There really is something called the Sardine Diet, which I discovered while having coffee and sitting around googling “sardines” with Steve Johnson, the chef and owner of Rendezvous in Central Square, Cambridge.
I had arranged a visit to talk about the delicious fresh Rendezvous sardines – pilchards actually -, which I’d ordered after listening to the Barton Seaver “eat from the middle of the diving board” lesson:
The front of the diving board is phytoplankton.
The next section is filter feeders – mussels and such.
The next section is small to medium fish like mackerel, bass, pilchers, sardines.
The far end is big fish like swordfish and tuna.
When you jump hard on the far end of the diving board everything on the board goes flying. Jump in the middle and the board just jiggles a lot, but nothing falls off.
By the way, after a little more googling I discovered it’s also possible to eat from the front of the diving board – all out of Krill Oil? – http://krilloil.com/index2.html.
Full of omega 3’s, protein, calcium, vitamin D, and phosphorus, a species able to keep the diving board steady, sardines are also low on the food chain, and so less likely to be contaminated with mercury. As the Sardine Diet claims, the Clupiedae family should be encouraged.
Canning sardines was invented in Brittany in the mid-19th century, and Brittany is still France’s sardine capital. Like anything French, there’s rigamoral around their sardines. La Queberonnaise milleseme (vintage!) sardines, from the Brittany port of Queberon, are considered – what else? – “la foie gras de la mer.” The French sardine police make certain these fish are harvested only from May to June when their fat content is ideal. They’re packed in iron cans, not aluminum, which are marked “limited edition.” And, just like a good wine, the cans go into a cool, dry place and are turned occasionally for the next months, as it takes a year for the oil to properly penetrate the little fish body. After two years of aging they are more delicate and refined, finally worthy of the Savenierres to be poured with it.
But it wouldn’t be bad for the oceans and for our omega 3 levels if we borrowed a little sardine extremism from the French.
Steve’s serving them two ways right now: broiled fresh pilchards (larger sardines) in a salad with hard-cooked eggs, butterball potatoes and an anchovy vinaigrette and fresh pilchards grilled on a wood fire so they get all crisp and brown, their fat drizzles away, and then dressed upon a salsa verde with anchovy and parsley. The latter is the sardine dish I had the night I wandered in after Barton Seaver’s talk. Steve hadn’t even heard the plank lecture, but my friends and I could feel all diving-board friendly ordering fresh skate and sardines from his menu.
Sipping his cappuccino on just one more rainy Cambridge day, Steve told me the inspiration for his fresh sardine courses came from a really great can of sardines which he took on vacation to Costa Rica, and from which he invented some delicious meals for his friends. After my coffee with Steve, I went to Formaggio Kitchen and stocked up on the reported brand, Cole’s.
This afternoon I made an arugula salad, sprayed with thin red onion slices and chopped scallions, a couple of slices of pear, three plump Cole’s sardines, all drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. My lunch guest swooned. The salad had just the right balance of fat to spicy greens, sweet balsamic and pear to spring onion bite. I haven’t had “la foie gras de la mer,” but the unctuous Cole’s could convert the sardine non-believers.
Steve Johnson is quietly one of my favorite chefs. He rides his bike to the restaurant everyday. He raises a fair share of the restaurant’s herbs and produce in boxes up on the roof, which he farms himself, and irrigates with leaking air-conditioner water. (The cardboard boxes wick the water up into the soil.) What he doesn’t grow himself he picks up at the Cambridge Farmer’s Market. He’s not shouting about all this from the mountaintops. He’s at his restaurant almost every night; I usually catch him finally sitting down at the end of the bar, tucking into the Rendezvous roast chicken and a glass of wine about 10:00 at night, chatting to a customer dining at the bar beside him, waving to departing clients. I mentioned the restaurant to another devotee recently, and they said, “I was at Rendezvous last week, and Steve wasn’t there! That’s never happened before!”
Steve’s been quietly cooking from the local, sustainable column for years. Committed to the North Atlantic fishing seasons, the Rendezvous fish menu operates from this calendar:
Spring: halibut, smelts, mackerel, tautog, lobster, scallops, oysters, mussels, clams, squid, shrimp
Summer: striped bass, bluefish, lobster, octopus, squid, haddock, blue crab, clam, fluke, mussels
Fall: bluefish, swordfish, mackerel, fluke, lobster, oysters, mussels, smelts, sardines
Winter: skate, cod, squid, oysters, mussels, bay scallops, lobster, Maine shrimp, Maine crab
Ok, these pilchards are from Portugal, because Steve says he’s tasted a lot of them, and he likes these best. And since eating sardines of any sort seems to represent virtue, the gastronomical version of driving a Prius, it maybe doesn’t matter where they come from. (Where is my Prius made?)
Steve Johnson is the real deal, walking the walk, riding the bike. His vacation home is a houseboat on the Westport River. When he started blogging about cooking on the houseboat, The New York Times came running; Steve and Boat were that week’s food section centerfold. Top Chef is for wannabees; Steve is doing a houseboat cooking demonstration at Formaggio Kitchen June 9th.
Here are the two recipes from Rendezvous. As mentioned, the anchovy vinaigrette attends a salad of broiled Portuguese sardines with hard-cooked egg, butterball potatoes, mixed bittergreens (escarole, frisée, spinach) and shaved French breakfast radishes. Steve says the fresh sardines can be baked in the oven ahead of time, cooled down and then the meat carefully picked from the bones and skin. If you can’t find fresh sardines, I’m guessing Cole’s sardines could stand-in nicely.
The Salsa Verde is background for the grilled sardines, which are drizzled with olive oil, salt and pepper and cooked on a medium fire for three minutes a side. Although sardines are the point, I see grilled trout with this pungent spring sauce, too.
Lastly, Barton Seaver’s new book For Cod and Country, Simple Delicious Sustainable Cooking is available now.
Rendezvous Anchovy Vinaigrette
2T capers, rinsed and dried
6 anchovy fillets
2 cloves garlic
5 sliced shallots
1T fresh thyme leaf
1t fennel seed
1/2t red pepper flakes
1C lemon juice
2C extra-virgin olive oil
1C canola oil
salt and pepper
Mince together the capers, anchovy and garlic. Put them into a bowl with the shallots, thyme leaf, fennel seed, red pepper flakes and vinegar. Whisk in the olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and adjust the balance of flavors with some extra lemon juice if necessary.
Rendezvous Salsa Verde
(makes about 3 cups)
1 onion, peeled and diced
8 anchovy fillets, chopped
2T salted capers, rinsed drained + patted dry
6C flat leaf parsley, washed and drained (add spinach or mint if desired)
1/2C lemon juice
1C extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt and ground black pepper
Put all of the ingredients in the food processor and purée until smooth. In order to achieve the right consistency, you might want to add a few drops of water. Season to taste with the salt and pepper.
Notes; red wine vinegar can be used instead of lemon juice, or blended with it. A large pinch of smoked paprika or maras pepper can be added to the sauce for a little kick.
