Fennel and Cheerios Have More In Common Than You Think
Shaved Fennel Salad with Dill, Pecorino, Lemon, and Caramelized Raisins
The way I feel about fennel is the way that most people feel about their underwear. I can’t live without it, and I feel nervous when it’s in short supply. Trusty bulb of fennel, with its stalks + seeds + fronds + pollen and all: My Favorite Vegetable*.
I’m struggling with exactly how to write this newsletter, though. I started to expound my obsession in my last NOODLE, and today’s installment was meant to be a deeper dive. But how does one explain why something is a “favorite”-- like, THE favorite, not A favorite– without sounding saccharine?
As I began writing, my loving words about fennel were crossing over to the other side of the trite tracks. “Fennel is vegetal but sweet, complex but also simple, aromatic and versatile, spanning savory to pastry, and when cooked in just the right way, can transform into a caramelized, roasty wedge that melts like butter in the mouth.” Eh. Adjectives, adjectives, nouns, nouns. Who cares? Sometimes a sentiment is just… vibrational.
I had some agida that my waxing fennel musings would likely hit you in the same way that my morning dream recaps tend to hit my sister. She’s just not that interested. And that’s because my rando Tuesday night dream (that is, in this analogy, my relationship with fennel) isn’t her lived experience.
THE OL’ RESPONSIBILITY SHIRK
And so, rather than get lost in a labyrinth of circumlocutory words, I asked a James Beard award-winning chef to pepper these paragraphs with a recipe that celebrates dynamism of fennel. And lucky us, she accepted:
Chef legend Michelle Bernstein, wildly critical in shaping Miami’s dining scene, DOES THE THING– lives and cooks and eats and feeds and entrepreneurs with gusto and mastery. And I am totally honored to feature her as NOODLE’s first guest.
We discovered that we share the same favorite vegetable while working on a Celebrity Cruise ship together, floating in Bermudian waters (though coulda fooled us, stationed in the windowless galley kitchens). She was hosting a traveling PBS cooking show; I was her culinary producer, caught under her sparkly, skillful spell and enchanted by her command of the kitchen.
Because we connected over fennel of all vegetables, the synchronicity felt extra special. What are the chances?! Realize that a bulb of fennel isn’t a Lebron. It’s more of a Dennis Rodman: you either love it or you hate it, the poor polarizing vegetable. In short, most people don’t consider fennel to be the league MVP (and certainly not one to sit across from Kim Jong Un).
CHEERIOS: DON’T MESS WITH A GOOD THING
There’s something sophisticated about a chef who steps aside and lets an ingredient do its thing. No bell, no whistle. Maybe a drizzle. Restraint, NOODLERS! It’s a learned skill. Michelle’s recipe is a perfect example of this credo.
THE CLIFFSNOTES
In its simplicity, this recipe gives fennel wings. All components sing: fennel, pecorino, dill, lemon zest + juice, olive oil, salt. And golden raisins, emerging a more mature version of themselves when caramelized in a skillet and burnished by their natural sugars.
Toss, toss, and onto a plate. And with consecutive stabs into the center, slice after transparent slice shimmies onto tines, just as a structurally sound forkful of crepe cake would.
IN MICHELLE’S WORDS:
“When I was about 8, Mom used to shave fennel. And when I say shave, there were no Japanese mandolines available back then. She used her knife, cut the bulbs about ¼-inch to ⅓-inch thick and needless to say... I hated it. I don't love liquorice (which fennel when cut thick and eaten raw can really taste like), but when I began working in professional kitchens, I learned how to truly shave vegetables as thin as paper. I realized everything began tasting differently and that I should've given Mom’s salad more attention and understanding.”
She continues, “when vegetables and crunchier fruits are sliced very thin they crunch differently in your teeth and totally change the flavor. My cooks laugh at me and call fennel my ‘crutch.’ They say I can’t write a menu without it and I think they are probably right. I caramelize fennel for fish dishes, puree it for touches of creaminess on everything, braise it for veal steaks and combine it with shellfish dishes like my bouillabaisse.
This salad is the first fennel recipe that made me fall in love and keeps me coming back for more.”
*Fine, I have two favorite vegetables
Didn’t get enough of my friend-in-fennel, Chef Michelle Bernstein? For all she’s getting into, check out her Website and Instagram. But most of all, revel in fennel and dive into the below.
Shaved Fennel Salad with Dill, Pecorino, Lemon, and Caramelized Raisins
Serves 2-4
This recipe comes to us from James Beard award-winning chef Michelle Bernstein. She knows that the best things are the most simple, and this salad showcases precisely that. If you can, source oversized golden raisins, often found in Middle Eastern grocers. Trader Joe’s has a jumbo raisin medley that works super well, too.
If you don’t have one already, here’s your excuse to purchase a mandoline. I like the handheld Kyocera brands, which run about $20.
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Juice and finely grated zest of 1 large lemon
Kosher salt
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
⅓ cup golden raisins
2 medium fennel bulbs, plus any fronds, for serving
¼ cup (lightly packed) roughly chopped dill, plus additional, for serving
1 ½ ounces Pecorino Romano cheese, grated on the small holes of a box grater (about ½ cup, lightly packed)
1. Combine the extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, and zest in a small bowl. Add ½ teaspoon salt, whisk to combine, and taste, adding more salt if desired. The dressing should be punchy and super seasoned. Set aside.
2. Heat the vegetable oil in a small skillet over medium heat and add the raisins, shaking the pan until they puff up and caramelize a bit, about 2 minutes. Beware, they burn quickly. Remove them from the pan immediately and set aside.
3. Trim the tops off the fennel bulbs. Reserve for stock, soup, or pickling (or discard). Using a mandoline and starting at the stalk end, slice the bulbs crosswise into paper-thin slices. Place in a large bowl.
4. Add the dill, Pecorino Romano, reserved raisins, and dressing. Toss to combine, taste, and adjust seasoning with salt. Serve, garnished with fennel fronds and additional dill, if desired.
Heckkkk yes fennel getting the attention she deserves 🤌🏻