Cradock - Aniseed, star anise, liquorice, fennel. That’s a peculiar flavour and it comes from a variety of sources – liquorice from a root, others from seeds, leaves and stems of other plants.
There’s a common thread of flavour from disparate things yet what you taste is instantly identifiable as the same, within degrees and given the inevitable nuances you find in all ingredients.
Fennel, with its willows of delicate fronds, grows profusely yet wilts in the face of heat, like an Eighties wallflower, all big hair and shying away in the corner hoping that none of the big boys will ask her to dance. Yet its bulb is a curvaceous thing, the type of plant base which, if it were a woman, would be Jennifer Lopez, squeezed into a tight white body-clinging dress and not shy to pose for the camera. That, with Dolly Parton’s hair, is one confused cultural image. Not least given those endless stems which bring to mind more Cyd Charisse than Helena Bonham-Carter.
But pluck a fennel bulb while it’s young, with only tufts of the fronds that promise a future Dolly Parton or Bonnie Tyler and you have an ingredient that can make a simple starter in its own right, braised and served with something creamily cheesy.
And fennel seeds? The same, but different, a sharp, crunchy culinary soundbite that is best if you first toast it in a pan to release the flavours or let it pop away in ghee (clarified butter) with others seeds at the beginning of a curry. Fennel seeds are plumper than the scrawny cumin seed and a pretty pale green. Use them with tiny mustard seeds that dance in the pan when they pop – and they’re the backing singers, the doo-wop girls ever- hugging the tailskirts of the superstar Tyler or Parton.
As for star anise, its name suggests that it is special, a thing apart and that it expects to take centre stage. Yet in the kitchen star anise can be as ubiquitous as salt and pepper if you want it to be. I use it in almost everything, almost as much as I use garlic. Pop one or three of the star-shaped pods in any stew for a subtle hint of sparky something that most of the time you would be ill-placed to define. It just gives a little pop to a dish and despite its perky punch of heat, its aniseed flavour as such is not as pronounced as you might think. That’s what makes it such a potentially ubiquitous item in the kitchen.
Star anise, perhaps, is the break-out star of the aniseed doo-wop backup band. The Kim Carnes of the mix, writing lots of songs (for other artists to record and make hits of) and doing back-up vocals as a session singer (on recordings that others would make hits of). And who, one day, hit on the idea of a song and thought, durn, I’m a-gonna sing this one for myself. And thank you for that, Kim Carnes. Bette Davis Eyes remains a standout today and has not aged one day since it was recorded in 1981.
Liquorice itself seems somehow to be the flagship of the fleet, perhaps because when children it’s likely to be our first experience of that distinctive flavour hit. Liquorice is the cheeky kid in class, the one always first with his hand up and a pithy rejoinder to teacher, the one who is always making the class laugh, and the one most likely one day to turn into a Trevor Noah or an Alan Committie or an Amy Schumer.
But it’s not liquorice as such that we’re cooking with this week, although all this gaating aan about it has made me want to go out to buy some. It’s fennel itself, the baby bulbs with their slim stems, and the masses of feathery fronds. I used fennel as the main flavouring this week of a dish of prawns and calamari steaks, which I cooked two ways.
Calamari steak strips
Serves 2
350g calamari steaks
1 clove garlic, chopped
Lemon juice
Olive oil
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
Shrimps with fennel and mushrooms
200g shrimps
2 baby fennel per portion, split lengthways and then chopped
1 punnet medium button mushrooms, quartered
Butter
50ml dry white wine
100ml cream
Fennel fronds, finely chopped and more for garnish
Salt and pepper to taste
For the calamari steak strips, clean the calamari steaks under running cold water, dry with paper towel. Using a very sharp chef’s knife, carefully score one side of the steaks in a diamond pattern. Don’t press too hard or it will cut right through. Cut the steaks into strips about 2cm wide. Heat olive oil in a pan and add chopped garlic. Fry gently for a minute, add calamari strips a few at a time till browned, turning. Season. Squeeze lemon juice over. Be careful not to overcook as they toughen and reduce in size. Drizzle with lemon juice, toss a couple of times in the pan and remove.
For the shrimps with baby fennel and mushrooms, saute chopped fennel in butter. Add quartered mushrooms and cook, stirring, until lightly browned. Add dry white wine and cook to reduce. Add cream and chopped fennel fronds and simmer to reduce to a sauce that coats the back of a spoon. Add shrimps, cook for a minute or two; season to taste with salt and pepper.
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