Fennel Seed

On Halloween I’d pour my pillowcase full of assorted treats onto the floor and sort them into piles. There was a pile for chips, a pile for chocolate bars, a pile for rockets (which are apparently called Smarties in the US?), a single toothbrush and then a mound of the inedible candies like those “chewy” caramels, anything that didn’t come in a wrapper (poison! LSD!) and Goodies. Goodies, to me, are the most god awful candy creation ever devised by man. In case you are unfamiliar with this confection, as I suspect we may only unleash such things on Canadian children, goodies are a candy-coated licorice flavored candy. To me, there’s something about it that’s akin to making chocolate covered brussel sprouts. That is, if there is a proper way to introduce licorice to a child, this is definitely not it.

It was during this time in my life, when my palette was particularly vulnerable to such a viscous onslaught, that I developed a pronounced hatred for the flavor of licorice and all things licorice flavored. Red licorice however was always a favorite of mine, being used from everything from snack to makeshift straw. Red licorice is flavored with cherry and/or strawberry and is really not licorice at all though, sort of like how white chocolate is a pale impostor of actual chocolate.

In my teenager years, where I first started fostering a passion for food and cooking, is when I discovered fennel. It was at an Italian restaurant as part of a bouquet of vegetables. It was not then that I fostered a passion for fennel though, I actually despised the mild anise-like flavor. It was like eating a bad Halloween memory in a celery bulb. To its benefit though, it looked pleasant enough, sort of like a large pale green oiled artichoke heart. A few years after, a few friends and I tried to make homemade absinthe with a recipe we found on the Internet, soaking a mixture of some health food store items to replace the wormwood, anise and fennel seed in vodka for about a week. The result was more pleasant than the actual absinthe I’ve had the opportunity to try since, sort of like an aged oak sambuca or something.

No, I truly began to appreciate the taste of fennel after watching an episode of that series where Jamie Oliver tours about Italy getting ridiculed by Italians. One of the dishes he made (that the Italians even liked!) was basically nothing more than a huge chunk of pig rubbed with olive oil, salt, pepper and fennel seeds and roasted over an open flame. To me, that looked and sounded delicious too, so I tried something similar in my oven. I was very pleased with the result. Pork and fennel has since become one of my favorite combinations. The flavor of crispy roasted salty pork fat with fennel seeds is truly a pleasure. Ground pork with some fennel seed, herbs and crushed red pepper flakes makes an excellent base for anything from meatballs to tortellini stuffing. Fennel and pork are, as Jamie Oliver would say, best mates.

You see, sometimes you just have to see something a different way to understand it or to gain a whole new appreciation for it. If you’ve ever eaten and enjoyed an Italian sausage, chances are you’ve liked the flavor of fennel. I don’t eat Italian sausage and think, “Mmm, licorice!” it just adds a whole new flavor profile to pork. Italian sausage doesn’t (or shouldn’t) taste just like salt, pepper and garlic. There’s more going on there, and that something more is fennel.

I never really buy fennel bulbs and I have no fennel recipes. For some reason it’s usually fairly pricey, which is strange to me since it’s considered a weed in many places for how quickly it propagates. In contrast, fennel seeds are potent and cheap, so I always have a bunch in my kitchen. The seeds release so much flavorful oils when bashed or heated, which is why they’re so great with roasted meats. That and they can take the heat of a 450 degree oven for a prolonged period of time. Here are two recipes that I think are a great showcase of fennel seed. Just substitute ground pork in the first recipe and add a beaten egg for pasta filling, and breadcrumbs for meatballs. You might want to reduce the recipe too, unless you’re making pasta for the whole village.