Grilled fillet of Sea Bass with Sauce Antiboise
You make sauce vierge (virgin sauce) with virgin olive oil, basil, garlic, tomatoes and perhaps some anchovies. Antiboise sauce, ostensibly from the Antibes, uses cilantro instead of basil.
Ingredients
- 4 sea bass filets (or halibut, snapper, cod)
- 1/2 lemon, grated zest only
- 1/2 orange, grated zest only
- ½ cup extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for drizzling
- 2 shallots, very finely diced
- 2 clovew garlic, crushed
- 1 cup coriander leaves, chopped
- 2 large plum tomatoes,chopped
- 2 T capers, chopped (optional)
- black pepper
- lemon juice, to taste
- Arugula and watercress leaves
Instructions
- Place the sea bass fillets in a large, shallow dish with the lemon and orange zest ¼ cup olive oil for 1 hour in the refrigerator.
- Place the remaining olive oil in a heavy-based frying pan.
- Add in the shallot and garlic and fry very gently until translucent.
- Add the coriander leaves and cook gently a minute or two.
- Add the tomatoes and warm gently, then add the capers. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper and the lemon juice.
- Preheat a grill until very hot.
- Remove the sea bass from the marinade and cook on the hot griddle, skin-side down, for 3 minutes, then turn and cook for 3 minutes on the remaining side.
- Spoon the tomato mixture onto four serving plates. Top each serving with a griddled sea bass fillet, then top with a few cress and arugula leaves. Drizzle with a little olive oil and serve at once.
Notes
It was pouring, and we were hungry. There was a café near our bed and breakfast, Inn Old Amsterdam, in the Nieumarkt district, but we wanted something warm and filling and, you know, Dutch.
The owners of Inn Old Amsterdam sent us to de Struisvogel, a cab ride away. From the moment we walked down a quick flight of stairs into the small, subterranean space, I knew it was going to be a good night. The small place was packed. The signs, the menus, the clientele were all Dutch, Dutch, Dutch. Bottles of jenever and beer and wine studded the tables. It was Bruegel with Polo, and without the threatening undertones.
It had, instantly, all the attributes I want in a restaurant: just like eating at home, but much better.
de Struisvogel means “the ostrich,” and there is ostrich on the menu. I don’t know why. The men and women sitting next to us, a loud and friendly table of World War II vets and their wives who gather every year for a reunion (“until there are none of us left”) directed us to the fish.. and the jenever.
The menu is small, and prix fixe. But you can choose from a fish, beef or, of course, ostrich. There are Dutch dishes, like lamb stew, roasted potatoes, local blue cheeses, but plenty of Italian influence: risotto, carpaccio, etc.
The family that runs the place is just welcoming. Everybody is drinking, every body is speaking over everybody else, the temperature inside stays warm as rain pounds away outside. When it’s time to go, after a superior apple crumble, you’ll feel like you’re leaving home.
