whole striped bass roasted with herbs, lemon, vegetables, and garlic

The guy at the fish counter wasn't too keen on English, especially the too-fast, tripping-over-my-own-tongue type I speak. (Little sis speaks this way too; we understand each other perfectly. No one else does. We speak especially poorly if we're speaking to each other, or even if we're just in the same room).

So the fish guy and I played charades. I pointed at the striped bass (USA farm-raised) and held up two fingers. He pulled two shiny, fat, silver fish out of the ice, pointed at each--"Good?"--and I nodded.

Before I go on, I need to paint you a picture here, because it's lovely. Walk through the automatic doors with me, past a wall of rice cookers, and giant crates of giant bags of rice, down the aisles with the red bean mochi, Vietnamese fish sauce and Chinese oyster sauce, bok choi and fresh lychee berries, plucked whole ducks, and little tubs of Ben and Jerry's next to the frozen unagi.

(I love my town).

Half the back wall of this supermarket is sea food. A waist-high counter spans the length, full of buckets of ice topped with big, beautiful whole fish, pink, blue, silver; tiny thin smelt, oblong mudfish, massive salmon. Trout swims open-mouthed in big tanks, next to live lobsters. There are buckets of oysters, mussels, crawling red crayfish, snapping blue-ish crabs.

So that's where I am, pointing at a fish and trying to communicate that I want them cleaned, de-scaled and beheaded. He makes chopping motions; I nod, shake my head, and gesture, too. "No head, no scales. I want the tail."

Warning: description of blood and gore following. Fish blood and gore, but if it bothers you, skip a paragraph.

Then he takes it back to his workspace and hacks away with a circular scale-remover. Tiny, shiny silver scales go flying every which way. He takes out a cleaver, looks at me, mimes chopping off the head. I nod. He mimes chopping off the tail. I shake my head. He hacks of the head, slices out the gills and guts it. Then he washes all the blood and guts and fish heads off the back into a waste groove, wraps up my fish, and hands them to me.


Spikes are not good eats. Cut 'em off with a pair of nice big kitchen shears.

This recipe is based loosely on one of Alton Brown's, except I changed the herbs, and added vegetables and garlic. The mound of greenery is supposed to protect the fish from the hot hot oven, while gently infusing it with flavor.

Farmed striped bass is a delicious and sustainable fish. Take one home today.

Herb-roasted Striped Bass
2 whole striped bass

2 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 med turnip, peeled and chopped small
1 med yellow onion, peeled and sliced into thin rounds
1 bunch of asparagus, chopped into 2-inch lengths
1 head garlic, peeled and each clove halved
1 bunch each Vietnamese basil, dill, parsley
1/2 bunch cilantro
1/2 C sliced almonds

1 lemon, sliced into rounds
4 Tb olive oil

Have the bass de-scaled, beheaded, and gutted. Cut off all the nasty spiky fins, unless you like driving needles into you tongue. I don't.

Set oven to 500 degrees.



In a large roasting pan, make a layer of half the vegetables, herbs, almonds, and garlic cloves. Add 2 Tb olive oil and lay out half of the lemon rounds on top. Lay the fish on top of the lemon rounds.



Place the remaining lemon on top of the fish, then cover with the rest of the veggies and greenery. Douse in olive oil. Ideally, you should not be able to see any of the silver of the fish.



Cover the pan tightly in aluminum foil. In some ways, think about this as if we're steaming this fish.

Cook in the 500 degree oven for 30-45 minutes, or until your fish is 120 degrees on the inside.



Bones are cool.

You'll have to take out the major bones of the fish. First, just sort of brush off the skin on top. It should pull off easily. Then flake off one layer of meat. Now you can see the spine. Grab the tail and pull the spine out.

Serve with some white rice. The fish is tender, moist and fall-apart flaky.