When I went to the beach as a little girl, I couldn’t wait to get in the water. Couldn’t wait. We would vacation all along the coast in North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama, Florida, and Georgia. Dede always packed fishing poles, and we’d fish off the dock and catch crabs off the jetty. Now that I am older I still love the beach, but I am absolutely mesmerized by the haunting beauty of the marsh. Little in this world is more satisfying to me than “wetting a hook,” as Dede used to say—just standing on a dock enjoying nature.
The Georgia coastline, more than one hundred miles long and fringed with barrier islands, is part of the largest saltwater marsh in the world. Men and women have made their livelihoods for centuries harvesting fish and shellfish from the Low Country estuaries, where the tide flows in and the freshwater and saltwater mix. The islands are separated from the mainland by tidal marshes, some as long as six miles. From above, the coast looks like intricate lace, with the long, black curving lines of the rivers and creeks running through the green wire grass marsh.
With the Atlantic to the east and the Gulf of Mexico to the south, the seafood industry has both a large cultural and economic effect on the southeastern United States. It’s a way of life from Virginia to Texas, and more than 250,000 people are employed in the seafood industry. The impact of the 2010 catastrophic oil spill off the Louisiana coast has been enormous and unimaginable, but the best thing we can do is support the seafood of the Gulf.
However, caution is necessary. We’ve been eating out of the ocean like it’s a bottomless bucket—and it’s not. Overfishing—catching fish faster than they can reproduce—may be the single biggest threat to ocean ecosystems. There are simply too many boats chasing a dwindling number of fish. Aquaculture, or fish farming, sounds like a great solution to the ever-increasing pressures on our ocean resources. But, it’s not that simple. The ecological impact of fish farming depends on the species chosen, where the farm is located, and how they are raised. It’s important to know how and what it takes to get the food on your plate.
I was once able to go out on the Dora F out of Brunswick, Georgia, captained by Johnny Bennett with his first mate and daughter, Brande, and grandson, Jonathan. Jonathan was thirteen at the time, had been driving the boat since he was six, and was the fifth generation of Bennett shrimpers. The Bennetts generally leave in the early morning between 3:30 and 5:00 am, depending on which shrimp is in season, the moon, and the tides. The hours are long, the conditions can be breathtakingly hot, or cold and wet, and the work is very dangerous.
The day I was there, we had just docked after eight hours of hard work on the water. I had just finished interviewing the captain. In conversation, he explained that his brother had broken his leg. The packinghouse owner had lost a brother who had drowned. I related meeting a man who had lost his leg in the cables that hoist the large nets. Meanwhile, the crew was sorting the shrimp, preparing it for sale to the packinghouse.
I disembarked, and while walking on the dock adjacent to the Dora F’s sister ship, I was startled by the screeching sound of metal bending, warping, and twisting. I glanced up to see the nets swaying toward me; in fact, it seemed the entire boat was listing sideways toward the dock. Terrified and trapped between the outrigger and heavy nets, I pulled my arms over my head and dropped to the ground. A cable snapped and one of the pair of outriggers—a thirty-foot-long length of steel scaffolding—violently collapsed. I scrambled to my feet, less than three feet from where the outrigger had crashed.
That memory and fear linger with me when I am considering what to cook for dinner. Someone literally risked life and limb to fill that seafood case at your local grocery store.
But, there’s no doubt that fish and shellfish are part of a nutritionally sound diet. Seafood is high in protein, low in saturated fat, and contains heart-healthy omega-3s, which help boost immunity and reduce the risk of heart disease, stroke, cancer and other ailments. Omega-3s are especially important for pregnant and nursing women and young children.
Programs such as the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch or the Marine Stewardship Council offer information to help you choose seafood that’s good for you and good for the oceans. They recommend which seafood to buy or avoid, helping consumers and businesses become advocates for ocean-friendly seafood. Their recommendations are available online, in printed pocket guides, or even downloadable on mobile devices.
Many cooks are easily overwhelmed with questions about cooking fish and shellfish. Mainly, how can you tell when fish is cooked, but not overcooked? The last thing that any cook wants to do is to overcook fish until it’s dry. This chapter explains simple yet chef-driven techniques, such as coating with a flavorful crumb topping to protect the delicate flesh, oven poaching, and finishing fish in the oven. Once you’re familiar with some of the Basic recipes, you may want to stretch your culinary chops on some of the Brilliant variations, such as the Salt-Crusted Whole Roast Fish or Salmon fillets gently poached in olive oil. Whether you wet your own hook or visit the seafood case, these recipes fish and shellfish are sure to “catch on.”
Small, medium, and large are arbitrary designations for shrimp. Professional chefs buy shrimp according to industry designation: the count per pound. There’s some wiggle room with the corresponding terms due to heads on versus heads off. The most important thing to remember is the smaller the number per pound, the bigger the shrimp.
• 10 shrimp or less per pound = Colossal
• 11 to 15 shrimp per pound = Jumbo
• 16 to 20 shrimp per pound = Extra-large
• 21 to 25 shrimp per pound = Large
• 26 to 30 shrimp per pound = Medium
• 31 to 35 shrimp per pound = Small
Pan-Seared Georgia Trout, served the Brilliant way with Pecan Brown Butter
SERVES 4
The North Georgia mountains are laced with rivulets and cold streams filled with mountain trout. Trout is a very forgiving fish to cook and very user friendly for people who don’t like overly fishy fish, a concept that doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to me. The butter is a bit of glorious excess. Fresh trout would taste equally magnificent simply topped with toasted pecans.
¼ cup canola oil, plus more for the baking sheet
1 cup pecans, finely chopped
1 cup plain or whole-wheat fresh or panko (Japanese) breadcrumbs
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 (6- to 8-ounce) skin-on trout fillets
Lemon wedges, for garnish
Preheat the oven to 200°F. Brush a rimmed baking sheet with canola oil and place in the oven to warm.
Combine the pecans, breadcrumbs, and parsley in a shallow bowl or pie plate. Season with salt and pepper. Press the flesh side of each fillet into the pecan mixture.
Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Place 2 trout in the pan, crust side down, and cook until golden brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Turn and cook until fish is opaque in the center and just cooked through, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer the trout to the prepared baking sheet, crust side up. Place the baking sheet in the oven. Repeat the process with the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil and the remaining 2 trout fillets. Transfer to warmed serving plates and serve immediately, garnished with the lemon.
Basic panfried trout is elevated to Brilliant when dressed with Pecan Brown Butter. Wipe the skillet clean with paper towels. Add ¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter and melt over medium heat. Allow the butter to foam and turn medium brown, swirling the pan occasionally. Remove the pan from the heat, add the finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon, ¼ cup chopped pecans, and ¼ cup fresh flat-leaf parsley; season with coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper. Place the trout, crust side up, on warmed serving plates. Drizzle with the pecan butter. Serve immediately.
SERVES 4
My grandparents drove their motor home all the way from Georgia to Alaska three or four times. Dede loved Alaska, mostly because he liked salmon fishing. They would fish and then visit a local canning plant, returning with cases and cases of salmon preserved in mason jars. The processing renders the salmon bones soft. My sister and I would fight over what we referred to as the “buttons,” which I now know to be the softened vertebrae.
Poaching is a classic French technique and the result, if executed properly, showcases the fish.
3 cups water
2 cups dry white wine
2 to 4 sprigs tarragon, leaves coarsely chopped and stems reserved
2 bay leaves, preferably fresh
½ teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1 carrot, sliced
Coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper
4 (5-ounce) skinless salmon fillets
½ cup Dijon mustard
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the greens
4 to 6 cups mixed greens (such as Belgian endive, mâche, and Bibb lettuce)
To poach the salmon, combine the water, wine, tarragon stems (leaves reserved), bay leaves, peppercorns, and carrot. Bring to a boil over high heat, then decrease the heat to low. Simmer gently for 15 to 20 minutes to make a flavorful court-bouillon. Season with salt and pepper.
Have ready a large, heavy-duty sealable plastic bag filled with ice cubes. Make an ice bath to cool the salmon by transferring several cups (or more, if needed) of the broth to a large heatproof bowl. Place the ice pack in the bowl of broth; move the pack around until the broth is well chilled (drain the bag and add more ice to it as needed). Return the heat to high and bring the remaining mixture to a rolling boil. Add the salmon fillets. Cover and simmer for 7 minutes.
Remove from the heat and remove the salmon from the poaching liquid. Transfer to the cooled broth and allow the salmon to cool in the bouillon. Cover the fish and broth with plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for 1 to 2 hours, or until you are ready to serve.
Meanwhile, put the mustard in a small bowl. Whisk the olive oil into the mustard in a slow, steady stream. Stir in the reserved chopped tarragon leaves. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper.
When you are ready to serve, put the greens in a bowl. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Toss to combine. Arrange the greens on 4 plates. Remove the salmon from the broth and pat dry with paper towels. Top each plate of greens with a piece of salmon. Spoon the mustard sauce over the fish to coat. (In French, this is known as napper, meaning to coat evenly with sauce, coming from the nappe, or “tablecloth.”) Garnish with leaves from the remaining 2 sprigs tarragon. Serve, passing the remaining mustard sauce separately.
Poaching salmon in olive oil makes it even richer. This technique works especially well with white-fleshed fish, such as halibut or barramundi. For a real flavor infusion, use the oil from
Garlic Confit and top it off with pure olive oil. Season the salmon with coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper. In a large, deep skillet, heat 2 cups pure (not extra-virgin) olive oil over medium heat until shimmering. Add the salmon fillets, without crowding, and cook over medium heat for 3 minutes. (They don’t have to be completely submerged; just spoon the oil over them, bathing them while they cook.) Using a spatula, carefully turn the fillets and simmer until just cooked through, about 3 minutes longer. Repeat with remaining fillets, if necessary. Serve on top of greens. Brilliant.
SERVES 4
Cooking whole large fish is scary, but it doesn’t have to be the culinary equivalent of summons to the principal’s office or a call from the IRS. Both for cooking in the oven and on the grill, I often wrap the fish in foil to make it easier to flip and handle. No yummy charring, but no fish-crusted grill grates, either. Fear, like lemon for serving, is optional.
In the summer I like to serve the fish chilled. Fillet the fish and place it in a single layer on a shallow, rimmed plate. Pour the accumulated juices captured in the foil over and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until cold and the juices have set due to the natural gelatin, an hour or so or overnight. It’s refreshing and delicious.
1 tablespoon best-quality extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
2- to 3-pound whole striped bass, arctic char, or croaker, gills removed, scaled, and gutted, leaving head and tail intact
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Bouquet garni (2 bay leaves, preferably fresh, 5 sprigs thyme, 4 sprigs flat-leaf parsley, 10 black peppercorns, tied together in cheesecloth)
1 lemon, sliced, plus more for garnish
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Place a piece of aluminum foil large enough to hold the fish on a clean work surface. Brush the foil with the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. (Yes, the foil, so it will season the outside of the fish.)
Place the prepared fish at the center of the foil and season with salt and pepper. Stuff with the herbs and lemon slices. Fold the foil to seal. Place on a rimmed baking sheet. Roast in the oven for 8 to 10 minutes per inch of thickness, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of the meat registers 135°F to 140°F and the flesh is opaque, about 20 minutes. Use an offset spatula to remove the top fillet from the bones. Transfer the fillet to a warmed serving plate. Break off the tail and pull away the central bone. Lift away the bottom fillet and place on the plate. Drizzle over the olive oil and garnish with lemon. Serve immediately.
A salt crust seals in the juices, but amazingly doesn’t overwhelm the fish with a salty taste! Present the fish whole at the table, then return to the kitchen for “surgery.”
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil for easy cleanup. Combine 2 pounds kosher salt and 1 tablespoon dried herbes de Provence in a bowl. Mix until well combined. Pour over 1 cup water and mix together until the salt has the consistency of wet sand. (It’s like building sandcastles, only deliciously edible.) Spread half of salt mixture in a rectangle on the foil just larger than the fish. Place the stuffed fish on top. Pat the remaining salt mixture over the fish to cover completely. (If the tail sticks out, it’s okay.) Transfer to the oven and bake for 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let rest for 2 to 3 minutes so the salt will cool just slightly. Using the back of a chef’s knife or large spoon, rap all around the edge of the salt crust to loosen it. Remove the salt top and carefully remove the skin. Use an offset spatula to remove the top fillet from the bones. Keep a few paper towels handy to wipe away any stray salt. Transfer the fillet to a serving plate. Break off the tail and pull away the central bone. Lift away the bottom fillet, leaving the skin attached to the bottom salt crust, and place on the plate. Drizzle over the olive oil and garnish with lemon. Serve immediately.
SERVES 4
My Fish 101 classes consistently sell out and have a waiting list. People are scared to cook fish. Salmon is a great fish to start with because it’s firm, flavorful, readily available, and just oily enough not to dry out unless you really overcook it. Think of it as cooking fish with training wheels. After you’ve graduated from salmon, try this technique with a fillet, such as catfish, tilapia, trout, or barramundi—all fish farmed sustainably in a closed system above ground.
The fish is protected from the direct heat of the oven by a flavorful topping of breadcrumbs and olive oil. Once you’ve tried this simple technique, you’ll never be scared to cook fish again.
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
½ cup plain or whole-wheat fresh or panko (Japanese) breadcrumbs
¼ bunch fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
8 sprigs tarragon, chopped
4 small cloves garlic, very finely chopped
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or to taste
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 (8-ounce) catfish, tilapia, trout, or barramundi skinless fillets
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Oil a rimmed baking sheet with some of the olive oil.
Combine the breadcrumbs, parsley, tarragon, garlic, and red pepper in a small bowl. Brush each fish with olive oil, then add the remaining oil to the breadcrumb mixture. Season the breadcrumb mixture with salt and pepper and stir to combine. Dust the top side of each fillet with the breadcrumb mixture. Place the fish on the prepared baking sheet and roast until the breadcrumbs are browned and the fish is opaque, 5 to 7 minutes. Serve immediately on warmed serving plates.
This creamy sauce is a delicate mayonnaise. Don’t skip the garlic blanching process. The result is Brilliant.
Combine the peeled cloves from 1 head of garlic in a small saucepan with 1 cup cold water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then drain. Repeat the process four times, always starting with cold water. Drain well. Combine the softened garlic, 1 large egg yolk, 6 sprigs flat-leaf parsley, juice of ½ lemon, and ½ cup pure olive oil in a blender; blend until creamy. Season with coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper. Makes about ½ cup. To serve, spoon some of the garlic sauce onto warmed serving plates and top with the fish fillets.
Wild catfish can have a strong flavor because, as bottom feeders, the fish burrow in the mud of lakes and ponds. Sustainable farm-raised catfish are fed a diet of grain pellets, resulting in a clean, mild- flavored fish.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Mama and I both love fried shrimp—we can’t go to the beach without enjoying a meal of fried shrimp. It’s sad how many of those beach restaurants are serving imported shrimp. I like to put my money where my mouth is and try to patronize restaurants that are supporting the local fishing industry.
Slaves brought benne to the Carolina Sea Islands directly from Africa. Benne seeds are more widely known as sesame seeds. Modern sesame is grown mainly for oil production. During the colonial and antebellum eras, benne was grown not only for its extraordinary oil, but also for the seeds, which are very nutritious and can be used whole, ground into a paste, or milled to a flour.
4 cups peanut or canola oil, for frying
24 large white shrimp (21/25 count), peeled and deveined, tails on
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup cornstarch
1 (12-ounce) bottle beer, chilled
2 tablespoons white sesame seeds
½ cup black sesame seeds
2 tablespoons chopped or snipped fresh chives
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Tartar or cocktail sauce, for serving
Pour the oil into a heavy-bottomed saucepan, deep fryer, or Dutch oven, filling it no more than one-third full. Heat the oil over medium heat until it reaches 350°F. Meanwhile, put the shrimp on a plate lined with paper towels and pat dry with additional paper towels to eliminate all moisture. Line another plate with paper towels and set aside.
In a large bowl, mix the flour and cornstarch. Slowly whisk in the beer until a smooth, thick batter forms. Stir in the sesame seeds, chives, and parsley. Holding 4 shrimp by the tail at a time, dip them into the batter. Gently shake off the excess batter and slip the shrimp into the hot oil. Remove the shrimp when crispy and brown, about 3 minutes. Drain on the second plate lined with paper towels. While the shrimp are still hot, season with salt and pepper. Let cool slightly before serving.
This Brilliant side dish is somewhere between a salad and traditional tartar sauce. It’s an excellent accompaniment to the fried shrimp.
Remove the strings from 4 celery stalks, then thinly slice on the diagonal. Combine with ½ cup
mayonnaise; 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard; 1 tablespoon capers, rinsed and chopped; 1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon; 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley; and the finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon in a bowl. Stir to mix. Season to taste with coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cover and chill until you are ready to serve. Makes about 1 cup.
The vast majority of shrimp and a lot of fish are processed and frozen on the boat or at the farm before they ever get anywhere near your fishmonger or supermarket. This means that the “fresh” seafood you’re seeing at the fish counter may be frozen seafood that has been defrosted and put on display. Buy from a reputable market that tells the truth and ask if it has been frozen. If you have to buy frozen seafood, look for IQF, or Individually Quick Frozen. The more rapidly something is frozen, the better the texture. IQF means each piece is individually frozen before being packaged, as opposed to being frozen in a block.
SERVES 6
Leave the soup pot in the cupboard! Succulent shrimp and spicy andouille sausage team up with sweet onion, tomatoes, and okra for a delicious dish that tastes like gumbo but doesn’t take hours to cook. This dish is going to knock your socks off.
1 pound large shrimp (21/25 count), peeled and deveined
12 ounces fully cooked andouille sausage, halved lengthwise
1 pint grape tomatoes
12 ounces finger-size okra, stems trimmed
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, sliced into ¼-inch rings
1 red bell pepper, cored, seeded, and cut into strips
1 poblano or green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and cut into strips
¼ cup pure olive oil
2 teaspoons Creole or Cajun seasoning, plus more to taste
¼ cup ketchup, warmed
4 green onions, white and pale green parts only, chopped
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Hot cooked rice, for serving
Prepare a charcoal fire using about 6 pounds of charcoal and burn until the coals are completely covered with a thin coating of light gray ash, 20 to 30 minutes. Spread the coals evenly over the grill bottom, position the grill rack above the coals, and heat until medium-hot (when you can hold your hand 5 inches above the grill surface for no longer than 3 or 4 seconds). Or, for a gas grill, turn on all burners to high, close the lid, and heat until very hot, 10 to 15 minutes.
Combine the shrimp, sausage, tomatoes, okra, onion, and bell peppers in a large bowl. Add the oil and Creole seasoning, and toss to coat the ingredients. Thread the shrimp, tomatoes, okra, and pepper onto separate skewers. (The onions can go directly on the grill.) Or, use a grilling basket instead of skewers for the vegetables.
Place the vegetables on the hottest part of the grill. Arrange the sausage over slightly cooler heat and the shrimp at the edges of the grill. Cook, turning once or twice, until the shrimp is opaque, the sausage is heated through, and the vegetables are tender and slightly charred, 8 to 10 minutes (the shrimp will take less time to cook). Slice the sausage, onion, and bell peppers into bite-size pieces, then transfer them, along with the other ingredients, to a large bowl.
Toss the meat and vegetable mixture with the ketchup and green onions. Cover the mixture tightly with plastic wrap and let the vegetables steam and wilt slightly, about 5 minutes. Remove the plastic wrap from the bowl. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt, pepper, and Creole seasoning to your liking. Ladle over cooked rice in warmed serving bowls. Serve immediately.
This is just a little lagniappe to elevate our Basic “gumbo” to Brilliant.
While the gumbo is steaming and the grill is still hot, place 12 whole oysters on the hottest part of the grill. Cook until they open, about 5 minutes. Remove the oysters from the grill. Holding each with a hot pad and using an oyster knife or a clean flathead screwdriver, pry off the top shell and discard. Slide the knife between the oyster and shell to disconnect. Squeeze the juice of 1 lemon over the oysters and drizzle a dash of hot sauce on each. Season with freshly ground black pepper. To serve, ladle the “gumbo” over the rice as directed. Top each portion with 2 oysters on the half shell. Serve immediately.
SERVES 4 TO 6
New Orleans, aka N’awlins, is in mind and spirit quite separate from the rest of Louisiana. It’s deep, deep South, flavored with a heavy dose of the Caribbean. The food of New Orleans is incredibly rich. I often tease my Cajun colleagues that the only green you’ll find on your plate is the tarragon in the cream sauce. Situated on the Gulf, shrimp is a mainstay of Cajun and Creole cuisine. BBQ Shrimp may seem to be a funny name—there’s no grilling or barbecuing involved—but that’s the traditional name for this Louisiana favorite.
The biggest mistake with cooking shrimp is cooking them too long. Most people overcook them, and the shrimp bounces in your mouth like a rubber ball. Shrimp should only take two to three minutes to cook. Normally, this Big Easy classic uses dried herbs, but I prefer fresh. Try this as a first course with crusty baguette to sop up all the delicious juices.
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
½ cup pure olive oil
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
4 bay leaves, preferably fresh
4 to 6 large sprigs rosemary, leaves chopped to make 2 teaspoons and whole stems reserved
1 teaspoon chopped fresh basil
1 teaspoon chopped fresh oregano
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon paprika
Coarse salt
2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 pounds large shrimp (21/25 count), in the shell
Freshly ground black pepper
Crusty baguette, for serving
Combine the butter and oil in a heavy ovenproof saucepan over medium heat. Add the garlic, bay leaves, rosemary, basil, oregano, thyme, red pepper, paprika, salt, and lemon juice. Cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce begins to boil. Decrease the heat to low and simmer, stirring frequently, until the flavors have infused, 7 to 8 minutes.
Meanwhile, skewer the shrimp on the rosemary branches so the bodies and tails are oriented in the same direction; do not arrange tightly pressed together, or the parts touching one another will not cook. Season with salt and pepper.
Add the shrimp to the sauce. Cook the shrimp over medium heat just until they turn pink, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Transfer the shrimp to warmed serving plates. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve immediately, leaving the shrimp on the skewers, and give each diner a bowl of the herbed butter and slices of crusty baguette for dipping.
Instead of using Basic butter to cook the shrimp, prepare a Brilliant beurre monté, a suspended butter-water emulsion, and the liquid culinary equivalent of fine silk.
Bring 2 tablespoons water to a simmer in a heavy saucepan over medium heat. Decrease the heat to medium-low and gradually whisk in 1 pound unsalted butter, 1 tablespoon at a time, until the water and butter have emulsified. Keep the temperature between 180°F to 190°F. (If the mixture boils, it will separate.) Add the garlic, paprika, red pepper, lemon juice, and herbs. Add the shrimp (not skewered) and stir to combine. Cook the shrimp over medium heat until they just turn pink, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Remove the shrimp with a slotted spoon and transfer to warmed serving plates. Serve immediately. Give each diner a bowl of the herbed butter and slices of crusty baguette for dipping.
SERVES 4
Po-boys are iconic in coastal cuisine, especially in Louisiana. It’s a New Orleans classic said to have originated in the early twentieth century, the name deriving from the plea, “Give a po’ boy (poor boy) a sandwich?” According to food and travel writer and general NOLA (a friendly nickname acronym for New Orleans, LA) bon vivant and raconteur Pableaux Johnson, the original po-boys were hollowed out loaves of bread layered with fried potatoes and brown gravy. Seafood po-boys include fried shrimp, fried oysters, fried catfish, and fried soft-shell crab. See a trend?
This version is lighter and healthier than the deep-fried versions. The shrimp are breaded in egg whites and coated in panko, or Japanese breadcrumbs. Panko gives food a lighter and crunchier texture than any other breadcrumb.
1 baguette, quartered crosswise and split
2 egg whites
1 tablespoon water
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
½ cup plain or whole-wheat fresh or panko (Japanese) breadcrumbs
16 large shrimp, (21/25 count) peeled, deveined, and butterflied
¼ cup canola oil, plus more as needed
2 cups shredded romaine lettuce
2 tablespoons tartar sauce
1 teaspoon hot sauce, or to taste
1 large tomato, cored and very thinly sliced
1 lemon, quartered
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Place the bread on a rimmed baking sheet in the oven to warm and crisp while you prepare the shrimp. Line a baking sheet with paper towels and set aside.
Combine the egg whites and water in a small bowl and whisk until light and frothy. Season with salt and pepper. Put the breadcrumbs in another shallow dish. Dredge the shrimp in the egg white mixture, then dredge in the breadcrumbs.
Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add the breaded shrimp without overcrowding the skillet; cook until golden brown on each side, 2 to 3 minutes per side. (If your skillet is not large enough, you may need to cook the shrimp in two batches, and may need to add a little more oil.) Transfer to the prepared baking sheet to drain.
Combine the lettuce, tartar sauce, and hot sauce in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper.
Remove the bread from the oven. Arrange 3 tomato slices over the bottom half of each quarter. Top each with 4 shrimp, ½ cup of the lettuce mixture, and the top halves. Garnish with lemon wedges and serve immediately.
I know. This is a case of me lightening up the Basic to have a decadent Brilliant. Taste them. You’ll be convinced.
Fried capers are a flavorful explosion of vinegar and salt. Indulge with a little Brilliance.
Rinse ¼ cup salted capers in a fine-mesh sieve. Transfer to a small bowl. Add enough water to cover the capers by 2 inches, then soak for 30 minutes. Drain and rinse capers, then pat very dry between paper towels. Heat 1½ cups canola oil in a heavy saucepan over medium-high heat until it registers 375°F on a deep-frying thermometer. Fry the capers a tablespoon at a time until golden, 30 to 45 seconds per batch. Transfer with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain. Season with freshly ground black pepper. Return the oil to 375°F between batches. Makes about ½ cup. Serve scattered over the po-boys.
SERVES 4
Mussels are incredibly inexpensive and perhaps the original fast food. It takes no time whatsoever to make a savory, satisfying meal with a bag of mussels. Mussel farming is a shining example of how nutritious and delicious food can be raised in a sustainable way. France and Belgium are well-known for moules frites, or steamed mussels and French fries, served with a side of mayonnaise.
5 pounds mussels
3 tablespoons pure olive oil
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, finely chopped
1 fennel bulb, halved, cored, and thinly sliced
1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
2 large ripe tomatoes, preferably heirloom, cored, seeded, and chopped
⅛ teaspoon red pepper flakes, or to taste
½ cup dry white wine
4 sprigs thyme
1 bay leaf, preferably fresh
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup fresh basil leaves, cut in chiffonade
Coarse salt
Crusty baguette, for serving
Scrub the mussels and remove the beards. Wash them under cold running water, agitating them with your hand. Discard any mussels that do not close to the touch.
Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the onion and fennel. Cook until the onions are translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, 45 to 60 seconds. Add the tomatoes, red pepper, wine, thyme, and bay leaf. Season with pepper. (Do not season with salt, as the mussels may be salty.) Bring to a boil and simmer for 2 minutes.
Add the mussels and basil. Cover tightly and cook over high heat until all the mussels have opened, 5 to 6 minutes. Discard any that fail to open. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve immediately with a crusty baguette.
I prefer to serve mussels as in the Basic recipe, with crusty bread for sopping. But the same way that blue jeans are comfortable, sometimes it’s nice to dress up a bit, as here with Brilliant Moules Mouclade, a stew in which the mussels are removed from their shells and bathed in a decadent, creamy sauce.
Take the cooked mussels out of their shells and place in a large baking dish; set aside. To make the sauce, melt 2 tablespoons unsalted butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat until foaming. Add 3 shallots, chopped, and cook until translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir in 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour and, while it is bubbling, add 1 cup of the strained mussel broth, stirring continuously. (This is a form of a
velouté.) Add 1 cup heavy cream and strain in the remaining broth; simmer until it thickens and coats the back of a spoon, 5 to 10 minutes. Add 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley. Season with salt and freshly ground white pepper. Spoon the sauce over the mussels and put under a heated broiler until browned and bubbling, about 5 minutes. Once again, serve with crusty bread for sopping. Serves 4.
Cultivated blue mussels often come with a tag that tells you when the mussels were harvested and a “best by” date. The tag will be attached to the mesh bag, or you can ask for it at the seafood counter if you are buying them loose. An easy way to tell if they are fresh is to use your nose—they should smell like the ocean. It’s an added bonus that you don’t have to eat them as soon as you get home. Depending on the date, you usually can buy and store them in your fridge at home for a few days before eating. Take the mussels out of the mesh bag and place them in a bowl or tray. Cover with a damp cloth or paper towel to keep them moist. Do not store them in fresh water or in a sealed container. Once you’re ready to cook, just take them out of the refrigerator and discard any with closed shells; give them one last sniff to check on the freshness. Just before cooking, rinse the mussels in fresh water in a pot or colander. Seafood should smell like the sea.
SERVES 4 TO 6
Jamba-lye, crawfish pie, filé gumbo … I spent my summers in Georgia, but my entire elementary school-age experience was in Rapides Parish, Louisiana. This set me on a path to understanding and learning different foods. Since Mama liked to cook, and we were adventurous eaters, we all had a good time in the kitchen. I encourage parents to get their kids into the kitchen; when children help produce what goes on the table, they are more likely to try it. Growing up in Louisiana exposed my sister and me to all sorts of things we would have never had in Georgia, such as this jambalaya. Instead of shrimp, you can use pieces of catfish. Simple, basic, and delicious—and on the table in less than 45 minutes.
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
6 ounces andouille sausage, sliced
1 tablespoon Cajun or Creole Seasoning
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
½ poblano or green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and chopped
1 clove garlic, very finely chopped
1½ cups long-grain rice
1 (4-ounce) can tomato sauce
2½ cups seafood stock, chicken stock, or water
1 pound large shrimp (21/25 count), peeled and deveined
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 350°F. In a large ovenproof skillet, heat the oil and butter over high heat until shimmering. Add the andouille and cook until the meat starts to brown and render fat, about 3 minutes. Sprinkle over the seasoning. Add the onion, celery, and poblano pepper; cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables start to color, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, 45 to 60 seconds. Add the rice and stir to coat. Stir in the tomato sauce and seafood stock and bring to a boil.
Transfer to the oven and bake, uncovered, for 30 minutes. Add the shrimp and stir to combine. Continue baking until the rice is tender and the shrimp are opaque, about 10 minutes. Remove from the oven to a rack to cool slightly. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper. Spoon the jambalaya into warmed serving bowls. Serve immediately.
I can hear the gasps now. What? Cracklin’ Powder? Yep. Do it. It’s Brilliant. It’s an idea I got from my friend and colleague, cookbook author Sandra Guitterez, the Culinary Latinista. Restaurants all over the South are making homemade cracklings, which are fried pig skin. The process is very labor intensive, so just run on out to the Jiffy Mart and buy a bag instead.
Empty a (1.75-ounce) bag of fried pork skins into a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Pulse until finely ground to a powder. Keeps in an airtight container for up to 1 month. Makes ½ cup. To use, sprinkle over the jambalaya and serve immediately.
Creole Country Bouillabaisse, served the Brilliant way with Sautéed Fennel
SERVES 6 TO 8
This is a marriage made in heaven. I grew up in Louisiana enjoying crawfish boils. The Low Country, the area of the Atlantic coast between Savannah, Georgia, and Charleston, South Carolina, is famous for its Low Country boil, also known as Frogmore Stew. The south of France is famous for bouillabaisse. All are simple country seafood stews. I’ve combined the three, taking the best from each. Crawfish are available by mail order, online, and are sold live in better seafood markets in the spring.
2 tablespoons pure olive oil
1 onion, preferably Vidalia, chopped
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
12 to 16 red new potatoes, about the size of golf balls
4 quarts homemade seafood stock or water
1 head garlic, cloves separated and peeled
½ cup (3-ounce bag) Old Bay Seasoning
Bouquet garni (2 bay leaves, preferably fresh, 5 sprigs thyme, 4 sprigs flat-leaf parsley, 10 black peppercorns, tied together in cheesecloth)
¼ cup tomato paste
2 (28-ounce) cans crushed tomatoes
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
2 pounds fresh kielbasa, cut into pieces
6 ears fresh sweet corn, shucked and silk removed, broken in half
12 live crawfish
1½ pounds skinless halibut fillet, cut into large chunks
12 large shrimp (21/25 count), in the shell
12 mussels, scrubbed and debearded
12 cherrystone clams, scrubbed
Jalapeño Cornbread Muffins or crusty bread, for serving
Heat the oil in a large, heavy stockpot over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the onion and cook until translucent, 3 to 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add the potatoes, seafood stock, garlic, Old Bay, bouquet garni, tomato paste, tomatoes, and cayenne pepper. Cover the pot and heat to a rolling boil. Decrease the heat to simmer and cook until fragrant and flavorful, about 15 minutes. Add the sausage, corn, and live crawfish and return to a boil. Cook until the potatoes are tender, about 10 minutes.
Add the fish and cook gently until just opaque, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the shrimp, mussels, and clams and cook until the shrimp shells are pink and the meat is white and opaque and the mussels and clams have opened, an additional 3 to 4 minutes. Taste the broth and adjust for seasoning with salt and pepper.
To serve, transfer portions of the seafood to warmed shallow soup bowls. Spoon the broth over the seafood and serve immediately with the muffins.
Fennel is a traditional ingredient in the French version of this stew. To elevate our tasty Basic stew to Brilliant, try making a caramelized Sautéed Fennel garnish. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil (or bacon fat if you are feeling really decadent) in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add 1 fennel bulb, cored and chopped, and 1 clove garlic, mashed into a paste. Decrease the heat to medium. Season with coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper. As the fennel starts to brown and caramelize, after about 15 minutes, add ¼ cup homemade
seafood stock, homemade
chicken stock, or reduced-fat, low-sodium chicken broth. Cover with a tight fitting lid to steam until tender, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat. Taste and adjust for seasoning with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Makes about ½ cup. To serve, fill the warmed bowls with the seafood and broth. Garnish with the fennel and serve immediately.
Soft-Shell Crabs with Shrimp Stuffing, the Brilliant version of Grilled Soft-Shell Crabs with Lemon Gremolata
SERVES 4 TO 6
I learned to make this from my friend chef Penn Lehman. We were like peas and carrots in culinary school. As an avid fisherwoman seafood is her specialty—even in Park City, Utah, home of her award-winning restaurant, The Blind Dog Grill, where the fish is flown in daily from all over the world. Gremolata is an Italian condiment made from finely minced parsley, garlic, and lemon zest. It is traditionally served with osso buco, but it is also an excellent accompaniment for fish and shellfish dishes.
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
2 cloves garlic, very finely chopped
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
⅓ cup pure olive oil
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 to 6 soft-shell crabs
¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted, or ¼ cup clarified butter
To make the gremolata, combine the parsley, thyme, garlic, lemon zest, and olive oil in a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Prepare a charcoal fire using about 6 pounds of charcoal and burn until the coals are completely covered with a thin coating of light gray ash, 20 to 30 minutes. Spread the coals evenly over the grill bottom, position the grill rack above the coals, and heat until medium-hot (when you can hold your hand 5 inches above the grill surface for no longer than 3 or 4 seconds). Or, for a gas grill, turn on all burners to high, close the lid, and heat until very hot, 10 to 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, clean and prepare the crabs. Hold a crab in one hand and bend back the pointed ends of the shell. Using your fingers, remove the cottony pale gray gills on the sides. Turn the crab over and snip off the small flap (the apron) and the head with a pair of kitchen scissors. Tomalley is the soft green liver and is considered a delicacy. It is very rich; however, if you don’t like the taste of the tomalley, gently squeeze the crab to remove it. Rinse the entire crab well, pat dry, and set aside.
Brush the surface of the crabs with melted butter and season with salt and pepper.
To cook the crabs, grill over direct heat until bright red and slightly charred, 3 to 5 minutes per side. Serve immediately, topped with gremolata.
I did a little happy dance when I first tasted this dish. Brilliant almost doesn’t express how good this is. Combine 2 lightly beaten egg whites, 2 teaspoons dry mustard, ⅓ cup
mayonnaise, and the juice of ½ lemon in a bowl. Fold in 1 pound peeled small shrimp, very finely chopped. Season with salt and pepper. To stuff the crabs, insert just enough of the shrimp mixture to fill the opening between the top shell and the body of each crab; don’t overstuff. If any of the shrimp mixture remains, reserve for another use such as shrimp cakes or a decadent omelet filling. Proceed as directed for the Basic recipe.
Cut 1½ cups (3 sticks) of unsalted butter into 1-inch pieces and melt over low heat in a heavy saucepan. When the butter stops sizzling, remove the pan from the heat and let stand for 3 minutes. With a spoon, skim the froth off the top; discard. Slowly pour the rest into a jar or crock, leaving the milky solids in the bottom of the pan; discard. Store the clarified butter in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 month. Makes 1 cup. Browned Butter or Beurre Noisette is prepared in the same way, but the butter is heated a bit longer, until the milk solids turn into rich, golden brown flecks.
Mama's BBQ Chicken, Endive and Roquefort Slaw.
Pan-Seared Georgia Trout