Love/Hate

Little fish, big controversy.

Some recent night after work I was watching the Iron Chef battle between Mario Batali and Jamie Oliver, Isaac was reading. “Oooooh!” I said. “Look, Pasta con le Sarda!” “Huh?” “Mario’s making pasta with sardines. I’ve always wanted to make that. I think it’s totally weird that it’s got fish, raisins and fennel in it.” “Pasta? With sardines? I’m sold.”

It seemed like the perfect dish. I love pasta but I’m not so keen on fish. Isaac’s the exact opposite. It seemed like a match made in heaven. And then we started discussing the dish.

I wanted to change some things around. I didn’t want to use sardines. Where on earth would I get sardines? In Bay Ridge? On a Sunday? Tell me that… So, what do you want to use? Tuna. Tuna? Ewh. Why would you use tuna? Because I like tuna and I don’t really like sardines. Well why on earth would you suggest making something with sardines then? Etc. Etc. Etc.

The discussion never got heated, just testy, but just testy enough to make it seem like a good idea to shelve the dish for a while. So we made spinach pie. Spinach pie. The peacemaker. Who knew?

Then, on Saturday, piscine providence provided.

I had already settled on roasting a chicken and making some Asian-esque soup with dumplings from the leftovers as the weekend’s culinary activities, but Isaac came back from the gym with amazing news. Cosentino’s, the local fish market, had fresh sardines.

They were beautiful, shiny, plump, glistening and as fresh as fresh fish can be. They smelled of the ocean and were soft and silky to the touch. Their eyes were so bright and shiny, like they were still chasing tiny krill through the icy waters of the Atlantic. But I couldn’t. Nope.

I don’t know when it happened or how, but I don’t like fish. Okay, that’s only about 87% honest. I don’t like most fish. I love cod, but feel guilty eating it. And don’t even put a bowl of clams in front of me, because they’ll be gone by the time you turn back around. Tuna’s alright, especially when smeared in mayonnaise and hot sauce and wrapped inside seaweed and gulped down with pickled ginger. I also don’t mind fish on vacation, like in Croatia, where it was all even fresher than the sardines I was staring down. But at home? Not so much.

So I stood there, waffling. I knew how much Isaac wanted them. I knew that they were local, and seasonal. But I failed. I settled on a hunk of tuna and some clams. I could feel the disappointment emanating in waves off both Isaac and the fish guy. The fish guy said he only brought in the sardines when they were exceptional, and that he knew no one would buy them. It felt awful proving him right.

I was wracked with guilt on the walk home, hugging my tuna airlifted in from warmer climes. I had just failed miserably as a foodie. I had left the delicious delicacy from the sea back in that store on a bed of ice. And so, I relented. I asked Isaac to go back and get the little fishes, but to make sure the guy gutted them. I hate gutting fish.

The sauce is, as the Naked Chef would say, easy peasy. You cut some vege, cook the vege, add tomatoes and stew. The cleaning of the fish though? Far more than I expected. I figured the fish guy would not only gut them but remove their spines too. Oh no. Nope. He left that for me.

The first one was difficult, but by the end I had the hang of it. You just insert the tip of a knife under the spine near the tail and drag backwards, pulling out the tail. Then you lift the spine and pull towards the head. Where the spine breaks, you cut off that part of the fish. The ribs will be too big and thick to melt in the cooking process. But this is not a neat procedure. Little bits of fish fly everywhere. You have been warned.

The sauce turned out well, very well in fact, but for me the star of the meal was the pasta. I took a cue from Mario and rather than adding saffron to the sauce, I added it to the noodles. I made pappardelle because I love them, and these noodles might be the ones I *heart* the most in all the world. They are spectacular.

The first bite of the meal was, to me, a little too fishy, but by the end I was very happy. It’s kind of a cross between puttanesca and Huachinango Veracruzano, but with more depth and mystery. I’m not sure I’ll ever make it again, even though the leftovers were excellent on some Trader Joe’s artichoke ravioli. It was just too contentious. Too stressful.

Dinner should be delicious, not fraught.

Head below the jump for Ann’s recipes for Pasta con le Sarda and Golden Papparedelle.

Pasta con le Sarda

prep time: 1 hour, give or take, depending on your fish ~ cooking time: 1 hour

• Olive Oil
• 1 Onion, sliced
• 4-6 cloves Garlic, minced
• Anchovies, to taste
• 1 hot, dried Chile, chopped
• 2 medium Fennel Bulbs, chopped and washed
• Salt & Pepper
• 1/2 c Dry Vermouth
• 2 little boxes of Golden Raisins, soaked in warm water for 20 minutes and drained
• a handful of Pine Nuts or Slivered Almonds
• 1 box of Pomi crushed Tomatoes
• 4-5 fresh Sardines, cleaned and chopped into bite sized pieces + 1-2 fresh Sardines per person, cleaned and set aside
• your favorite pasta, homemade or from the store

Heat a glug of olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook for a few minutes. Add a few anchovies to taste and the dried chile. Cook for a few minutes until the anchovies break down. Add the fennel and cook until begins taking on a golden color. Season with salt and pepper, turn up the heat and add the vermouth. Cook until nearly evaporated. Add the raisins, pine nuts and tomatoes. Turn heat to medium again and bring to a simmer. Add the chopped sardines and cook until broken apart.

The sauce is done and can hold now until the pasta is done.

Just before serving brush the remaining sardines with olive oil, season with salt and pepper and place on a cookie sheet. Turn on the broiler and cook the fish under the broiler for a minute or two. Do not allow them to burn.

To serve, cook the pasta until al dente and drain. Put a pile of pasta on each persons plate, spoon some sauce on top and give each person a fish. Finish with a drizzle of very good olive oil. Enjoy!

Golden Pappardelle

prep time: 20 minutes ~ cooking time: 3 minutes

• 1 3/4 c Flour
• 4 Egg Yolks
• Water
• Salt
• Saffron

Cook’s Note: You will need a spritzer full of water for this recipe.

Put the flour in a large bowl and create a well in the middle. Combine the egg yolks with a dash of water (about 2 tbsps), a pinch of salt and as much saffron as you can stand. Mix to combine. Pour the liquid into the flour and mix it in as best as you can with a fork. Turn the dough out onto a clean, dry surface and begin kneading. The dough will be very dry and very crumbly. That is okay.

Spritz the dough with water from time to time until it comes together into a cohesive mass, then keep kneading and lightly sprtizing until the dough becomes stretchy, springy and perfectly smooth. Wrap in plastic wrap and allow to sit for 15-20 minutes.

Run the dough through your pasta machine to the fifth thickness. Cut into long wide noodles. Cook in a large pot of salted, boiling water for a few minutes, 3-5 until done. Toss with your favorite sauce. Enjoy!

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