Bar au Fenouil

Provence's whole sea bass grilled over a bed of dried fennel stalks, flamed with pastis so the smoke perfumes the fish from below

Origin: Marseille & Provence

From the journey of Fennel.

This is a dish about smoke rather than about seasoning. Dried fennel stalks, cut in late summer when the plant has gone woody and hung until they are brittle, are laid in a bed under a whole sea bass; as the fish cooks they smoulder rather than burn, and the aromatic smoke rises through the skin and into the flesh. At the end a small glass of pastis is poured over the stalks and lit, which is theatre and is also a second and fiercer burst of the same aromatic, since the pastis and the fennel share it. That shared compound is anethole, and it is the reason the whole Provençal fish kitchen tastes as it does. Fennel, anise, and star anise belong to three unrelated botanical families and taste alike because they arrived at the same molecule independently. Pastis is built on anise, the fennel stalks supply the same note from a different plant, and the fish sits between them. The combination of fennel and fish along this coast is old and practical rather than fashionable. Fennel grows wild on the calcareous hillsides behind Marseille, it is free, and the stalks are a waste product of a plant already being gathered for its fronds; using them as fuel and flavour at once is the kind of thing a coastal kitchen works out early. The same instinct puts fennel in a bouillabaisse and dried fennel seed into herbes de Provence. Loup de mer, the Mediterranean sea bass, is the classic fish and the name means sea wolf, for its appetite. Any firm whole white fish will do the same job, and the technique matters more than the species.

Ingredients

Fish

  • 1.4 kg whole sea bass, gutted and scaled, or two smaller ones
  • 4 tbsp olive oil
  • 2 tsp coarse sea salt
  • 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Fire

  • 1 large bundle dried fennel stalks, about 20

Stuffing

  • 1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced
  • 1 lemon, sliced
  • 1 small bunch fennel fronds and parsley

To flame

  • 60 ml pastis

To serve

  • 1 lemon, in wedges, to serve
  • 4 tbsp olive oil and a little lemon juice, whisked, to serve

Method

  1. Slash the fish three times on each side, down to the bone, and rub it all over with olive oil, salt, and pepper.
  2. The slashes are not decorative: they let the heat and the smoke reach the middle of a thick fish before the outside overcooks.
  3. Stuff the cavity with the sliced fennel bulb, the lemon slices, and the herbs.
  4. Build a charcoal fire and let it burn down to steady embers with no flame, then lay half the dried fennel stalks directly on the coals.
  5. The stalks must be properly dry. Green stalks steam and give a grassy, sour smoke; brittle ones smoulder and give the sweet aromatic one that the dish is for.
  6. Set the fish on a grill rack over the smouldering stalks and cook for ten to twelve minutes.
  7. Turn it once, carefully, using two spatulas or a fish cage, add the remaining stalks to the fire, and give it another ten to twelve minutes.
  8. It is done when the flesh at the thickest part of a slash comes away from the bone cleanly and is opaque throughout.
  9. Lift the fish onto a warm serving dish and lay a few of the smouldering stalks around and under it.
  10. Warm the pastis briefly in a small pan, pour it over the stalks, and light it, standing back. Let it burn out on its own.
  11. For an oven version, lay a bed of dried stalks in a roasting tin, set the fish on it, and roast at 220°C for twenty-five minutes; the smoke is gentler but the effect holds.
  12. Fillet at the table, spoon a little of the oil and lemon over each portion, and serve with wedges of lemon.

Notes

Everything depends on the stalks being bone dry: cut them when the plant has finished flowering and hang them somewhere airy for a few weeks, or buy them dried from a Provençal or Italian supplier. Embers rather than flames, or the fish chars before it cooks. Slash the fish deeply. The pastis is flamed for the aromatic rather than the alcohol and should be allowed to burn out rather than being smothered; warm it first, since cold spirit is harder to light and more likely to be tipped in too fast. A fish cage makes turning a whole bass far easier and is worth owning if you do this more than once.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

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Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
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