SFist in the Kitchen: Fennel

Fennel
California cuisine means something different to everyone. Some equate it with local, artisanal producers. Some cast it as a Mediterranean cuisine realized with California ingredients and American techniques. But for us, it all comes down to the fennel. Every chef who's come through Chez Panisse's kitchens uses this anisey, wintergreen-colored vegetable. We're pretty sure that if you made a pizza with grilled fennel, meyer lemon-infused artisanal olive oil, and rocket, the space-time continuum would collapse and Alice Waters would magically appear in your kitchen.

We fell under this vegetable's spell long ago (as opposed to the Fennels on Veronica Mars, which are more recent faves) and we're happy to see it back at area markets, where it should stay until May. You might also spot anise, which one farmer tells us has smaller bulbs and bigger fronds, but you probably won't find fennel's close cousin hemlock. If you're harvesting the wild fennel scattered about the Bay Area, avoid the lookalikes with purple splotches at the base; those are hemlock.

Photos by Melissa Schneider

Fennel Blood Orange Salad
The SFist Test Kitchen staff loves raw fennel. Cut off the stalks, peel off the outer layers, cut the bulb in half from top to bottom, chisel out the woody core at the bottom, and slice the vegetable into thin slices. One of our favorite salads combines fennel slices, supremed oranges, curls of a hard cheese, mustard vinaigrette, and prosciutto. It's a good thing we like this combo so much: Every restaurant within a 100-mile radius will be serving it for the next month or so.

Fennel and Stuffed Pork
But we like cooked fennel as well. We caramelize fennel by tossing thick lengthwise wedges in oil and salt and then roasting for forty-five minutes at 425°. They make a nice base for a pork tenderloin stuffed with goat cheese and sautéed oyster mushrooms. We also braised fennel wedges and celery root in vermouth and used the veggies as a bed for bass that we rubbed down with minced fennel and salt a half hour before cooking.

Indeed, fennel and fish are made for each other. In Chez Panisse Vegetables, Alice Waters has you poach halibut in a fennel broth made with seeds as well as bulbs. And the delicate fronds are a good stand-in for chervil, a fish-friendly, delicate herb that you rarely see here.

It doesn't take much culinary sleuthing to figure out that fennel is a dominant force in Mediterranean culture, where it's known as finocchio, and is said to be the vessel where Prometheus hid the coals that taught humans about fire and earned him a gruesome punishment. A few Italian traditional salumi rely on the plant's aromatic seeds as a spice. The plant isn't a California native, but it took well to our climate when settlers introduced it a couple centuries back.

Enjoy the fennel now while the bulbs are young and tender. Alice Waters will be proud.

Note: In the Kitchen is moving to a biweekly schedule, but as always, we're eager to hear your thoughts and suggestions.