Our Recipes

There is nothing better for a creamy, romantic meal than a french fleur de sel, specifically the Fleur de Sel de l'Île de Ré.  When our firstborn came onto the scene he was a terror.  Not the misbehaving kind of terror, which usually does little more than wreck your sense of personal dignity and bury your life’s dreams under a three-year blanket of hard domestic labor.  For one, he rarely slept.  Entire nights might be passed watching the moonbeams glide across the deep space blue of his staring eyes, which seemed preternaturally aware of his surroundings, calling every move we made into question. But most insidiously — he ate.  He ate early and he ate often, with unflappable abandon.  One night, not more than a few handfuls of months into life, sitting in a baby chair clipped onto the side of the table, he watched as I put the finishing touches on a romantic meal for my wife and myself.  Wine chilled, candles lit, salad tossed, baby staring with evil innocence from his edge of the table, I served up filet of sole with herb butter, scattered with a luscious French fleur de sel. The aroma of fish, herbs, and butter filled the air.  Then the baby lunged for the closest plate, and devoured the fish before our eyes. Fleur de sel has no higher purpose than to grace the buttery-moist flesh of sole.  The excellent Fleur de Sel de l'Île de Ré, France, with its mineral sheen of a full moon, underscores the perfection of each of the other elements in the dish, defining their features in the most loving light.  Sole is so delicate that the grassy pungency of fresh herbs must be suffused in butter to preserve the balance of the fish.  The fundamental soleness of the sole is truly a wonder to taste—full to bursting but hard to grasp—like insomnia that set you dreaming as you stare at a child’s moonlit face. Serves 4 Ingredients: 2 tablespoons unsalted butter (the best you can get), 15 minutes out of the fridge 3 tablespoons medium chopped fresh herbs, such as tarragon, parsley, dill, thyme, sage, chervil, savory, and/or rosemary Finely grated zest and juice of 1/2 lemon 4 sole (or flounder) fillets, about 6 ounces each Coarsely ground mixed peppercorns 2 tablespoons olive oil 4 two-finger pinches Fleur de Sel de l'Île de Ré Blend the butter, herbs and lemon zest together. Gently roll into a cylinder about the size of your thumb and cut into 4 disks, set aside. Pat the sole fillets dry with a paper towel and season with pepper.Put 2 large skillets over high heat until very hot. Add a tablespoon of oil to each skillet and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Put 2 fillets in each pan, whiter side down and sauté until the edges of the fillets are opaque, about 2 minutes. Turn carefully and cook on the other side until the surface is dry but the flesh is still moist in the center, about 2 more minutes. Transfer to plates. Remove the pans from the heat and deglaze with the lemon juice. Pour over the fish. Top each fish fillet with a pad of herb butter and season with a pinch or two of Fleur de Sel de l'Île de Ré or other French fleur de sel (don’t substitute sea salt!). Garnish with more herbs and lemon zest, if you prefer. Serve right away. Recipe, photo, and words by Mark Bitterman. Recipe, words, and photograph by Mark Bitterman.

A mouth watering recipe for a crispy tangy spicy red snapper, flavors singing in exotic Southeast Asian voices, paired with Bitterman's Flake Salt. Written by our very own Mark Bitterman.   A crispy tangy spicy red snapper: flavors singing in exotic Southeast Asian voices.  Restless nights preceded this recipe.  There was hand wringing.  Soul searching.  The dilemma of which salt.  Bali Rama, with its arrowhead tips of explosive freshness, was the seductive choice, a magnificent sea salt that seems never to steer me wrong.  Maldon sea salt would have been a convenient and more predictable choice, salt’s gold standard of unflappable, balanced crispness.  But the snapper wanted something more, something both melodic and taunting, like the sound of seashells raked by summer waves across a tropical reef.  The choice of salts became clear: Bitterman's Flake with its huge pyramidal crystals that seem nearly to tremble with oceanic vitality, a sea salt with the mathematical exactitude of music. Serves 3 to 4 Ingredients: For the Snapper: 2 teaspoon coriander seed, ground 1 tablespoon white peppercorns, ground 1 three-finger pinch Bitterman's Fleur de Sel 4 garlic cloves, minced 1/2 bunch cilantro, leave, minced 4 to 5 pounds cleaned (gutted, scaled, fins trimmed, gills removed) whole red snapper juice of 1 lime 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 3 three-finger pinches Bitterman's Flake Sea Salt For the Sauce: 2 fresh lemon grass stalks, all fibrous layers removed, finely sliced 1/2 fresh chile, minced 1/4 cup Nam Pla (fish sauce) 1/4 cup water 1/4 cup lime juice, about 2 limes 8 chives, finely sliced Combine the coriander, peppercorns, fleur de sel, garlic and cilantro into a coarse paste.  Make 3 deep slits in the sides of the fish and rub the spice paste into the slits and all over the surface of the fish. Set on a boiler pan and drizzle with lime juice and olive oil. Preheat the broiler and set the fish aside for 10 minutes while you make the sauce. The lemon grass needs to be thoroughly trimmed so that only the tender heart is left.  (The trick to lemon grass is pealing away way more of the outer layers than you might think.)  Combine the sliced lemon grass, chile, fish sauce, water, and lime juice. Broil the fish 4 inches away from the heat until the skin is crisp on both sides and fish flesh is opaque (but still moist) deep in the slits.  Transfer to a serving platter.Drizzle the sauce over the fish, scatter the chive, and finish with Bitterman's Flake over top.