Day 54: the anise allure

I love it when you come across a recipe, often drawn to it by a mouthwateringly-seductive picture, and find yourself wondering why on earth you never thought of it first; not that I am in the business of recording and publishing my recipes, but I often come up with various concoctions of my favourite things and write them down for safekeeping. Anyway, this is exactly how I felt when I had my first flick through the gloriously illustrated, new-book-smell-scented, freshly-printed crisp pages of Cook Eat Repeat and stumbled across Nigella’s Fennel Gratin. Initially, I flicked straight passed the page it was on, but not before it's gratiny charm etched onto my conscience; prompting me to work my back through the pages to find out just exactly what that creamy, luscious deliciousness nestled coyly and seductively in its green cast-iron casserole was.

Nigella’s Fennel Gratin

Also known as most of my favourite ingredients and flavour combos, together in one pot, baked to perfection in a hot oven; although, to be honest, I doubt I’d turn anything away if the right amount of cheese, garlic and cream were involved. My Mum even treated me to a bottle of Noily Pratt - I usually use one for about half the price (even though I know it’s not the best quality) - so I could make this dream-worthy entity with a better vermouth. Thanks for that Mum!

The biggest ‘mistake’ I might have made here was trying a spoonful of the gorgeously fennel-infused, garlicky, vermouth, cheesy cream before pouring it over the fennel because I then proceeded to take a few more spoonfuls. In fear of finishing the lot, and then probably feeling worse for wear afterwards, I quickly poured it over the softened fennel and hurried it into the oven.

My goal by the end of this cookalong is to capture perfectly in words that look on your face when you taste something that just renders you speechless because that is exactly how this gratin went down. I served this as a side to a roast chicken and although I did do gravy - as I can’t image a roast chicken without it - it really wasn’t necessary because this beautifully-rich, creamy anise liquor in the gratin is more than sufficient. Not that I complained. I am a saucy person.

Flavour musings

I adore fennel. To be fair I share this passion for all things on the anise flavour spectrum. My usage of fennel in the past has been simply roasted with salt and served as a side, or - about as adventurous as it got - tossed through spaghetti with some cream, parmesan and black pepper. On that thought, any leftovers of this gratin would be exceptional with some hot, drained spaghetti tumbled through. These leftovers, however, were enjoyed thoroughly - heated back up in the oven - with a few wedges of fresh crusty bread.

To me, all things anise have an irresistible allure: the smell alone renders me infatuated. Coalesce that with cream, cheese, garlic and alcohol and you have yourself a most potent love potion - the enchantment of which, I’d be unable to resist. It’s the anise allure.

So, it doesn’t matter that I didn’t come up with this concoction at home on my own. What matters is that I now have this recipe for life and cannot wait to share it throughout my social circle, when we’re finally granted the freedom to gather with friends and family. I’m contemplating adding anchovies, too. Would this work? Only one way to find out….