Fishing for Complements

For every Stir Friday, there is now a Fish Friday. Sometimes even a Fish Fry-day, when the impulse to be just a bit bad seizes me. As it did this past Friday. The local market had fresh flounder, which looked fantastic - milky white, opalescent, beautifully filleted - and was hard to resist. Flounder being so mild and unassuming, I knew I had to do something to invest it with a stronger presence. Breading gave it crunch; a sesame, white miso and ginger dressing gave it some swagger. The question was then a matter of sides. I wanted not only to serve something tasty with the fish, but also for the sides to serve the fish in every way. If not raw, I preferred that they'd be at least only lightly cooked, to compensate for the indulgence of frying. I had a head of Napa cabbage to finish up, and was pretty sure I remembered seeing a bag of snow peas in Master's fridge. Yes! There they were! A quick warm slaw of sauteed cabbage and (laboriously) julienned pea pods, very lightly seasoned with ginger, garlic and ponzu, would do nicely. But the plate still felt unbalanced to me. Because the fish was breaded, the flour-and-breadcrumb mixture enlivened with plenty of black pepper, coriander, cumin, sea salt and lime zest, I saw no need for a separate starch. Besides, the last of the flounder fillets had taken its turn in the pan and was already set aside to drain and cool. So it was too late to start up a batch of rice. Back to rummaging through the refrigerator, then, to see what we could find. Basil, Persian cucumbers, ah - very nice. Sounds like a summer salad. Fresh tomatoes - not refrigerated, obviously - a touch of salt and olive oil, and we were done, without breaking much of a sweat. Master loved the breaded flounder, the slaw and the salad, though I noted for future reference that the admittedly assertive flavors of the dressing weren't really to his liking. That's okay. It's not as though I'd worked my palms raw grinding the toasted sesame seeds into paste in the pestle. Actually, I had. But it's still okay.

Another recent Friday fish feast, this one featuring wild-caught steelhead trout, and another challenge of appropriate pairings. I wasn't terribly familiar with this fish, apparently a variety of anadromous rainbow trout, but knew that it was supposed to be very salmon-like in flavor and consistency. The comparison sells the remarkable steelhead trout - delectable, sustainable - short. I'm now among those eager to declare that this was the best piece of "salmon" I've ever eaten. Knowing that salmon takes exceptionally well to Asian flavors, I assumed the trout would hold up to braising in a sweet/sour/spicy butter sauce made with soy, garlic, lots of cilantro and sweet paprika. It did indeed. The butter worked particularly well with the natural richness of the fish. Call me a believer. The leftovers, devoured cold the following afternoon, without even the nicety of utensils, were even more delicious, putting the best poached salmon to shame. This will not be the last appearance of steelhead trout on our dinner table. Trout out the encores, baby!

But Master would probably prefer that I not serve grilled radicchio di Treviso again. He was game enough to try a few bites, punctuating each with a comment about how "different" it was. Well, yes. It is certainly an acquired taste. For me, the play of resonant bitterness and charred sweetness is irresistible, especially when drizzled with balsamic vinegar and good olive oil. And it's just such a gorgeous presence on a plate, with its white ribs and maroon leaves seared brown by the intense heat. Master was far more enthusiastic about the fingerling potatoes, roasted with rosemary, oil and sea salt. I know he enjoyed the variety of colors and the surprising textures - the waxy Russian Banana, the mealier Peruvian Blue, the buttery Ruby Crescent - concealed by the crispy skins. I'm still not sure what he made of the final side, a cold cucumber and roasted beet salad. He does love those beets - I always try to roast a few extra for him to snack on between meals - so my Dijon mustard-laced vinaigrette may have been too sharp for him. I thought it was just right, cutting through both the butter and the bitter, and standing in keen and all-around complementary contrast to the radicchio and roasted potatoes. I'm very proud of this plate.