Blackened Fish, Mock Maque Choux

Somehow, every year, I forget that my favorite season exists until it’s here.

You’ll say that’s impossible. That there are only four seasons, and that anyone who can forget one of them probably shouldn’t be operating heavy machinery. While technically I suppose that’s true (both the four seasons and the fact that I don’t think I’ll be running a backhoe anytime soon), there are other seasons, the ones that don’t have names, but the ones that you can feel coming a mile away.

There’s that first whiff of spring, before actual warmth sets in. It’s still cold, and there might still even be snow on the ground, if you’re in New England or Canada or the Midwest. But you can smell the snow starting to melt, and you can feel a hint of sunshine in the air.

There’s that first frosty morning, before it’s truly cold, before you really need a coat, but where you hold your coffee mug a bit tighter in the morning to warm your hands, where you stay a bit longer under the warm spray of the shower before stepping out to get dressed.

And then there’s this one… the very end of summer. Not Indian summer; it’s not warm enough to be called that. But the days are still long and the sun still shines through dinnertime, and you remember that even though it’s September and much too cool to be spending days at the beach, you can lay out on the grass in a park and let the last few rays of sunshine warm you before fall is truly here. The leaves fall lazily; they’re in no rush. There are a few weeks like this, weeks where tomatoes and apples coexist in farmer’s markets. I love this time of year.

In New York, it was probably my favorite time of year, the reason that I told my grandfather many years ago that fall was my favorite season. I loved back to school shopping during long days, days where I could still wear shorts and t-shirts. Days where Italian ices were still sold on street corners. Autumn isn’t really my favorite season. Sure, I love crisp days and huge sweaters and cider doughnuts, but there’s something about this season — a season where you can go bare-legged but where a scarf — that I will always love.

The beginning of summer instills in me a constant craving for certain foods I grew up eating on Long Island: corn, tomatoes, fish. I could eat all three every day and be in a state of bliss. When I was home, just a few weeks ago, I ate a cold ear of corn from dinner the night before every morning, hunched over the counter. Actress sister saw me and laughed. I didn’t care.

Fresh corn isn’t really done here. You can get it at supermarkets, but even if I do love it, I never buy it. I know it wouldn’t be the same. But canned corn is all right in something like this, thickened with butter and cream. Though real corn, mixed with the milk scraped right off the cob, is even better.

I started making blackened fish when I was still living in Toronto. I had tried it for the first time at a bar that the English One and I found one day, as we wandered in search of food. We glanced at all the menus of our regular standby places and, finding nothing that grabbed us, kept going far after we usually stopped along Bloor.

We wound up at a place called the Victory Café, where there was outdoor seating, vegetarian mac and cheese (for him), and a blackened fish that is unfortunately no longer on the menu, though they do now have a blackened tuna sandwich. I devoured it and immediately started blackening everything from scallops to shrimp to shark, I believe, at one point. Sometimes I deglazed the pan with wine (when I was feeling fancy) or water (when I was just hungry), and tossed the leftover spices with pasta. It was an amazing food obsession, and then, like many others, it was replaced by other things.

I found a recipe for maque choux awhile back that I wanted to try, and when I saw that Kevin (who is based in Toronto, oddly enough) had paired it with blackened fish, my old standby came calling. Now this has become a regular dish chez Emiglia, with a simpler version of the maque choux (a mock choux, if you will) serving as the bed for blackened fish. I still deglaze the pan with wine when I’m feeling fancy, water when I’m just hungry (or when I’ve drunk all the wine), but I love the way that the sauce tastes mixed in with the vegetables.

I also love the way that, even though it’s a little bit fall-ish, I can eat my favorite summer staples — corn, tomatoes, fish — in a meal that’s warming enough to take the chill off when we leave the windows open for the last few moments before autumn is truly here.

Mock Maque Choux

1 tsp. olive oil
1.5 Tbsp butter, divided
1 onion, minced
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 fresh tomato, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 1/2 cups of canned corn, or 2 ears of corn (kernels removed with a knife and corn milk removed by scraping the knife along the cob, all in the same receptacle)
1 tsp. dried thyme
3 Tbsp. crème fraîche or sour cream
salt to taste

Heat the olive oil and half a tablespoon of butter in a pan over medium-high heat. When the butter stops foaming, add the onion and bell pepper with a hefty pinch of salt. Sauté until the vegetables have softened and the onion begins to brown, about 10 minutes.

Add the tomato and garlic. Stir until the garlic becomes fragrant, 1-2 minutes. Reduce the heat and add the corn. If you’re using canned corn, you can add a bit of water as well. Cover the pan and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes.

Remove about a quarter cup of the corn. Add a few tablespoons of water, and purée the corn until it’s smooth. Add it back to the pan and stir it in. Cook, uncovered (if necessary) until additional liquid has evaporated off. Remove from the heat and stir in the thyme, cream and remaining butter. Cover to keep warm.

Blackened Fish

1 1/2 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. onion powder
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. dried thyme
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes
1/4 tsp. dried oregano

2 fillets (about 8 ounces total) white fish like cod or whiting
2 tsp. olive oil
1 glass (1/2 cup) white wine
2 Tbsp. heavy cream

Combine the spices in a bowl.

Pat the fillets dry, then sprinkle one side with half of the spice mixture.

Heat the oil over high heat in a skillet. Add the fish fillets, spice side down. Coat the other side with the spice mixture. Cook about 2 minutes per side, or more if you have thicker fillets. Remove the fish to a dish and cover to keep warm.

Deglaze the pan with wine and stir, picking up the bits of spice at the bottom of the pan. Allow the wine to reduce by half. Remove from the heat and whisk in the cream.

Serve the fish fillets over a mound of maque choux. Serve the sauce on the side, or drizzle it over the final dish.