No Longer Bewildered by Fennel

I can recall the first time I tasted fennel.  It was served in a private home in Montreal, Canada during what I can only describe as an extravagant Sicilian meal.

The hostess served raw slices on platters as an intermezzo between two courses of a nine course meal. My unsophisticated palate at the time initially mistook the white slices as onion and thought the platters were perhaps an accompaniment for a dish to follow.  As diners at the gathering began to serve themselves I quickly realized this is either a custom I'm going to have to enjoy for the sake of  my host or these white slices are something other than a white onion. Now having been raised in a simple home of Southern heritage I had seen my grandmother eat a raw onion to fend of some variety of ailment, but never for the pleasure of dining. The gentleman sitting to my left was quick to ascertain my hesitation and as he reached for the platter he whispered over my shoulder "it's raw fennel, it's good, tastes like licorice." As I exhaled my relief I garnished a few slices and delighted in the texture and flavor of the intermezzo.  Thus began my love affair with fennel.

I bought a fennel bulb from our local year round farmers market this week and set my sights on pairing it with a sweet onion I scored earlier from a local grower...gifts from the land~ranks right up there with sea shells collected along our shores as treasured commodities. I've sliced and sauteed fennel many times since my first encounter, but I found a recipe that called for browning to caramelize that I wanted to try. Simple recipe from Simply Recipes (via Pinterest): butter, olive oil, fennel and onion, salt and later dressed with fresh parsley, lemon and grated Parmesan.

It's all about the brown bits in this recipe, as is the case anytime one browns with butter. I took a Slowcountry route with this recipe (as recommended) and allowed for an additional thirty minute extension to the initial cooking time. The result, a lovely dish that can stand alone or find itself reconfigured for many additional pleasures~tucked inside tarts, spread across toast points, tossed with pasta, etc.

From a moment of bewilderment to a comprehensive appreciation for a flavor point that delivers itself raw or browned to perfection. Never boring.

Forget the wake just roast it

Some aspects of one's life really should not go "out" with a sad remorseful departure. Rather, they should be roasted with humor and accompanied by an acknowledgement of the humility, compassion and wisdom gained from having had the experience. Favorite foods, spirited past times, and even some people all have their proverbial day (or days) in the sun. At certain junctures one must say goodbye to even the most treasured elements of life to garnish well-being. Our household said goodbye to gluten this week and though we will slip out of the "free" zone while attending wine dinners, chef demos and cooking classes we have opted to retain the state of "no gluten" at home. Thus, creatively we must expand our palate away from chips, breads and pastas to link our brains to other texture-rich and flavorful foods. Back to relishes we go this week. I've prepared this Emeril Lagassee dish for Roasted Fennel and Green Bean Relish at Thanksgiving in the oven so this week I'd like to revive it on the grill for summer enjoyment. The moral of the story is while some foods must go, others may be reoriented to fit the season.