There are really only two primary ingredients in a lemon-butter sauce. You’d think I could do it properly…
Mais non, with me, the easy things become hard and the “any idiot can do it” things become disasters.
I bought fish at St. Lawrence Market in Toronto at 4pm. That means everything goes on special. I bargained and asked if the fish guy would give me an extra discount on the black cod if I bought some smoked salmon. Sure, $3 off per pound. What that meant was I could afford the black cod. I bought one fillet. Just one. Enough fish for 2 people. It only cost about $8. This is still ridiculous but if you’ve had black cod you will understand. Really you don’t need a sauce for this fish. The flesh itself already tastes like butter. Just add a little salt and pepper and grill, bake, roast or broil this fish to perfection. The only thing you can even do wrong is over-cook it. It should fall apart at the touch of your fork. To me, this is heaven.
So by adding a lemon butter sauce I was probably asking for trouble. Why mess with a good thing, right? I figured adding a tiny bit of butter would enhance the natural buttery-ness, and as long as I didn’t add too much lemon, it would contrast the sweetness. I searched long and hard for a good lemon-butter sauce recipe, which is stupid because it’s so simple, but I had vermouth, see, and I wanted a sauce that would use that as well. I also didn’t want to add any cream because a little butter is all my poor lactose-intolerant belly can handle. Oh, and I had no chicken stock, the recipe had to be just lemon, butter, oil, salt, pepper, vermouth and capers (I bought some capers because those go with fish and lemon sauces, right?
I can’t even find the recipe I used but it had way too much lemon juice (1/2 a lemon’s worth I think), too many capers (my fault, I think. It only called for 1/2 a teaspoon or something way too small, so I doubled it and probably didn’t drain them very well. So it was pretty brine-y), and just a dab of butter at the end. I should have dabbed more, probably. I deglazed with a splash of vermouth, as called for, but it evaporated in about 1 second even though my temperature was at the right level. So I added another splash to create some actual liquid. Probably there should have been more to balance the lemon juice.
Worst thing was I still managed to under-cook the fish, only slightly better than over-cooking it. I wasn’t too worried about under-cooking it because of all the lemon and the anti-microbial properties thereof.
Still, it wasn’t great. It was way too lemony to taste the exquisite black cod. Less is more, Amie. Skip the sauce entirely next time and let the fish flavour shine.
Or follow a proper recipe, one that’s published…in a book…or on a blog or website I trust. No more taking chances with black cod. It is far too delicious. At least the anise flavour from the top of the fennel was subtle enough.
I roasted some fennel and tomatillos. The fennel was perfect. The tomatillos made me cry a little, they were so bitter. I missed my Quebec tomatillos. No wonder no one buys them…they’re often so disgusting…but my perfect ones from the market in Montreal…heaven.
Hits and misses, this meal. Maybe I’ll get it right next time.
Leave a Reply