Erica De Mane

Red Mullets, by Claude Monet.

Recipe below: Pan-Seared Triglie with Rosemary, Fennel Pollen, and Lemon

If you’re not yet comfortable cooking a whole fish, just go out and buy one. Then you’ll be stuck with it. And if you choose something pretty and small, like triglie, it will be much less intimidating. And, anyway, I’m going to talk you through this.

You may know this fish by its French name, rouget, or as red mullet, which is what it’s called here, but whatever you call it, it’s pink and delicious. There are a few good ways to cook it. Grilling is fine, but my favorite way is a hot pan sauté in a mix of good olive oil and bubbling butter—the butter helps brown and crisp the skin and infuse the flesh with fat and flavor.

I first began eating triglie regularly at the Greek fish restaurants in Astoria that I started frequenting in the mid-1970s. I was drawn to it by its orangey-pink skin. I’d pick my fish from the ice case, and the cook would then just throw it on a gas grill. Not the best for flavor, but despite that crass treatment, I loved the fish’s firm texture and mild taste, and I became fixated on it. I’d order two rougets, or even three, if they were really small, and season them only with salt and lemon. Those lovely fish with a side of Greek fries and a few glasses of retsina made a feast night for me. They’d have a fair number of little bones to deal with, but I’ve always just crunched most of them down with a little extra wine. You can also work around them. Totally worth it.

Now when I see nice-looking triglie in the market, which is not that often, I buy it. Its flavor really comes through with this quick pan sauté.

Pan-Seared Triglie with Rosemary, Fennel Pollen, and Lemon

For two servings, get your hands on four medium-small red mullets. Scale and gut them, but leave their heads and tails on. Season them inside and out with salt, black pepper, fennel pollen (or ground fennel seed), and a little Aleppo. Stuff their insides with branches of rosemary, and slip in half-moon slices of lemon, a few slivers of garlic, and/or a scallion piece. Don’t worry if some of the stuffing looks like it’s going to fall out. It’s fine if it does, or even better, since it will just become even more flavorful when it hits the hot cooking oils.

Get out a skillet big enough to hold all the fish with a little room to spare. Put it over high heat. When it’s hot, add a generous pour of olive oil (you’ll want about ⅛ inch to coat the bottom). When that’s hot, add a few tablespoons of butter. Slip in the mullets, and let them cook without moving them around at all until you can see that they’re starting to get brown and crisp at the edges. This usually takes about 4 minutes. Now give the pan a shake to make sure the fishes move around easily, no longer sticking. Then you’ll know it’s time to flip them. Then give them a quick flip with a spatula. I guide them over by touching their uncooked sides with my fingertips so they don’t plop onto the pan, making hot oil splatter all over the place.

Scatter some extra chopped rosemary over the tops, just for extra flavor. Turn the heat down to medium, and brown the other sides, probably about another 4 minutes, depending on the size of the fish. These things cook fast. If you want to test, stick a skinny knife in along the backbone. If the flesh pulls away easily, you’re good.

Pull the red mullets from the skillet and onto serving plates. Squeeze on extra lemon juice, and eat. This time I served mine with a corn, tomato, and basil salad, and it felt right.