Fennel with Lemon and Peel, by Brandin.
Recipe below: Braised Fennel Bohemian Style
I love cooking with the lumpy, hard vegetables I find in winter—celery root, turnips, even rutabaga. But there comes a time each year when beige and impenetrable loses its luster. That time has now come again. My Mediterranean just kicked in, and all the pretty citrus in the world can’t squelch my urge for tomatoes, eggplant, fresh garlic, and sweet peppers, all at their prime. I’m wishing I could bring back my uncle Billy’s summer ciambotta, the way he took his sun-warmed garden bounty and braised everything together in a big blackened pot until a glorious vegetable stew emerged, its surface shimmering with olive oil. He served it with Arthur Avenue bread and crappy red wine. That’s where I want to be right now, fifteen years old, wearing ridiculously large hoop earrings, hanging with Billy in Rye, New York, in his puny backyard, so close to Playland that we could hear the kids scream with horror and joy as they rode the mighty Dragon Coaster. We’d eat his ciambotta not hot but just warm, out of deep white bowls. The flavors were stronger at that temperature, he’d say.
Ciambotta is Southern Italy’s ratatouille, and it’s what I would call essential summer. Obviously essential summer is not just the ciambotta. It’s the entire scene and ritual around its preparation. But grand scenes can be made on 13th Street in Manhattan, too, in mid-February, when cooking something in the same spirit but using winter staples becomes a celebration for a cold, gray day.
So what do I make instead? Sometimes I cook fenouils à la Bohémienne. It’s a Provençal vegetable stew, a cousin to ratatouille and to ciambotta where fennel replaces the eggplant. This fragrant dish is really welcoming when I want something Mediterranean and herby but everything I wish for is out of season, except for supermarket fennel, canned tomatoes, and maybe a decent onion. If you can find an acceptable zucchini, throw that in. I couldn’t find any.
Braised Fennel Bohemian Style
(Serves 4)
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 large fennel bulbs, trimmed and cut into medium dice
½ roasted red pepper, peeled, seeded, and chopped
1 small onion, diced
1 celery stalk, chopped
½ teaspoon fennel seeds, toasted and ground
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
A big pinch of sugar
Salt
Black pepper
A big pinch of piment d’espelette
1 15-ounce can whole plum tomatoes, drained and chopped
A tiny splash of pastis
About 6 large tarragon sprigs, the leaves lightly chopped
A dozen or so basil leaves, cut into chiffonade
A few drops of tarragon vinegar
Grated grana Padano cheese (optional)
In a big skillet, heat about a tablespoon or so of olive oil over medium flame. Add the fennel, red pepper, onion, and celery, and sauté until it’s all just starting to soften, about 6 minutes. Add the fennel seed, garlic, sugar, salt, black pepper, and piment d’espelette. Sauté a minute longer to blend those flavors. Add the tomatoes and a tiny splash of pastis (this stuff has a strong anise flavor, so you only want a hint). Simmer, partially covered, until everything is fork tender but not mushy, about another 5 minutes (I like it best when the tomatoes stay in pieces and don’t break down into a purée). Add a drizzle of water to loosen everything up. Turn off the heat, and add the herbs and a drizzle of fresh olive oil. Add a few drops of tarragon vinegar. Taste to see if it needs more salt or pepper. Serve hot or warm, sprinkled with grated grana Padano if you like.
