliced hard-boiled eggs and thinly sliced peeled cucumber.

I think of anchovies (in a tin, they’re called anchoas; they’re boquerones if they're fresh ones) as a sort of spice.  A dash of them adds pizazz to many different foods.  Chop some into boiled potatoes or mash with cream cheese to make a topping for baked potatoes.  Stir into butter with lemon and capers and pour over veal cutlets.

Squid in ink sauce, great for pasta.

Squid (calamares, pota or chipirones), cuttlefish (jibia, chopitos) and octopus (pulpo) all make fine additions to pasta sauces and, in a pinch, can be substituted for fresh squid in paella or seafood stews. Tinned ones are very tender. Today I’m using squid canned in ink sauce to make a topping for linguine. The meal is ready in less than 30 minutes! (See the recipe below.)



Linguine with squid in ink sauce, quick and easy.
Canned mussels (mejillones) in escabeche are so good that I pack them to take as gifts to friends in the US. (My mother was crazy for them.) They can be enjoyed straight from the can or turned into more complex presentations.  They’re great in a salad of wilted greens with fried croutons, crispy garlic and chopped egg.

Clams (almejas), cockles (berberechos), razor-shells (navajas), wedge-shells (machas), sea-urchins (erizos) and crab (cangrejo) are other shellfish in cans to be found in Spanish shops.

Imported Spanish canned tuna, sardines and shellfish can be found in many big supermarkets in the US or from La Tienda, The Spanish Table, or De España.


Linguine With Squid Sauce

Serves 3 or 4.

4 (80-gram) cans squid in ink (en su tinta)
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 slices bacon, chopped
½  onion, chopped                                       
2   cloves garlic, chopped
1   red or green bell pepper, chopped
Pinch of fennel seeds
1/3 cup white wine
Red pepper flakes
½ pound linguine or spaghetti
Chopped parsley to garnish.


Heat the oil in a pan and sauté the bacon, onion, garlic and bell pepper for 5 minutes. Add the fennel seeds, wine and red pepper flakes and simmer the sauce for 5 minutes.  Add the contents of the cans, cutting up the pieces if necessary, and simmer another 3 minutes. Add a little water if sauce is too thick.

 Meanwhile, cook the linguine or spaghetti in ample boiling, salted water.  Drain the pasta. Serve it topped with a spoonful of the squid sauce and a sprinkling of chopped parsley.