Fish Stew

In my younger years, my impoverished family, which included sixteen siblings and me, often dined on my mother’s famous earthworm and dandelion sashimi.  Then the family moved to Everglade Acres, a new swamp development, and my father taught the older boys how to fish, using us younger boys as very quick and unwilling bait.

I developed a real taste for fish in the muddy, bite or be bitten world we fished in.  I also remembered wetting my pants each time I heard the words, “Wanna go fishin’?”  

Shortly afterwards, my seven year old cousin, Gorina, and I hatched a plan to get married and move closer to the coast.  The Everglades mayor, who was also the chief of police, justice of the peace, taxidermist, and mortician, married us in a very private ceremony, under cover of darkness, which consisted of few words:  Do you?  Yep. Well ok then. And free taxidermy for the first one who dies.

Living on the coast of Costa Rica, after fleeing from my father’s angry pack of bloodhounds, Gorina learned to make a delicious Fish Stew, which is the recipe I offer you today.

Fish Stew:  nothing fishy about it

Extra Virgin Olive Oil  (that label always puzzles me for obvious reasons.)

1 large, sweet onion, diced

2 large celery stalks, split and sliced cross grain

salt and pepper

5 large cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped

1-2 tablespoons herbes de Provence, or herbs of your choice

pinch of red pepper flakes

2 tablespoons capers

1 cup dry white wine (I used Goya brand)

3 large, ripe tomatoes, chopped

1 tablespoon tomato paste (intensifies the tomato flavor)

2 eight-ounce bottles of clam juice (check the label for pure clam juice)

3 cups vegetable broth

1 cup crab meat

¾  pound wild caught salmon

½ pound (or more) any solid fleshed white fish

½ pound shrimp, peeled

¼ cup raisins (optional for me, or mandatory for certain people)

2 packed cups chopped cilantro (I use both leaves and stems)

Puttin’ It Together

Slosh some olive oil in a 5 quart Dutch oven and turn the heat to medium.  Add the celery, onions, garlic, a dash of salt and pepper and cook, stirring regularly until the onion is wilted.  Add herbes de Provence, red pepper flakes and cook until the wonderful fragrance tickles your nostrils and weakens your resolve to save the rest of the bottle of wine for dinner.

Add the white wine and stir, then add the clam juice, vegetable broth, and capers. Plus raisins, if you must.

Cook for 15-20 minutes to allow flavors to blend and passion to build.  

Good time to pour that third glass of wine.

Add the fish, crab meat, and shrimp.  Bring to a simmer and cook for 5 minutes.  Remove the pot from the heat, cover and let it stand another 5-10 minutes so the fish will finish cooking.

Stir in the chopped cilantro and crack open that second bottle of wine.

Serve with crusty bread.

Pretend you just came in from the swamp and are really hungry….on second thought, you won’t have to pretend about the hunger part.

Blossom Restaurant, in Charleston South Carolina

Charleston Marina

Charleston has grown into one of the best gastronomic destinations on the east coast.  I know there are doubters, but I’m used to it.  Hey, I’m married!

People from Baltimore will bring up blue crabs.  New Yorkers will scream….New Yorkers seem to favor screaming…Hey, buddy, we got every-ting heah.  Miami citizens like to tell the world about Cuban cuisine.

Yes, I’m going to tell you a great place to eat, but first there’s a necessary digression.  You need to know the city you’re dealing with.  Otherwise you’re just going to crawl away imagining four walls with food on the table.  See part of the master plan is to erase ignorance and I’m starting with you!

 

Live Oaks at The Battery, White Point Garden

Gotta admit, there are some lackings in Charleston choices.  Mexican comes to mind.  But, what Charleston does offer that’s so much more attractive than a sandy day at the beach, is sumptuous atmosphere to go along with the freshest of seafood. Stroll around this stately old town for a bit and you’ll get in the spirit.  See the craggy, gray bearded oaks, huge black cannon and grand, stately homes along The Battery. 

Confederate Rodman Cannon

Rainbow Row of Porgy and Bess fame is nearby.  Look out across the rippling confluence of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers, that come together to form the Atlantic Ocean.  Yep, that’s Fort Sumter in the distance, awash in the ocean tides and tide of history.

Rainbow Row

You catching the drift? When you eat in Charleston you’re flooded by atmosphere you’ll find nowhere else.  The salt air.  The cobblestone streets.  The horse drawn carriages. The old vegetable market and the ladies weaving sweetgrass baskets.

These cobblestones date from the days of sailing ships and were used for ballast 

So when my close friend said we would meet with some of his rowdy companions for lunch at Blossom, my mouth watered.  Blossom is a fairly new establishment near the marketplace.  In Charleston, new means the Civil War (War of Northern Aggression), or the Revolutionary War do not need to be mentioned as you ease from the heat into air conditioned comfort.

Bright.  Sunny as outside, but cooler.  The whitewashed, exposed beam interior gives you a sense of having lunch in an elegant flower garden.  Ditto the white cloth napkins, sparkling silverware and glistening white china.  Yes, I am a secret snob.  Some would say not so secret. Maybe it’s more accurate to say I find solace in colors and design and attention to detail.

“Ok!” you impatient bastards are screaming, “What about the flapping food?”

  

The flapping food is extraordinarily delicious, with a wonderful presentation and service that makes lunch a celebration of hunger!  Seafood is the main attraction and the freshness is mouthwatering.  Yes, for non-seafooder swine there are other choices.  Just want to sip wine and nosh a salad?  You’ve come to the right place.  The Riesling St Urbans-hof, direct from the Mosel River was fruitily fantastic.  Of course, both my faithful readers already know I favor Mosel wines for breakfast, lunch, dinner, as well as for brushing my teeth.

I ordered some fried clams and calamari, just to warm up my taste buds and followed that with a cup of creamy She Crab Soup.  Polished those off just as my Crab Louie Salad arrived. A companion went with Caeser Salad and blacked chicken, while another one fussed over a juicy cheeseburger and the fourth got a wedge of fresh lettuce with a creamy dressing.  But see, these folks live here and need a break from indescribably luscious seafood once in awhile. I do not need that break. I eschew that break.  I SAY….no I don’t say that.  I’m too polite.

She Crab Soup, a Charleston Speciality

Crab Louie Salad

Blackened Chicken Breast on Caesar Salad

A wedge of iceburg

As our waiter brought the platters, conversation stopped. Yes, I wanted another glass of wine and I got it.  No need to wander through descriptions of every bite. The dishes were….Just check  out the photos!  Thousands of mouthwatering words written all over them!

Conversation?  Didn’t start up again until our very efficient waiter removed the plates and brought the bills.

Will I go back to Blossom?  Stupid question.  Make that INSANE question.  I will go back and I will bring along my ravenous appetite.  Companions are optional.  More Riesling is not.

Sommertime South Part II

In Summertime South Part I, I spoke of the joys of sitting by a lazy lake, plinking at cans with a pellet gun, blasting the neighborhood with fireworks, walking on the dock, and scattering tidbits for the wildlife that suddenly weren’t so wild when they sensed food.  Ducks. Swans. Fish. Turtles.

But, what if you don’t live on a lake, or have a new friend who lives on a lake, or can’t find a new friend because the last time you mentioned a new friend the conversation lapsed into a heartless discussion of division of property and alimony.

Never fear…well, almost never.  In the Deep South, everybody knows somebody with a backyard swimming pool and a way to boil water.

Step One:  Drift out by the pool, with a bottle/glass/pitcher of something cold to offset the sunshine and renew your perspective on life.

This is the SOUTH.  Almost forgot to mention you need a dog.

Step Two:  Boil enough water to cover a mess of potatoes, corn, sausage, shrimp, and crab legs.  Add seasoning to the water, along with a sliced lemon or two.

You understand what’s happening here, right?  You’re well on your way to a savory, Low Country Boil.  It has other names.  Frogmore Stew.  Shrimp Boil.  Have to wonder where the name Frogmore Stew came from.  Wonder no longer.  Richard Gay, owner of the Gay Fish Company called his dish Frogmore after a small community on St Helena Island, near Beaufort, South Carolina.  That was circa 1948.

The good news is, there ain’t a lot of rules for Low Country Boil.  Add crawfish if you want, or whole blue crabs, or stone crab claws, or oysters.

But, I am partial to Alaskan King Crab legs.

Only one mistake you can make:  Adding the seafood too soon.  Crab and shrimp and crawfish only need moments in rapidly boiling water.  Overcook them and they get tough.  Overcook them even more and you lose your pool privileges and somebody else gets to drink your beer.

So here we go on a journey to good eatin’, straight from the coastline of the Deep South:

Smart to use a pot with a lift-out insert.  Helps to pull the goodies out.  But, if not, no worries.  Use a scoop.

The Process

Boil the water, with lemons and herbs (perhaps Old Bay Seasoning and a couple of packets of Shrimp and Crab Boil).  How much?  Suit your taste buds.

Drop in small or chunked potatoes and cook for 20 minutes or so, then add chunks of quartered onions, smoked sausage and ears of corn.  How much?  How many you cookin’ for?

When the corn is tender (about ten minutes more), add the shrimp and crab legs.  Cook for only three to five minutes.  When the shrimp turns pink, it’s cooked.

Scoop out the goodies from the broth and spread them on a big platter, or on newspaper.  Dig in.  Utensils?  You kiddin’ me?   Pass the paper towels…

Deviled Crab -devilishly simple

My mother used to make deviled crab to rave reviews.  This recipe follows hers as closely as my sagging memory allows.

One evening over supper a guest asked how hard deviled crab was to make.  “Oh, it’s very simple,” my mother said, nonchalantly.  “You just toss everything together and slip it in the oven.”

My father’s eyes got big.  He dropped his fork.  “Easy for you to say!  You didn’t spend two goddamned hours dicing every goddamned thing!”  Of course, my father took his dicing responsibilities as seriously as a talented machinist in a watch factory.  If he had made jigsaw puzzles, the pieces would all have been one inch square and you could have measured them with a micrometer.

As for me, as my greedy family constantly reminds me, I am not that perfect, least of all when I’m mincing hard boiled eggs.  Still, when I feed the hungry hordes, they have no problem bellying up to the trough and fighting for the last scraps. Your hordes are going to love this dish, too.

Besides the delicious mingling of flavors, another thing I like about deviled crab is the eye appeal.  Tiny bits of this and that flecked together, lighted browned on top, and served in ramekins, or scallop shells, as my mother used to do…well, they beg for the time honored delight of  rapidly moving the fork to the mouth.

Unlike what my father exclaimed, this recipe only takes about half an hour, including the slicing and dicing, and another 25 minutes baking in a 350ºF (180ºCº) oven.

To keep it simple, and to give the deviled crab first billing, I often serve it with oven-roasted vegetables, which I toss with only a few tablespoons of olive oil, salt, and pepper. The vegetables also bake at 350º, for the same 25 minutes.  Finger-sized cuts of carrots, petite green beans, slices of red bell pepper, a few broccoli flowerets, and slices of onion add color, and a rough-cut bistro texture to the plate.  Often I drizzle a bit of balsamic vinegar over the vegetables before serving.

Deviled Crab

1 lb. crab meat – I used a one-pound can of pasteurized and refrigerated mixture of claw and body meat.  Two recommendations:  Fresh crab is best.  Steer clear of the canned crab that requires no refrigeration – absolutely tasteless!

1 Cup mixture of green and white onion, diced

1 Stalk of celery, diced

½ Red bell pepper, diced (use the other half in the mixed, roasted vegetables)

3 Hardboiled eggs, minced (You can use a fork.  I used a pastry blender, the tool for cutting butter into flour)

½ Cup plain breadcrumbs  (a stale baguette and my food processor do the trick)

1 Tablespoon yellow mustard

½ Cup mayonnaise (careful with this; the idea is to moisten, not saturate)

A pinch of cayenne pepper

Salt to taste

3 Lemon wedges

Pick through the crab meat to take out any bits of shell.  Put the crab meat in a bowl and squeeze the lemon wedges over it.  Mix well. 

Add the other diced and minced ingredients and breadcrumbs to the bowl. Toss.

Add the mayonnaise, mustard, and a dash of cayenne – how big a dash depends on you!  I favor truly just a dash.  Crab is a delicate flavor.

Mix and toss well, using forks.  You want to keep the mixture light, not at all packed down.

Again, using forks to keep the mixture from packing, fill the ramekins.  This recipe will serve 4 or 5 as a main course, or 6-8 as an appetizer.

Prior to going in the oven.

Put the ramekins on a cookie tray and pop them in the pre-heated oven for 25 minutes.  The bits deviled crab sticking up should just be turning brown.  If not, leave them in the oven another five minutes, but take care not to overcook!

Fresh out of the oven

A solid supper and devilishly easy.  Serve with dry to semi-dry white sparkling wine.  I suggest two bottles.  One for the meal and one for sipping while you cook.  It makes the time go so much faster and will make you a jolly host.