Veg to Table: Fennel
I tend to associate fennel with the summer months, when I regularly shave it into salads with rocket, slices of orange, black olives, basil and heaps of olive oil. In reality, however, its real moment in the limelight comes when autumn starts to creep in — at which point the bulbs are much bigger, and their anise flavour has mellowed into a gently herbal taste.
Of course, I can understand why any vague threats of liquorice might alarm some people — not least because they alarm me, too, thanks to too many shots of sambuca as a teenager. But I genuinely don’t feel the aniseed notes here are comparable at all, as not all fennel is created equal: in the same way that chillies vary in heat, many vegetables can differ in intensity, and, crucially, can be tempered as required.
If you’re worried about too harsh a taste, go for a larger bulb with a milder flavour; smaller, younger fennel often has a much stronger anise flavour, I’ve found. Beyond that, another trick you can try is to braise or roast the fennel, which tends to give a much gentler taste than when eaten raw. Finally, if you are going for it raw, you can always balance the bitterness by pairing it with sweeter ingredients like orange or figs.
As for me, I really do enjoy fennel in all its forms — in fact, such is my passion for the stuff, that my boyfriend once bought me a large ornamental fennel with no purpose other than to look ridiculous in my bedroom. It is now one of my favourite possessions.
Fennel, Shallot, Chestnut and Sherry Gratin
I almost always eat fennel raw, but on this particular day I needed some seasonal warmth — having had to bust out my knackered old faux fur coat for the first time this side of summer. Stuff at work had also left me feeling about as valued as a slug on a cabbage patch, meaning I found myself turning to the comfort of two of my most beloved ingredients, reaching not only for the impressively large fennel I’d bought earlier in the week from McCalls’ Organics, but also for a bottle of sherry.
The result hit the mark in more ways than I expected, somehow going far beyond the vanity of being an amalgamation of my favourite things. I found that the sweetness of the sherry balanced out the bitter fennel, while the crème fraiche brought it together with tang and the walnuts gave crunch, in turn creating what has proven to be one of my favourite meals this year — and a reason to (reluctantly) start embracing the change in seasons.
Serves 2 (or 4 as a side)
1 bulb fennel
3 large or 6 small shallots
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp thyme
2 bay leaves
2 cloves garlic
50ml medium sherry like Palo Cortado or Oloroso (alternatively, use marsala, vermouth or even white wine, adding a little honey if required for sweetness)
150ml stock (I used chicken)
150g cooked chestnuts
2 tbsp crème fraiche
Handful of parsley, chopped
Salt and pepper
Walnut crust:
50g walnuts
100g breadcrumbs (I usually just take a slice of bread out of the freezer and bash into crumbs in a pestle and mortar)
50g parmesan (optional)
Handful of parsley, chopped
Pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
Start by halving the fennel bulb lengthways, and then slicing each half into thirds, keeping the core intact to create thick wedges. Slice the shallots in half lengthways.
Add a knob of butter to a pan and fry the fennel and shallot (cut side down) in batches to brown them, before laying into a baking dish. When everything has been fried off, crush the fennel seeds in a pestle and mortar and add into the dish with the thyme and bay leaves. Bash the two cloves of garlic with the flat of a knife and add these in as well.
Pour in the sherry and stir everything together, before pouring in 100ml of the stock — reserving the rest for later in case things need loosening.
Bake in the oven for 45–50 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft and most of the liquid has disappeared.
While the vegetables are cooking, bash up the walnuts in the pestle and mortar. Add them into a bowl with the breadcrumbs, parmesan and parsley, stirring to combine and setting aside.
When the vegetables are cooked, stir the chestnuts, crème fraiche and parsley directly into the baking dish and give it a taste — if it needs a little more salt, add some in with the pepper, but remember it’s already packed with stock so may only need the latter. If the mixture is looking a little dry, pour in some of the reserved stock, a little at a time, to achieve the desired texture (I ended up using half of what was left, but you may need less or more).
Top with the breadcrumb mixture and pop back into the oven for 15–20 minutes, or until nice and golden on top.
Fennel and Orange Salad
A salad that’s on strong rotation in my life, thanks to its vibrancy in both colour and taste. The orange helps cut through the bitterness of the fennel, meaning it’s often a winner with even the biggest fennel-phobes I’ve encountered.
I usually peel a large orange and either cut into slices or segment it, before layering it up with thinly sliced fennel, fresh basil or parsley and rocket, before dressing everything with olive oil and red wine vinegar — sometimes throwing in some black olives and toasted pine nuts, too. You can also try out Jamie Oliver’s recipe below, which adds fresh mint and almonds.
Pasta con le Sarde
Hailing from Sicily, this is technically a sardine dish, but one where fennel is also a key component. Many traditional recipes call for wild fennel, which tastes a little stronger and acts more like a herb, but the crunchy bulb can still be used as a solid replacement — as can its fronds, as suggested below. Fresh sardines are also often used, but good quality tinned sardines work just as well.
For a more authentic approach, check out this recipe shared on Pasta Grannies’ YouTube page, which comes from 86-year-old babe Antonia.
Alternatively, for a slightly simpler version, try the Waitrose recipe below:
Crunchy Gochujang Fennel
I really love the sound of this Crunchy Gochuhang Fennel from Seoul-born chef Sohui Kim, whose recipe has been shared on the Bon Appetit website.
The fennel is quickly blanched then dressed in a spicy-sweet sauce, in turn creating a ‘simple Korean banchan’ (side dish) that can be served alongside main dishes like braised short-ribs or kimchi jjigae (kimchi stew) alongside steamed rice.
How to Use up Fennel Fronds
While some bulbs of fennel are sold without their long stalks and fronds, sometimes you’ll be lucky and the whole thing in all its glory. Here are some ideas for what you can do with the delicate, wispy fronds, which are just as valuable as the main vegetable:
- Add into a pesto instead of (or as well as) basil
- Make fennel oil
- Use as you would a herb (in salads, dressings, etc.)
- Stir into scrambled eggs
- Throw into a stock with other vegetable scraps
- Use as a garnish
- Stir through pasta con le sarde in place of bulbed fennel, as mentioned above
