My friend Marta came over for dinner last week. We had decided on grilling fish, which we hoped would be fresh bluefish caught by Jim and his dad. Well, Jim and his dad went kayaking, so Jim returned home a little later than planned.
Fortunately, I had prepared for this eventuality by going to the store and getting some fish. Now, you should know that the thing I like least about my new job is that Grand Central Market is no longer across the street from my office. In it I had my fish monger, my butcher, my cheese store, my specialty shop (foie gras, truffles and the like -- uh, not that I've ever bought a real live truffle), and more. I miss it terribly.
In fact, the nearest good food store to my office now is Whole Foods, clear across Central Park. After my experience tonight, though, I'm beginning to think that's not such a bad option - except, perhaps, when it's 15 degrees out.
Instead of heading west, I headed east in my quest for fish tonight. I was actually aiming for Katagiri, on 59th between 2nd and 3rd. Except I thought it was on 58th, so I walked down past the array of Indian restaurants on 58th, very confused. At that point I was running out of time, so I just went to the Food Emporium underneath the Queensboro Bridge at 1st Ave. Well, I'm sorry, but Food Emporium is kind of like the kid dressing up in its mother's clothes. It's a generic grocery store that doesn't quite pull off being a gourmet market.
I went through the vegetable section to the back of the store, to the fish counter. The butcher and fish counters were clearly wrapping up for the evening - it was shortly after 7pm. I had been planning on buying a couple of branzini for stuffing with my favourite combination this summer - rub with olive oil and salt, and stuff the deboned cavity with ultra thin slices of red onion and lemon, and sprigs of thyme. I looked at the sections of fillets, mixed seafood and wet scallops with a sinking heart. I didn't see a single whole fish in the entire display case. As I stood there with my head down, a young guy came over behind the counter and said, "how can I help you?" I said, "do you sell any whole fish?" He looked puzzled (bad sign). He came out from behind the counter, looked at what I was looking at, and said, "what do you mean?" I paused. "Uh, like, the whole fish - you know, with the head and tail, not just a fillet." I mean, how else do you describe a whole fish? "Oh." He looked uncertain. After entirely too long a pause, he said, "we have red snapper." "Whole?" I asked. "The entire fish?" "Yes." "How much is it?" He punches into the scale. Punches some more. "$18.99." Uh, no. That's a fillet price, not a whole fish price. Still, I'm curious. "Can I see one?" "Sure." He goes into the back, and brings out a fish with ice particles still on it. It's fresh - the eye is clear, and not sunken. It looks firm. "How much does it weigh?" He puts it on the scale. Just over 2 pounds - over $38. Wow, that's too much for a fish. But what are my options? I waver. "Ok, I'll get it." He puts the fish back on the scale, prints out the price label. "Wait!" I say. "That's not right, to charge me the same price for the whole fish that you would for the fillet." He doesn't seem to understand. A fillet, I'm paying for your work and not for the bones and so forth. "Ok, I can give it to you for $15.99," he says after thinking a bit. I think a bit, too. "I've never paid that for a whole red snapper," I say, and I explain to him further the difference." "ok," he finally says, "what would you pay then?" We finally settle on $12/lb. It's still a little high, but I'm just happy that I've brought him down $7/lb.
So I get the fish home. I unwrap it. I peer inside. No guts - but just about everything else. I've never deboned a fish, and Jim's not here. I've given instructions to him about butterflying a fish from what I've read on the internet, but I've never done it myself. I peer inside again - I see a small dark thing that looks awfully like a heart. Marta arrives. I tackle the fish. I remove various small discreet bits from the cavity. I hack off the tail. I try to cut off the head after talking to Jim and discovering that the main cut should be behind the pectoral fins. I cut off more bits from the inside. I finally figure out how to cut off the head, except the last bit I think is going to be bone isn't, and the head flies out of my hand and onto (fortunately) the counter. The backbone and ribs are still in the body. I have to get them out. I don't know how I do it, but I somehow get the backbone out, but not all the ribs. We'll just have to savour our food (aka eat carefully to avoid swallowing big fish bones). The inside looks all hacked up, but that's ok.
Oh, before I get the backbone out, I decide to descale the fish. I read up on it in the New Joy of Cooking, and soon fish scales are popping all over the kitchen. Somehow we manage, though, and we successfully descale the fish. I am picking fish scales out of my skin and hair for most of the night. Unfortunately, the skin turned out to taste rather fishy, and I didn't enjoy it.
I rub the hacked-up cavity with olive oil and salt, spread out ultra-thin sliced lemon and red onion, and lay down lots of fresh thyme. Next time, I'm going to put fresh thyme on both sides. It's really wonderful.
Heat the grill on high, keep it on high, rub it with oil, fish on, 8 minutes per side. It was perfect. Marvelous. Fantastic flavour (except the skin, much of which stuck to the grill anyway). Perfect with CSA salad of lettuce and grape tomatoes, and, much later, smoked bluefish.
