These two are definitely in contradiction. I produce plenty of certain foods in my garden: lettuce, squash, tomatoes. I get a flush of strawberries, peas and raspberries. The reason that I get a CSA stems from the fact that I get a wider range of veggies than I normally grow. This range supplements my garden, and pushes my culinary envelope. I would probably get stuck in a bigger rut, limited by what I was in the mood to plant, nurture and harvest, if I were to stick to my own garden.
Some of that is less than welcome. Take radicchio, for instance. I just can't get myself to like this in a larger quantity. A bit in my salad is ok, a whole head? Not ok. In keeping with the tradition of every grower in Western Washington, the zucchini load is a bit much. After all, I have this in my garden as well. I am eternally looking for a way to absorb a large haul of this vegetable...along with every other gardener.
Other items, however, are gratefully utilized. One such item is fennel. Fennel tends to generate a love/hate response from many folks, partly due to the fact that we don't cook it all that much in this part of the world. Then there is the licorice flavor issue. If fennel generates a love/hate response, licorice can eclipse that with it's own rapture/vitriol.
I don't tend to gravitate to licorice flavors. I have residual traumatic memories of the very strong and salty licorice that was sent from Germany when I was young. That was a complete non-starter. The stuff we have here is too sweet and lousy.
(Actually, in a fitting meeting in the middle, the licorice that is found in Iceland, my most recent vacation destination, is pretty good. I wouldn't want to go so far as to claim rapture, but not bad...)
Back to fennel. So it comes in the farm delivery, but I, too, have little cooking experience with this vegetable. Lucky for me, my CSA (Helsing Junction) tags recipes on to the weekly e-mailing that accompanies the delivery. They had a terrific one for fennel, and that is what we have here.
The bulb is what is needed, the fronds are discarded. Said bulb is then sliced thinly, sautéed in butter until caramelized and the whole mess is then deglazed with honey and sherry. Correct the seasonings with a little salt, top with chèvre, and prepare to be amazed. I even make this when I have neither lemons nor garlic. It's still delicious.
Funny thing about cooked fennel is that any licorice flavor that is present with the raw version is very muted. That is a good thing, for all those who are suspicious of the whole idea. There is only one unfortunate issue: while tasty, this recipe does not create a dish which is beautiful. Additionally, when paired with my favorite fish (black cod), it makes for a pale meal.
Caramelized Fennel with Honey, Lemon Zest and Chèvre
serves 2-3
2 fennel bulbs, fronds and bottom removed, and thinly sliced
3 T butter
2T honey
2T fino sherry
1 clove garlic ( I skipped this)
Sea salt
Lemon zest, and juice
1/4 c chèvre
Melt butter in a pan large enough to accommodate the fennel in 1 layer, more or less. When melted, lay slices in pan and sauté over medium heat. Brown well before flipping, and brown on other side.
Remove fennel from pan, and then deglaze with honey and sherry. Pour over fennel.
Press the garlic and add, with a pinch of sea salt. Sprinkle with lemon zest and a squeeze of lemon. Top with crumbled chèvre.
