Jill Santopietro's Braised Fennel with Meyer Lemon and Parmesan

I was smitten by the close relationship that I witnessed between farmers and chefs in Los Angeles last week, and I wonder if that feeling wasn't underlined by an article I'd read a month earlier in the New York Times Magazine. The Lee Bros wrote a profile of Ben Friedman, one of the men who supplies New York City's top restaurants with the same produce that the L.A. restaurants have right in their own backyard (figuratively speaking).

I wonder, was I the only one who felt a little bad for Mr. Friedman? He seemed so harried, so nervous that the chefs he supplied would turn on him in an instant. The constant rush to be number one, the constant fear that his baby radishes or white potatoes would be rejected in favor of someone else's, the nerve-wracking judgment calls about what chefs will want before they even know themselves - that is a level of stress I can't really imagine. And it stood in such stark contrast to the relaxed nature of the transactions I saw last week.

Oh sure, I know that a lot goes on behind the scenes that I don't know about, that farmers' lives are more difficult - in entirely different ways - than Friedman's, and that it's silly to make sweeping generalizations about a world that I know little about, even if it does interest me more and more each day. But still, taken superficially, I think I'd rather be a Southern Californian farmer than a Manhattan produce supplier any day.

The article was capped by a simple recipe for braised fennel that barely caught my eye. It seemed too simple for a recipe, more like something that you might have learned from your grandmother, perhaps, and committed to memory from the many times you watched her make it. I put the recipe aside and promptly forgot about it. But after my 10-day food marathon in Los Angeles, in which precious few meals were cooked at home, I realized that that simple recipe might be just the thing to ease my way back into the kitchen again.

And it almost feels a little silly to write about here, because there's barely anything to it. But I have to tell you about it because, after all, though the recipe says that it serves four people, I ate the entire dish myself last night. And don't you agree that something like that warrants mentioning? Even if it does come at my own expense. (That I, ostensibly, ate four portions of vegetables perhaps mitigates my gluttony somewhat, but only barely.)

The recipes proceeds much like a beloved braised endive recipe that my father taught me years ago and that, almost quite literally, kept me alive when I lived in Paris. You brown some sliced fennel in a pan (though don't heed the recipe - use a cast-iron pot instead of a fry pan, unless you're lucky enough to own something like this, with sides and a top, you lucky dog), then deglaze the pan with chicken broth, Meyer lemon juice, and Meyer lemon zest. The heat goes down, the top goes on, and half an hour later you've got yourself a silky pile of tender fennel, transformed into creamy, luscious spears of vegetal goodness and spiked with the sweet-sour flavor of Meyer lemons (they are not crucial, I have to say - regular lemons would work just fine, too, though then you'd have to add a sprinkle of sugar to balance the acidity a bit. Just a sprinkle.).

The final touch, which really fine-tunes this dish, is a scattering of Parmigiano shavings (though gratings would be fine, too) on top. There's something about the rich, salty cheese bound into the slightly acidic sauce and mellowed fennel that elevates this into something special. It's simple and quick, but I wouldn't shy away from serving this at a dinner for friends, even. As it was, I topped a plain filet of tilapia (bread-crumbed and pan-fried) with the braised fennel, and though it seemed (before I took a bite) that this meal would end up one of those weird Monday night experiments that never end very well and where health and protein requirements win out over inspired flavor combinations, this actually was quite a delicious pairing. The fish, so mild and delicate, needed a lemony kick and some body to round out the meal, and the vegetables did the trick.

I was quite impressed with myself, and so, so happy to be cooking again. Tonight, unfortunately, while there's leftover tilapia for dinner, it sits naked and fennel-less on my plate. Sadly, I have no one to blame but myself.

Braised Fennel With Meyer Lemon and Parmesan
Serves 4

2 fennel bulbs, fronds attached
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
½ cup chicken broth
Grated peel and juice of 1 Meyer lemon
Parmesan to taste

1. Trim the fennel and roughly chop 1 tablespoon of the fronds. Halve each bulb through the core, then cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch-thick slices.

2. Place a large skillet over medium-high heat and add just enough oil to coat the pan. When hot, cook half the fennel, without moving, until browned, about 3 minutes. Flip and cook 1 minute more. Transfer to a bowl and season with salt and pepper. Repeat with the remaining fennel, adding more oil to the pan if needed.

3. Return the skillet to medium-high heat. Add the fennel, broth, lemon rind and juice and bring to a boil. Simmer, covered, until tender, about 10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a bowl. Raise the heat to high and reduce the sauce until syrupy, 3 to 5 minutes.

4. Fold the sauce and reserved fronds into the fennel and top with Parmesan. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Comments

[Leah]

Even though I'm so glad you had such a lovely time in Southern California, and even though I wish we could somehow have kept you here forever, I'm so glad to have you back in your kitchen, chopping and stirring and sauteeing away!

[Lydia]

What a lovely combination, fennel and Meyer lemon. I've only recently become a fennel lover, and I still don't quite like raw fennel, but when it's slow cooked (braised or roasted), it is sweet and wonderful indeed.

[Jennie]

thank you very much, great article. btw i found great stuff
at OnlyHouseware

[Mary]

I was struck by that article in the Times and worried about that poor guy as well. This recipe looks divine. When delicious ingredients are treated this simply, it's hard to go wrong. Fennel is one of my favorites. Thanks.

[Patricia Scarpin]

Luisa, I have never had fennel (seriously, not kidding here) and since I love both lemon and Parmesan this recipe would be perfect for me to try it for the first time!
I'm tagging it now, tks for sharing!

[Molly]

Oooh ooh! I have a Meyer lemon in the fridge, waiting to be called into action, so this will be on our table tonight. xo

[Sofia]

I have just caught up on your adventures in LA... it was so heartening to read about your magical experiences here-- during the week or so of your stay, I kept wondering (hoping!) that I might run into you... I mean that in a star-struck, blog admirer not psycho stalker kind of way :)

The most impressive thing, was that you actually got yourself to so many different parts of the city! A true inspiration!

This recipe looks perfect too... if only all yummy recipes were so simple and intuitive! Thanks!

[Luisa]

Leah - You and me both! :) You are so sweet.

Lydia - I used to loathe raw fennel as a kid and found it so annoying that my Italian family would put it into all of our salads. Now I really can't get enough of it. It's funny how much it changes through cooking - by the end, it's almost like a different vegetable altogether.

Jennie - uh, thanks, I guess?

Mary - glad to know I'm not the only one worrying about that poor man. Hopefully spring is an easier time for him! Who knows.

Patricia - run! To the market, now! Remedy this travesty! :) Only kidding, but it is such a good vegetable. My favorite way to eat it is sliced paper thin (really really), dressed with lemon juice, olive oil and flaky salt. Oh YUM. If you wanted, you could add some orange segments...but that's almost gilding the lily. Enjoy!

Molly - don't you love it when that happens? Hope you guys enjoyed this. For once, I'm annoyed there are no leftovers.

Sofia - Thank you! Yeah, I had a pretty great time. And still left so much to be discovered. Next time, next time - that's my mantra. I can't wait. ;)

[ann]

that sounds so lovely. I bet it would bet an amazing side dish to that lemony chicken recipe you posted months ago... I can't remember who's it was, but seriously, that's the best thing you've ever posted. It's served me so many times... I can't wait to try them together!

[lindy]

Braised fennel is sort of a miracle food, really. I mean, raw fennel makes some lovely salad, but it seems like just the act of cooking it brings out all sorts of subtle flavors, without adding much of anything in the way of other ingredients- though the parm has a special affinity, I think.
Sort of like toasting nuts-magic.

[Mary]

I'm checking back in to let you know that I made the fennel last night and it was amazing delicious. I had forgotten how much I love fennel. I may have to add this to my Easter menu. Thanks again.

[Luisa]

Ann - it was Amanda Hesser's and I think Ben agrees with you. It's so amazing...

Lindy - Yes yes yes! And the nuts thing, YES. Can you imagine what life must have been like before fire? :)

Mary - so glad you liked it! Adding it to an Easter menu sounds like a fantastic idea.

[Nancy]

Sound wonderful. Cheese and lemons; what could be better. And just in time for Spring.

[Melissa]

I've been following your blog for quite a while and enjoying your wealth of good recipes. When Foodista announced that they are going to publish the best food blogs in a full color book that will be published by Andrews McMeel Publishing Fall 2010, I naturally thought of you. This recipe would be a good submission! You can enter here: http://www.foodista.com/blogbook/submit

Cheers,
Melissa

melissa@foodista.com
Editor and Community Developer
Foodista.com -- The Cooking Encyclopedia Everyone Can Edit

[Karey]

Hi Luisa, I just found your blog this weekend - obviously I'm a late-comer to this fabulous party. I am inspired by your recipes and writing and wishing you best of luck in Berlin, if that is in fact where you ended up moving to last December. On the topic of this recipe, I love it! My friend actually recommended a similar (and just as simple) recipe over the summer. She made a pan of it and we ate the entire thing. I wanted to share with you (and readers) the slight difference in her recipe. Instead of parmigiano she used very roughly chopped kalamata olives. They added, as you mentioned, that saltiness that the sweat braised fennel screams for. Try it if you haven't already. I'm wondering what the harm would be in adding in a little of both! Thanks for the inspiration - I'll definitely be back!