Spring 2007

Mediterranean Fish Stew with Rouille
 

BY HEATHER T. SHAW

I will admit I would never have tried making this soup if I hadn't watched Julia Child preparing it, step by step, on a videotape I bought for 50 cents at the library book sale.

Was it the mortar and pestle, or perhaps the expensive threads of saffron that put me off? Or the thought of making fish stock and having to stare down those glassy fish eyes and the fishmonger's glare when I requested some fish frames, sending him out back into the smelly slaughterhouse, through the doors behind the gleaming display cabinets that make us forget where fish really comes from? Perhaps it was Julia's hearty cheer. Would it be possible for little old me to chop the head off a cod with a cleaver while smacking my lips malevolently, then gutting the poor thing with gusto and a sip of wine or two for courage?

I wonder now why I even bothered, actually, when I loathe several ingredients, including fennel and saffron. Plus, this required quite a bit of dried orange peel, and I'm not at all fond of fruit mixed with meat or fish. Who thinks ahead of time to eat an orange and trim off the peel and let it dry in perfect timing to make a stew one may be too squeamish to attempt? Not I.

But something looked so delicious, so simple and good, when Julia walked me through the steps. A comforting stew for cold nights, I thought. A healthy stew filled with garlic and onions and plum tomatoes and inexpensive cod. The crust of bread, smeared with "rouille" and dropped into the soup plate before the broth is ladled over, looked intriguing. I can do this, I said, and set off for our wonderful fish market to purchase the cod and the clam juice for stock. (I didn't have either the time or guts to make my own, and I certainly didn't happen to have any sitting around awaiting soup-making whims in my small freezer, though many food writers mention such a thing so breezily and frequently I wonder what's wrong with me.) Another time I made this soup, I even substituted organic chicken broth — sacrilege! — when I couldn't bear to run back out to the store. It made a superb alternative.

I decided to omit some very key ingredients, the earlier mentioned saffron, fennel seeds and dried orange peel, and see if this plainer version would taste as good as I imagined. I prepared the rouille (which means rust in French and is the color of the aioli-like sauce one spreads onto bread crusts as a garnish) first. I knew we'd want to eat the soup as soon as it was ready. Nothing like having to whip up a rouille at the last minute when you're hungry for lunch.

Actually the rouille was simple to prepare. I eschewed the demands for a mortar and pestle with which to mash and combine the garlic with other ingredients and broke the strict admonition by more than one cook by using my food processor for quick preparation. Not authentique, perhaps, but certainly quick and delicious. I cut the amount of garlic way down; you may adjust to taste. Once the sauce was prepared, I went about following Julia's as well as Chuck Taggart's basic instructions for Mediterranean Fish Stew (mine was more like a soup as I only used a third of the fish she suggested) Soon it was bubbling merrily on the stove and I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I don't know why I had such a mental block about making this soup. It's really very easy and not nearly as time-consuming as it sounds. I found it quite light and perfect for a summer meal along with a salad and light dessert.

Mediterranean Fish Stew with Rouille

For the rouille: (Makes about 1 ½ cups)

3-6 peeled cloves of garlic
¼ teaspoon salt 18 fresh basil leaves
¾ cup white bread crumbs, homemade or Panko preferred
3 tablespoons hot stock or milk
3 egg yolks
2 roasted and peeled red bell peppers (Julia used pimentos from a jar)
¾ to 1 cup extra virgin olive oil
Dash Tabasco, or to taste (I omitted)
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Puree the garlic, salt, herbs quickly into a paste. Add the herbs and process until minced. Add the bread crumbs and milk, processing briefly. (Or pull your hair out and do all of this with a mortar and pestle. I didn't have all day.)

Add the red pepper and process to a coarse paste. Transfer to a heavy bowl and whisk in the egg yolks for about a minute. The sauce should be sticky and gooey — a thick, heavy sauce. Leftover sauce may be used on pasta or scrambled eggs.

For the stew/soup:

½ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 cups sliced onions
4-8 chopped garlic cloves
3 cups chopped fresh or canned plum tomatoes
½ teaspoon dried thyme
¼ teaspoon fennel seeds (may omit)
3 pinches of saffron threads (may omit)
1" x 3" piece dried orange peel (may omit)
2 quarts fish stock or clam juice
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1-3 lbs of cod, boneless and skinless, cut into chunks
16 slices of good quality French bread, sliced ¾" thick (brush with olive oil and toast lightly)
1 cup fresh chopped Italian parsley
1-2 cups freshly grated Parmesan

Heat the olive oil in a heavy pot and sauté the onions for about 10 minutes until tender. Stir in the garlic, tomatoes and seasonings, and simmer for 4 minutes. Add the stock, salt lightly and simmer, loosely covered, for 45 minutes. (You could make your rouille during this interim.) Remove the orange peel.

Bring the soup to a boil and add the chunks of fish. Bring back to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer briefly, 2-3 minutes until the fish is barely opaque. It should spring back lightly when you tap it. Taste the broth and add more salt and some pepper, to taste.

To serve, it's best to use wide soup bowls. Spread two slices of French bread per person with rouille and place in the bowl. Ladle on a serving of fish, and then pour soup over all. Sprinkle with parsley and grated cheese, if desired. (I think the cheese is a must.)