GARDEN FRESH : Florence Fennel: The Cultivated Bulb
Probably the most romantic way to appreciate sweet, licorice-tasting fennel is to gather it wild from cliffs overlooking the English Channel, or the Mediterranean, or our own rocky coasts, then stuff fish pulled from those waters with the fennel’s chopped feathery leaves, grill them over fragrant fennel branches, then serve the fish sprinkled with plump fennel seeds.
Wild fennel, common fennel, is magnificent-- airy plumes of rich green leaves can grow five feet tall. This is the fennel that gives us abundant leaves and aromatic seeds for cooking. It’s gorgeous at the back of a mixed border. 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 grow wild on chalky cliffs, or provide delicious seeds; they may grow less than half as tall as their dramatic cousins. But Florence is the fennel with a plump snowy bulb of delicious stalks. The stalks at the base are flat as celery, their upper stems hollow. The bulb perches atop the ground and the plant is charming in the middle of the border wreathed in cosmos, whose foliage matches its featheriness. Florence is the fennel bulb that adds exotic sweetness to salads, soups and other vegetables, and it complements every fish and seafood you ever heard of.
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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 fennel different from the one you had in mind. Sweet fennel is close to common--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.
No good giving you the botanical name for these fennels, since I find most seedsmen and gardening books confuse them. The best thing is to order from a seedsman with seed sense and knowledge. Around here, seeds can be sown in place from early spring through late summer. Mark your new calendar.
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 even without bothering to form a bulb; this makes every part but the flowers and leaves inedible.
While sweet, common and bronze fennels are drought-tolerant and can thrive on poor soil, prima donna Florence wants fertile moist soil. If your summers are terribly hot, give Florence fennel shade in the middle of the day. The cultivar Zefa Fino was developed by Swiss breeders not to flower prematurely. Should flower stalks appear anyway, nip them out.
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If you haven’t a place in the garden, Florence fennel is handsome in a container. Give it a stately five- to six-gallon pot and border with a couple of Alaska nasturtiums. These are the nasties with bright green-marbled-with-cream leaves and vibrant flowers.
Florence fennel has an almost exotic flavor in its licorishness. It’s wonderful as part of an hors d’oeuvres selection: Cut bulbs lengthwise into slender hunks as you do celery, letting the core hold a number of pieces together. Serve with a pot of coarse salt on the side. Or offer a shallow dish of pinzimonio --splendid Italian name for your finest olive oil seasoned with a speck of salt and freshly ground black pepper, meant as a dip for raw vegetables.
Fennel seeds have a smokier character than the flavor of Florence’s bulb. From the seacliff or from the common or sweet fennel in your garden, you’ll 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. It will take a couple of weeks. Rub the seeds off the stems and turn them into 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 brushing commercial French or Italian bread with beaten egg, sprinkling over fennel seeds, and baking until the egg sets and the seeds are stuck in place. Fennel seeds are what gives fresh Italian sausage its zing. Fennel seeds don’t roast until they pop, the way caraways do. To bring out their flavor, you can toast them in a dry skillet, but only for a couple of minutes, or they’ll turn bitter.
Sources:
Fresh Florence fennel is at the market.
Seeds: Zefa Fino Florence fennel, Smokey bronze/common fennel, Tip Top Alaska nasturtiums fan floating row cover from the Cook’s Garden, Box 535, Londonderry, Vt. 05148.
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The inspiration for this soup came from my favorite onion soup, which came from a friend in Paris. It’s easy to put together, and the trick is to have it warming in the oven when guests arrive. Their noses will lift and they’ll ask, “What is that?” It’s the sort of soup that can be the meal for good friends, or a sophisticated first course for an important dinner party.
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. Imported from France, Pernod is costly, but it keeps indefinitely at room temperature. You can buy it at some liquor stores in “airplane size,” which is the right amount for this soup.
For an easy cold - weather come-for-soup invitation, complete the meal with bowls of baby carrots, Kalamata olives, a salad of cooked, dried white beans (cannellini if you can find them, or small limas) 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--these for spooning onto a side dish. Drink a red Cote de Rhone wine, and for dessert, crisp iced apples of the season and Brie.
This can be prepared a day or two in advance and refrigerated, then warmed in a low oven.
ROASTED FENNEL SOUP
2 medium-large bulbs fennel to equal 1 1/2 pounds after trimming off stalks
1 large red onion
1/4 cup unsalted butter, cut in small slices
2 tablespoons fruity olive oil
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Freshly ground white pepper
1 quart clear and fat-free chicken broth
1 quart fat-free beef broth
3 cups water
1/4 cup Pernod
6 to 8 slices hot toasted French bread
Trim off discolored bottoms of fennel bulbs, cut lengthwise in quarters, then slice scant quarter-inch thick, include cores. There should be about 8 heaping cups. Slice red onion same thickness, then quarter slices to get about 4 cups.
Turn fennel, red onion, butter, oil, salt and white pepper to taste into deep 4-quart baking dish, preferably earthenware. Mix well to coat each piece with oil. Set in middle of oven and cook, uncovered, stirring every 15 minutes, until vegetables are tender and slightly caramelized, about 1 1/2 hours.
Blend in broths, water and Pernod. Turn heat to 325 degrees and cook another hour uncovered. At this point, layer wax paper on top, turn heat to lowest setting and let soup stand 1 hour.
Adjust seasonings to taste. Cut toast in 1-inch-size pieces and float few atop each serving. Makes 6 to 8 servings.
Each of 6 servings contains about:
307 calories; 1,580 mg sodium; 22 mg cholesterol; 14 grams fat; 29 grams carbohydrates; 11 grams protein; 0.18 gram fiber.
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