A Quick Cioppino (With Apologies to SF’s Tadich Grill)... Revisited
Summer is upon us and there's nothing I enjoy more than a fresh, seafood stew out on the deck with either a chilled Prosecco or a Rosé...
The first time I enjoyed cioppino, an Italian-American seafood stew, was in 1985 when San Francisco was still somewhat affordable, DARPA hoarded access to what was to become the Internet, and the Tadich Grill, home of this amazing meal, was still a “cash only” restaurant in the Financial District serving The City’s old money brahman class.
The man I was seeing at the time, the late Dr. Ernest J. Cioffi, formerly the dean of continuing studies for the University of Southern California, ran a program out of the School of Continuing Education called “Taming the S.A.T.” a prep class for kids who really wanted to ace the country’s standardized testing used to place kids in colleges and universities.
The “Taming the S.A.T.” program was usually held on weekends, either on the USC campus or on the campuses of junior colleges and smaller schools throughout California.
Ernie hired local instructors to give the classes but preferred to go himself to the campuses to set up the forum and help with the registration. It also allowed him to visit places like San Francisco, Santa Barbara, and San Diego on the university’s dime.
Often, I would take a vacation day from work and we would drive up to San Francisco for a long weekend. It was on the first trip that Ernie introduced me to the Tadich Grill, gin martinis, and cioppino.
From that time on, the Tadich Grill became a tradition for Ernie and I; even after I moved to San Francisco to go to school when he would visit, we would always make the effort to dine there.
As traditions go, it’s one I try to keep every time I am in the City by the Bay. Thanks, Ernie, rest in peace.
I’ve revised this version of the recipe to highlight some alternative ingredients.
Ingredients
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
½ small white or yellow onion finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
1 regular-size carrot finely chopped
1 rib celery finely chopped
½ large fennel bulb, finely chopped
(If you can't find fresh fennel, substitute one teaspoon of fennel seeds)
2 tablespoons tomato puree/paste
1 cup white wine (dry)
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 cup vegetable or seafood stock (or water)
1 teaspoon dried chili flakes
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon dried thyme
A handful of fresh basil, chopped
A handful of fresh parsley, chopped
Sea or kosher salt
Crushed black pepper
8 ounces firm white fish (monkfish or cod)
8 ounces shrimp, peeled, veined, and headless
1 pound of small clams and/or 1 pound mussels washed and sorted
6 to 8 large sea scallops
(Optional, 6 to 8 small new potatoes, halved)
After you’ve prepped your veggies, herbs, seafood, break out the Dutch oven or favorite soup pot and put it on a medium burner on your stovetop.
Sauté the garlic and chili flakes in olive oil and butter. Season with salt and crushed black pepper to taste.
You just want to sweat the garlic until it becomes glistening and fragrant.
Once the garlic is simmering, then add the mirepoix and, if you have it, the fresh chopped fennel bulb — and continue the sautéing process.
It’s here where I add the fresh basil, dried thyme, oregano, and bay leaf. If you don’t have the fennel bulb, here is where I add the teaspoon of fennel seeds.
I’ve seen the recipe with dried basil, but I find using fresh just is so much more fragrant and flavorful.
As the mirepoix renders down and releases the moisture from the carrots, onions, and celery, stir in two to three tablespoons of tomato puree.
Cook the veggie, herb, and puree mixture until well integrated. Once the puree starts to form a fond on the bottom of the pan, then add your cup of white wine. I went with a Pinot Grigio, but any dry, citrusy white wine would be grand.
You want to simmer the broth until all the alcohol burns away, then add the can of diced tomatoes and the fish or veggie stock or water.
I won’t lie, go with the seafood stock as the first option if you can, it just adds levels of umami flavor to this stew that is unbeatable. If unavailable, then go with vegetable stock as your second choice, chicken, third; water, if your back is to the wall.
You’re going to let this broth simmer on low heat for at least an hour before adding the optional potatoes.
Now, potatoes are just a personal preference for me; if you have enough seafood, and some lovely crusty croutons or toasted slices of a baguette, this stew is more than enough.
However, cioppino was created as a cheap fisherman’s lunch back in the day and, like a lot of local recipes, I’m sure the vegetables—and the seafood selection—changed day-to-day, if not week-to-week.
I like how the new, waxy potatoes give off enough starch to lightly thicken the broth, as well as offer an al dente contrast to the various seafood.
You do you.
If you’ve added potatoes, then let the broth simmer for another 20 or 30 minutes until the spuds can be pierced with a fork, but don’t fall apart.
Now, you’re ready to add your seafood.
I’ve enjoyed this with both mussels and clams, or mussels OR clams. Since you’re the master of your own kitchen, any variation is up to you, but definitely include chunks of a firm white fish, scallops, and shrimp.
The stew will be generating heat by this time, so add the seafood based on cooking time; chunks of fish in first, they take the longest, about three to four minutes, followed by the shrimp and scallops.
After the shrimp and scallops have been given a minute, then fold in the clams and/or mussels, put the lid on the pot, and raise the temperature to a rolling boil.
Here’s a cioppino with clams, shrimp, cod, and scallops:
And here’s a cioppino with clams, mussels, monkfish, and shrimp:
Be attentive, you don’t want to over boil the fish, but you want to make sure the bivalves all cook and open and release their liquor into the broth.
Once all the clams/mussels have opened, I throw in the handful of fresh chopped parsley to finish the cioppino proper.
Ladle into bowls and serve with a loaf of nice crusty bread or croutons; a wonderful, warming fresh broth for either a cool Fall or a warm Summer evening.
hmmmm perfect