I just got home from Peru, and had been chatting away with a bunch of North and South Americans about the Australian love of Skippy. To eat, that is. (I ate lots of delicious alpaca dishes, and I even tried guinea pig!)
So, I had a metric sshttonne of things to do after almost forty hours in transit - unpacking, work catchups, clean the house, get the bung oven door fixed... but no, it all had to wait because I NEEDED to cook. Every now and then I just crave fresh food and the joy of wielding a knife into it. I popped down to the local IGA and bought some you beaut fresh fennels (did I mention I forgot my oven was limply hanging open and not safe for use?) in amongst a basketful of luscious green stuff. I knew I had a freezer full of meat and on my arrival home I was pleased to see these bad boys in the top drawer:
A quick defrost in the micro-onde and a cue for Sale of the Century thinking music. Yes, I often build my meals around the protein.
I introduced my Dadsy to fennel with my oven roasted warm salad, and as is his way, he's made it his own by making it the star of many a stirfry, often with beef. I ran with that idea at a recent impromptu extended rellies Shiraz Shindig, serving pan seared kangaroo steaks sliced on the oblique and juicy atop my ovenated fennel.
So, what was it for lunch? Bush tomato Skippy & Fennel Stirfry of course!
It went something like this:
(Jetlag permitting)
Slice the fennel into 1cm-ish width short strips, chuck into hot wok with a generous drizzle of olive oil; pull out some frozen lemon slices from your stash (fresh or bottled juice would be fine too) and chuck them in too. Pour over some water, loads of cracked pepper and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar to help with the caramelisation.
Meanwhile, grab your defrosted kangaroo snags (mine already had herbs and bush tomato flavouring) and snip the skins off with some scissors or a knife. Chuck the meat into a big bowl and smoosh into chunks with a spoon.
Add equal splashes of light soy sauce and dry sherry, heaps of pepper and a punch of sugar or tiny bit of balsamic. By now the fennel is pretty much cooked through (go for soft, not al dente) and the liquid in the pan has reduced. Add the lovely roo meat lumps, stirfry the bejeezus out of the mix...
...and hey presto, lunch is served!
(Albeit, not particularly photogenic!)
I'm a very lucky girl, my past self really looks after me, so I was able to have a box of rice reheated out of the freezer in a jiffy. However, I reckon this recipe could be served with pasta, potatoes or cous cous as the carb base. Also, I reckon the addition of some olives and a dollop of tomato (tins, paste or sauce) could easily convert this to more Mediterranean feel.
Mmm, next time I'll use roo steak (more on that later). But only because good alpaca can be hard to find here.
Yay, leftovers for dinner too. Good to be home in the kitchen.
Showing posts with label fennel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fennel. Show all posts
15 November 2012
01 June 2012
Fuztastic Fennel
...and a handsome fellow he is too...
So, it's only in recent history that I've discovered how much I like fennel. The first time I cooked it was an absolute disaster. To this day I still have no idea if it was hideously undercooked or a bad specimen. I had had such delicious fennel dishes (or usually as a side salad, often with orange) that I persisted with trial and error.
I now know it is delicious both raw (snap off some of the smaller inner pieces as a pretty and delicious fingerfood addition to an antipasto plate; or shave/slice thinly and dress for a fast and delicious salad) or roasted. You can eat all the parts - the fluffy leafies can be used as a very similar replacement for dill; the stalks and bulbs are crunchalicious and the seeds are (as Simon on The Cook and The Chef reminds us) the cause of the distinctive Italian pork and fennel sausages.
After lots of trial and error, my preferred method for roasting is as follows:

Roasted Fennel / Warm Fennel Salad
Line a large roasting pan with baking paper; and spray some olive oil on. Preheat oven.
Wash two large fennel bulbs (usually sold with about 3 inches of stalks and leaves poking out in a very mohawky style). Tear off the fluffy leaves and place into the roasting pan. Slice off the stalks from the bulb, slice off and discard top dried out portion, then slice stalks thinly and chuck into roasting pan. Cut the bulbs in half and slice very thinly. Try not to nibble on ALL the inner "petals" as chef's privileges whilst doing so, I challenge you! Place slices into roasting pan.
Drain (and -optional- cut in half) a small jar (or half a large jar) of pitted kalamata olives.
Mix fennel, a splash or spray of olive oil and a splash of white wine (or if you're detoxing water will do).
Cut a whole dwarf meyer lemon (or if you don't grow these on your balcony, half a regular lemon) in half lengthways, squeeze juice over contents of roasting pan then very very exquisitely (but don't cut yourself - lemon juice! ouchie!) thinly slice the lemon rind/flesh and put into the roasting pan on top (so people can opt to pick it off if they can't hack it).
Basically I tailor this to whatever else is in the oven. For al dente - if you want a quick cook go for 200° and 30-45 minutes (consider adding aluminium foil cover to prevent burning; if doing a roast or bake at 180° at the same time it will take you 45-75 minutes; slow roasting meat as well at 160°, will take approx 90 minutes - just keep checking back and taste for consistency, and mix occasionally to avoid too many top burnt bits.
Serve as a side dish or a large salad. Goes particularly well with the roast chicken a la Mediterranean that I have previously described.
To be honest, I hadn't blogged sooner about this mainstay of my vegie repertoire because it all seemed too simple. However, the simple things in life are often the most delicious. The other day I had heaps of this dish leftover, and a huge bag of Imperial mandarins - all good things to take advantage of in winter - and I had an epiphany - reheat this dish and top with thin (half a centimetre) slices of mandarin and hey presto - heaven is a place on earth in winter! Enjoy!
So, it's only in recent history that I've discovered how much I like fennel. The first time I cooked it was an absolute disaster. To this day I still have no idea if it was hideously undercooked or a bad specimen. I had had such delicious fennel dishes (or usually as a side salad, often with orange) that I persisted with trial and error.
I now know it is delicious both raw (snap off some of the smaller inner pieces as a pretty and delicious fingerfood addition to an antipasto plate; or shave/slice thinly and dress for a fast and delicious salad) or roasted. You can eat all the parts - the fluffy leafies can be used as a very similar replacement for dill; the stalks and bulbs are crunchalicious and the seeds are (as Simon on The Cook and The Chef reminds us) the cause of the distinctive Italian pork and fennel sausages.
After lots of trial and error, my preferred method for roasting is as follows:
Roasted Fennel / Warm Fennel Salad
Line a large roasting pan with baking paper; and spray some olive oil on. Preheat oven.
Wash two large fennel bulbs (usually sold with about 3 inches of stalks and leaves poking out in a very mohawky style). Tear off the fluffy leaves and place into the roasting pan. Slice off the stalks from the bulb, slice off and discard top dried out portion, then slice stalks thinly and chuck into roasting pan. Cut the bulbs in half and slice very thinly. Try not to nibble on ALL the inner "petals" as chef's privileges whilst doing so, I challenge you! Place slices into roasting pan.
Drain (and -optional- cut in half) a small jar (or half a large jar) of pitted kalamata olives.
Mix fennel, a splash or spray of olive oil and a splash of white wine (or if you're detoxing water will do).
Cut a whole dwarf meyer lemon (or if you don't grow these on your balcony, half a regular lemon) in half lengthways, squeeze juice over contents of roasting pan then very very exquisitely (but don't cut yourself - lemon juice! ouchie!) thinly slice the lemon rind/flesh and put into the roasting pan on top (so people can opt to pick it off if they can't hack it).
Basically I tailor this to whatever else is in the oven. For al dente - if you want a quick cook go for 200° and 30-45 minutes (consider adding aluminium foil cover to prevent burning; if doing a roast or bake at 180° at the same time it will take you 45-75 minutes; slow roasting meat as well at 160°, will take approx 90 minutes - just keep checking back and taste for consistency, and mix occasionally to avoid too many top burnt bits.
Serve as a side dish or a large salad. Goes particularly well with the roast chicken a la Mediterranean that I have previously described.
To be honest, I hadn't blogged sooner about this mainstay of my vegie repertoire because it all seemed too simple. However, the simple things in life are often the most delicious. The other day I had heaps of this dish leftover, and a huge bag of Imperial mandarins - all good things to take advantage of in winter - and I had an epiphany - reheat this dish and top with thin (half a centimetre) slices of mandarin and hey presto - heaven is a place on earth in winter! Enjoy!
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