Snapper

Traditionally served with roasted small white potatoes (papitas de cambray) or white rice, this dish is a great representation of the European influence on the cuisine of the Gulf of Mexico. Add raisins and a pinch of cinnamon if you want some sweetness to contrast with the savory capers and olives; for a traditional take, garnish the fish with pickled jalapeños. Either way, a crisp white wine makes a lovely accompaniment.

I love the look, flavor, and textures of this delicate and pretty dish. It’s a perfect way to spotlight the flavors of spring, when fava beans are in season. Other times of the year you can substitute frozen lima beans for the favas; either way the purée is bright from the mint and satisfies your starch cravings. Just be careful not to overcook the beans, as they can turn an unattractive gray. Red snapper, with its pinkish hue, is a quite flavorful white fish that works perfectly with the fava beans. Finish it off with a drizzle of really good-quality extra-virgin olive oil.

This is a simple marriage of butter, shallots, and mushrooms, splashed in a dose of hard cider (the dry, sparkling kind from France or England, sold nearly everywhere you can buy beer and wine) and used to poach fish in a hot oven. The fish may be haddock, cod, monkfish, halibut, red snapper, or any other white-fleshed fish. The cider provides a distinctively sour fruitiness, not at all like white wine, and the completed dish has complementary textures: crunchy shallots, meaty mushrooms (portobellos are good here), and tender fish.

If you have forgotten how delicious a fillet of fish can be, do this: Steam it, with nothing. Drizzle it with olive oil and lemon. Sprinkle it with salt. Eat it. If the number of ingredients and technique are minimal, the challenge is not. You need a high-quality and uniformly thick piece of fish to begin with, your timing must be precise—which is all a matter of attention and judgment, really—and your olive oil flavorful. That taken care of, there is no better or easier preparation.

Try to use branches of fresh oregano, marjoram, or fennel here; they really make a tremendous difference. The first two are grown by many gardeners, and a good gardener can probably spare some. Bronze—herb—fennel grows wild all over southern California and is easy to find (it’s also grown by some gardeners). Occasionally you can find one of these in a big bunch at a market, too; you’ll need a big bunch to try the grilling option. In any case, choose a fish with a simple bone structure so it can be served and eaten easily. The best for this purpose are sea bass, red snapper, grouper, striped bass, and mackerel. One advantage in using the oven over the grill is that in roasting you can add some peeled, chunked potatoes to the bottom of the roasting pan as well; they’ll finish cooking along with the onions.

We tend to think of grilling as the ideal way to cook many foods, but the broiler is more valuable when you want to save a marinade and the fish’s pan juices. A recipe like this one was originally cooked in a pan over an open fire, and you can certainly follow that tradition, but the broiler makes quick work of it. Though the dish is French, it’s very southern, and I might serve a simple pasta beforehand; Tomatoes Provençal (page 494) would also be in the right spirit, as would a simple salad.

Couscous is a small pasta—not a grain as most people believe—as well as the name of almost every North African dish that contains it. So there are innumerable fish, vegetable, meat, and chicken couscous dishes (see pages 526 to 527 for a couple of others). You can cook the couscous separately (see page 526) or steam it on top of the simmering stew, a nice touch for which you will need either a special utensil called a couscoussière or a steamer rigged inside of a covered pot in which you cook the sauce. If you are not comfortable cooking pieces of whole fish, substitute a firm fillet like red snapper or grouper and reduce the fish cooking time to about 10 minutes; do not overcook.

Dates, of course, are a staple food of the Sahara and many other deserts; they grow on palm trees, keep forever, and, to nomads, are far more important than any bread product. But only in coastal North Africa and parts of the Middle East does date country meet the sea and a dish like this come about. Substitute prunes for dates if you prefer. A simple pilaf, chosen from among those on pages 513 to 514, would be great here, as would Houria (page 191).

This is an interesting technique: the fish is oven steamed, with just a tiny bit of liquid, thus retaining all of its own juices. Traditionally the packages would be made with banana or other large leaves, and they would be buried in hot ashes. Foil is much more convenient, if not quite as interesting or flavorful. If you make this with fillets, the cooking time will be under 10 minutes. Serve this with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477) and a lightly dressed vegetable.

This dish is popular throughout Southeast Asia (I had it in Vietnam), where firm-fleshed river fish are plentiful. Carp is an excellent choice for freshwater fish, as is wild catfish (I’m not a fan of farmed catfish), but red snapper or sea bass is also good. Lime leaves are not always available; substitute grated lime zest if necessary. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). This would be great with Green Papaya Salad (without the shrimp, page 198).

Lemongrass, the seasoning most closely associated with Southeast Asia, plays a major role here, despite the presence of many other ingredients. Nothing else “cleans” the taste of the fish quite like it. Serve with any rice dish.

The highlight of many meals in Chinese restaurants, yet few dishes are easier to prepare at home. Start with a medium-sized firm-fleshed fish—black bass and red snapper are ideal, but grouper or, if you can find it, small striped bass, are also good—preferably with its head on (if the head won’t fit in your steamer, cut it off, along with the tail). Scales must be removed and the fish must be thoroughly cleaned; any fishmonger can do this for you. Serve the fish with white rice and, preferably, a few other Chinese dishes.

It doesn’t take long, but this dish requires a fairly large pan. A long, narrow roasting pan will do in a pinch, especially if it’s nonstick. If you have trouble getting the fish to fit into your pan, by all means cut off its head and tail. Or try making this with smaller fish, in the 2- to 3-pound range. Then, when you feel you’ve gotten the hang of browning a whole fish, move on to larger specimens. This is a blast to eat—and should have enough sauce to make plain white rice a terrific accompaniment. A simple Chinese-style vegetable like Snow Peas with Ginger (page 470) would make the meal even better.

Not far from the cooking traditions of American freshwater fishermen, this is simple panfried fish with a separately made sauce. If you’re shopping, look for small specimens of black sea bass or red snapper; if you’re fishing, large mouth bass, croaker, spot, and porgies are all good. In any case, you need the fish to fit in your pan. In fact, two small fish are better than one large one in this instance. Use the best soy sauce you can find for this dish. There’s not much sauce here, so unless you’re from a rice-eating culture, you might find rice a bit dry. Cold Noodles with Sesame Sauce (page 532) would make a great starter, or you could serve this with Egg Noodles with Spring Onions (page 536). For vegetables, try Quick-Braised Root Vegetables with Hoisin (page 499) or Snow Peas with Ginger (page 470).

Best done with small fish—four 1-pound red snappers or black bass are ideal—this technique, among the world’s easiest and most reliable, can also be used with larger fish. But I wouldn’t go above a couple of pounds each, or cooking them through under the broiler will be tricky. Bear in mind that some broilers (especially electric ones) may cycle on and off, which is undesirable here; if you prop open the door, the heating element is more likely to remain on. You could, of course, serve this as you would any plain broiled fish, with a salad and vegetable or starch, for example. Typical Japanese choices might be rice (of course), along with Chicken and Cucumber Salad (without the chicken, page 182) or Eggplant Salad with Mustard-Miso Dressing (page 185).

A quick and simple dish, one that produces a beautiful sauce to use on white rice. Halibut is ideal here, but swordfish steaks are great too, and you can even make this preparation with thick white fillets of grouper, red snapper, or sea bass. Use dashi (which can be prepared in just a few minutes) if at all possible, chicken stock if not.

“Russian Sauce” is probably the origin of Russian dressing, though the two no longer have much in common; still, the pickles and capers mark the relationship. This is most traditionally made with sturgeon (which is a wonderfully sturdy and flavorful fish) but can be made with any firm white fillet, from carp, catfish, or sturgeon to red snapper, sea bass, or grouper. Serve with boiled potatoes or plain white rice.

An unexpected but delicious use for hard-cooked eggs that, of course, can be made in advance. If you have fish stock, poach the fish in it, but if you don’t, don’t worry about it. Serve this with plain boiled potatoes.

Sour cream sauce is standard throughout Eastern Europe, and it’s not as bland as you might think or as you might have experienced. The dish should be quite sour, for one thing, and a bit hot—if your paprika has little flavor, either buy a new supply or spike it with cayenne—and it should be finished with fresh herbs. Serve this over rice or buttered noodles or with crusty bread.

This dish sparks a vision of an ice fisher on a frozen Eastern European lake, bringing home a fresh carp, combining it with two of that region’s winter staples—bacon and sauerkraut—and roasting it over a hot fire. What a treat that must have been and what a relief from what might have been months without any fresh meat or fish at all. It’s a great dish in a warm winter kitchen in the twenty-first century, too. Use sauerkraut that is fresh or packed in plastic (never canned), which contains no more than cabbage and salt; real sauerkraut needs no preservatives. Serve the dish with mashed or boiled potatoes.