Main Ingredients:

See below ingredients and instructions of the recipe

Cooking Preparation of the Recipe:

---------------------------FENNEL--------------------------------

Wild fennel, also known as common fennel, is magnificent--its airy
plumes of rich green leaves can grow 5 feet tall. This is the fennel
that gives us abundant leaves and aromatic seeds for cooking.
However, the stalks at the base of common fennel, which wrap around
one another to form a bulb, are tough and the bulb itself is skimpy.
Common fennel is regarded as a seasoning herb.
For a vegetable, Mother Nature gave us Florence fennel. These plants
may not provide delicious seeds and may not grow nearly as tall as
its dramatic cousins, but Florence is the fennel with a plump, snowy
bulb. Florence is the fennel bulb that adds sweetness to salads,
soups and other vegetables, and complements every fish and seafood
imaginable.

MEET THE FENNEL FAMILY There are more members of the fennel family,
and it's good to know them, otherwise you may send for seeds and find
yourself growing a different fennel from the one you had in mind.
Sweet fennel is close to common--it has no bulb to speak of but is
endowed with large, fragrant seeds. Bronze fennel is a form of common
fennel with an unusual color--the leaves all but disappear in
afternoon sunlight.
The fennel plant is a perennial. Normally, it grows to just this
side of adulthood the first year, then the second year it matures and
flowers.
But Florence fennel can be temperamental. If it isn't happy with its
circumstances, it will flower without even bothering to form a
bulb--this makes every part but the flowers and leaves inedible. The
cultivar Zefa Fino was developed by Swiss breeders not to flower
prematurely. Should flower stalks appear even so, nip them out.
While common, sweet and bronze fennels can thrive on poor soil; prima
donna Florence wants fertile, moist soil. If you haven't room in the
garden, Florence fennel is handsome in a 5 to 6 gallon pot.

SERVE AS HORS D'OEUVRE Florence fennel has an almost exotic flavor in
its licoriceness. It's wonderful as part of an hors d'oeuvres
selection--cut bulbs lengthwise into slender chunks as you would
celer, letting the core hold a number of pieces together. Serve witha
pot of coarse salt on the side.
Or offer a shallow dish of pinzimonio, which is simply your finest
olive oil seasoned with a speck of salt and freshly ground black
pepper and served as a dip for raw vegetables.
Fennel seeds have a smokier character than the flavor of Florence's
bulb. Harvest seeds when they start turning brown. Cut the clusters
off the branches and spread them on a cloth to dry in a warm, dark,
dry place (this will take a couple of weeks). Rub the seeds off the
stems and transfer them to a dark glass jar. Cover airtight and store
with other dried condiments in a cool, dark, dry place.
Fennel seeds make bread special. Try mixing a tablespoon into your
favorite dough. Or brush storebought French or Italian bread with
beaten egg, sprinkle fennel seeds over the top, and bake until the
egg sets and the seeds are stuck in place. Fennel seeds are what give
fresh Italian sausage its zing.

SUBLIME IN SOUP Prepare a sophisticated first course soup by combining
sliced fennel, onions, unsalted butter, and virgin olive oil
thoroughly and baking in the oven at 375 degrees until tender and
slightly carmelized. Add chicken and beef broth blended with water
and Pernod liqueur, and bake at 325 degrees another hour.
The liqueur Pernod is clear and greeny yellow, the color of fennel's
blossoms. Anise-flavored, it gives a dish with fennel delicious
depth--and a splash stands in for fresh fennel in all sorts of
Mediterranean compositions. Pernod is costly, but keeps indefinitely
at room temperature.
Fo an easy cold-weather come-for-soup invitation, complete the meal
with bowls of baby carrots, Kalamata olives, a room temperature salad
of cooked dried white beans dressed with olive oil and fresh lemon
juice, a plate of paper thin slices of pepperoni or other
not-too-spicy dried sausage and a basket of bread sticks.

Source: FOODday/The Oregonian, by Sylvia Thompson Typed by Dorothy
Flatman, 1995
Submitted By DOROTHY FLATMAN On 02-08-95

Browse by categories