
Recipe below: Baccalà Mantecato for a Winter Lockdown
I make baccalà mantecato, whipped salt cod, for Christmas Eve every year, except not this past year. Family troubles and Covid prevented it. I scaled my fish extravaganza down to one fine dish of calamari stuffed with Swiss chard. It was good, but it didn’t provide the crazy, expansive table that I love on that magical night, with clam and mussel and lobster shells all over the place, and lots of candles. It was just the two of us, and we ate too early. Christmas Eve is supposed to be a late-night affair, but we were bored and restless. Is the lockdown turning you into my old Uncle Pat, yelling for dinner at 4:30, with the poodle and the parakeet at the same seating? Damn, I hope not. My sister and I made fun of him constantly, with his 5 o’clock after-dinner snoring and farting, his wild, gray mafia eyebrows twitching, the poodle on his lap.
Whatever you’ve got going now in terms of dinner arrangements, you will find that cooking something beautiful helps. This salt cod dish has a lot of romance going for it. It’s served at bars in Venice, as little cicchetti, or snacks, with a glass of wine, at the dividing line between work and family. Happy hour.
Baccalà mantecato is often offered at room temperature in Venice. Nice, but I’ve come to prefer it hot and gratinéed with a crusty top of breadcrumbs and Parmigiano or Grana Padano. That’s my recipe here. Have your guests spoon it onto toasted crostini, or let them scoop it up with thick slices of raw fennel. A bowl of olives and a glass of white wine or prosecco are pretty much mandatory accompaniments.

Baccalà Mantecato for a Winter Lockdown
(Serves 4 to 6 as an appetizer)
1 pound salt cod (look for the fat middle section, which has less bones and skin)
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 fresh bay leaf
A big splash of dry vermouth
1 large baking potato, baked until tender, skinned, and roughly mashed
½ cup of milk
¼ cup heavy cream
2 small garlic cloves, thinly sliced
A few big gratings of nutmeg
The grated zest from 1 lemon
5 or 6 large thyme sprigs, the leaves lightly chopped
Black pepper
Piment d’espellete
A small chunk of Grana Padano cheese, grated (you’ll want about ½ cup)
½ cup panko breadcrumbs
You’ll need to soak your salt cod in a big pot of cold water, changing the water several times. In my experience, you usually need two days of soaking to remove enough salt, but after a day taste a piece from the center to see where you’re at. Once the fish is sufficiently desalted, put it in a big pan, drizzle it with a little olive oil, add the bay leaf and the vermouth, and then cover it with cool water. Bring it to a boil, and then turn the heat down to a simmer, and let it gently poach, just until the cod can easily be pulled apart with a knife, usually about 5 to 6 minutes, depending on its thickness.
Take the cod from the pan, and pull it into small pieces, discarding any skin or bones. Drop the pieces into the bowl of a food processor. You can get rid of the poaching liquid.
Add the potato, milk, cream, garlic, nutmeg, lemon zest, thyme, a little black pepper, and a touch of espelette. Pulse quickly a few times to break everything up. Drizzle in about ¼ cup of good olive oil, and pulse a few more times, just until you have a relatively smooth consistency. I like to leave a little texture.
Oil a baking dish, and spoon in the baccalà. You can stick it in the fridge for a day or two before serving, if you like.
When you’re ready to serve it, preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Mix the panko with the grana Padano and a little olive oil. Sprinkle it evenly over the top of the baccalà, and stick the baccalà in the oven until it’s hot and bubbly and lightly browned, about 20 minutes.
Brandade de Morue is an all time favourite. Looking forward to trying this version.Beautiful salt cod is getting harder and harder to find, even here in Canada.
Helen, Yes and it’s gotten oddly expensive