A great fish stew — whether the saffron-tinged bouillabaisse of Provence, the tomatoey cacciucco of Tuscany, the milky, potato-studded chowder of New England, or the garlicky cioppino of San Francisco — calls to mind the savory smell of seaweed, the briny taste of sea air, even the rhythmic lapping of waves. It’s a multisensory experience that transports the eater to the shore.Mitchell Davis
One Fish, Stew Fish
The Great Cioppino of San Francisco
It’s hard enough to follow a recipe, you say, how can you be expected to concoct a dish that transports you to the sea? The secret to good cooking is enhancing flavor, whether by purchasing the best ingredients, by combining them in certain ways, by applying specific techniques to draw out umami and other goodness, or by using a combination of all three. Layering flavor, to create both clarity and complexity, is what distinguishes great cooks from merely good ones. It helps bring all the senses into play. It’s also how you make a great fish stew.
Think of it as a painting. First, you create a background dappled with different colors. For New England chowder, the background is salt pork, potatoes, and milk; for cioppino, think garlic, tomatoes, and chili. More elements are added. Some are blended — such as fish stock and clam juice; some are highlighted to stand out — the meatier chunks you’ll sink your teeth into at the table. The whole thing coalesces and forms one beautiful object, though certain aspects can still be distinguished from others. Timing is key. The background must simmer and reduce enough to form a strong foundation. Toward the end, you add the individual fish and shellfish one at a time, so they don’t overcook. Every bite of a good fish soup, like every fresh look at a good painting, reveals something new.
Le Bacon in Cap d’Antibes, where Laurent once worked, is the most famous and arguably the best bouillabaisse restaurant in the world. Each day the cooks prepare giant vats of a concentrated vegetable base composed of onions, garlic, tomato, saffron, and wine. When the day-boat fish arrive at the restaurant’s back door, they go directly into those vats, head first and whole, to steep overnight or longer. The fish, guts and all, impart a profound flavor to the soup, a transfer that continues as each portion of soup is cooked and finished for service. The process is laborious and messy, and requires orchestration and space, but its reliance on the season and the catch, not to mention the staff schedule and the traffic en route from the dock, shows how a fish stew is more than just a dish. It’s an ecosystem of land and sea.
In any coastal town where fishing forms a significant part of the local economy, the traditional foods include a fish stew or two. What they generally have in common is that they exclude the most prized catch, which fetches the most money at market. Instead, the stews exploit uglier, bonier fish filled with character and flavor — complex and deep, like the sea.
The preparation of this cioppino makes the air of your kitchen fragrant and moist, all garlic, tomato, and brine. Bring the dish, covered, to the table, so that when you remove the lid your guests are met with a transporting gust of a sea breeze. ●
Here’s the recipe for cioppino.
