Licorice ferns are interesting edibles. More and more restaurants are using them to infuse sauces, make teas, or serve candied. The anise-like flavor is apparent when the root is nibbled raw, but in a sauce I find it much more subtle, with a touch of a licorice sensation on the tongue and a hint of sweetness. In general I’d say licorice ferns are more of a novelty, a way to add an exotic touch to a meal.
This dish is adapted from a lunch I had at Etta’s Kitchen not too long ago, except that Etta’s used lingcod and some preserved lemon, and the licorice fern is my addition. It’s an easy yet elegant preparation, comfort all the way. The root medley, especially the parsnip and fennel, adds sweetness to echo the licorice fern in the sauce.
Beurre Blanc is a sauce every home cook should know. It’s a simple way to gussy up a basic meal of fish or vegetables, and it’s great for fancier occasions. You can make a butter extravaganza if you like, but I really prefer it a little less creamy.
Cut the root vegetables into 1-inch cubes. I used a parsnip, a turnip, two large carrots, a couple small potatoes, a fennel bulb, and maybe a third of a celery root to make the medley, which I slathered with olive oil and cooked at 350 degrees until tender, about 40 minutes. The root vegetables got plated, bathed in sauce, and topped with a broiled fillet of fish. A pat of truffle butter closed the deal.
The sauce here is a modified Beurre Blanc without the usual butter assault. As mentioned, I like this sauce slightly brothy, though no one would ever call it thin.
1 four-inch licorice fern root, peeled & chopped
1 heaping tbsp shallot, finely diced
1/4 cup champagne (or white wine) vinegar
1/4 cup white wine
1/2 cup stock, divided (chicken, vegetable, lobster)
1 stick cold butter, cut into 8 – 10 sections
2 tsp lemon juice
salt & white pepper
1. Combine chopped fern root, shallots, vinegar, and wine in small saucepan over medium heat. Reduce to 2 tablespoons.
2. Add half the stock and reduce to a few tablespoons. Add remainder of stock and reduce again.
3. Turn heat to low and start adding cold butter one section at a time, whisking frequently. Add another piece when the previous one has melted into the sauce. Don’t overheat or sauce will break. You can adjust the consistency by adding more butter or stock. For this dish I prefer it soupy. Finish the sauce with a splash of lemon juice off heat, whisk again, and strain.
Serves 4 modest portions.
hey I didn’t know the ferns that grows out of moss on our trees had a name! (duh). I have lots of photos just like those from many hikes. Will have to go get some halibut and try this one.
What’s the deal…some of these rhizomes are awfully bitter and some are not. Is it purely seasonal, or are there other factors at play.
Your blog makes me swoon, can’t wait to eventually, finally take one of your classes.
I didn’t know you could cook with licorice fern. How fun! Thanks for sharing.
Donata & Kate – Sorry for the delay in posting your comments. I’ve just switched over to moderated comments because of all the spam I was getting and didn’t realize I wouldn’t be notified by Blogger of pending comments. Hmm…seems like an obvious fix. Hello, Blogger?
Greg – you’ve hit on one of the main problems with our West Coast fiddleheads (and possibly the rhizomes as well, though I don’t have as much experience with that part of the fern). Our native western lady fern fiddleheads can vary widely in taste, with some quite bitter and others not. If you find a less bitter patch, stick to it! I’ve talked to commercial foragers about this phenomenon and so far haven’t gotten a satisfying answer. The only thing I can say is to experiment with different locales.
Wow–licorice fern roots are STRONG. I love licorice, so I thought I’d try a root while out foraging last week. I think cooking with the root and not chewing it like the natives did might be the better idea… Thanks for all of the good info here!