Bouillabaisse Soup — Frey Vineyards

***Bouillabaisse soup bowl with Frey Biodynamic Sauvignon Blanc***

This bouillabaisse soup recipe comes from our graphic designer, Nicole. She made this batch of soup with sablefish from the Wine of the Month Dinner at her home in January. Read on to her about her inspiration for the dish.

“Cook Until Done”

by Nicole Paisley Martensen

I love to cook. And I love to feed people. But when friends ask for a recipe for something that I served them, I'm often at a loss. "Well, it had a little of this, a little of that, a splash of that other thing…" Trying to recreate a particular dish I've prepared conjures images of The Swedish Chef from The Muppets throwing random ingredients around the kitchen with aplomb. A knob of ginger, a scraping of garlic, a handful of chives. It doesn't help that I'm Scandinavian.

I tend not to use exactitudes in my cooking. I'm often guided by the ingredients that are fresh in my vegetable garden or in the fridge produce drawer from last week's farmers' market. Most likely, the amorphous recipe includes "a splash of wine," which can measure anywhere between a glug to half a bottle.

My first experiences in the kitchen were with my Grandma Raarah. Raarah had what she called "a repertoire." Gleaned from a combination of Time-Life cookbooks of international foods from the 1950s, Bon Appetit magazine, and old standards from her Scottish grandmother, Raarah's repertoire usually involved some kind of slow simmering in wine or finishing touch of flambéing in the pan with a final dousing of brandy. The latter usually resulted in a slew of expletives but a fantastically caramelized and Michelin-star-worthy presentation. The repertoire recipes with wine always included a glass of the remains served with dinner, watered down for me, but with still enough bouquet to cultivate an appreciation for how the flavors were echoed in the dish.

These were the recipes that didn't need to be double-checked if it was 1/3 cup or 1/2 cup of flour. They didn't require a 3" x 5" card on the counter for guidance. And they didn't need to be reproduced exactly as before. They came straight off the top of the dome, lodged in Raarah's curly head, a creative expression of spices, memories, and flavors.

When Raarah died, I felt a deep loss for this ritual of observing her in the kitchen. The repertoire was suddenly finite. I clung to Beef Bourguignon, Coq Au Vin, and Bananas Foster. I had already spent years working as a server in restaurants, peering through the pass-through to watch chefs sauté, flambé, and chop mirepoix. I could recreate the techniques at home in my own kitchen, but still, I longed for the joie de vivre of cooking that Raarah exemplified. I felt like the void of her had also deflated my deep love of food. I started following recipes in rote and feeling undernourished by the blandness of the experience.

At a library book sale a few years after Raarah died, I found a small green hard-bound book called Cook Until Done by George Basset and Ruth Norman. It was published in 1962 and is a collection of recipes that comprise a repertoire. How to make a successful souffle, how to poach trout in wine, how to impress your date with chicken breasts in Champagne sauce. The recipes don't fuss over exactitudes but come more from a place of, "What have you got?" They include many variations and a wide horizon of options: "So in the icebox you have—chicken?" Granted, these are mostly recipes for the repertoire of a 1960s New York City bachelor (think Mad Men), but there is a looseness, a confidence, and a fail-safe quality to them that brought back my love of cooking.

This bouillabaisse soup recipe is part of my repertoire. It worked wonders with the sablefish, but it's tasted just as good with halibut or rock cod. There's no need to stick to the Biodynamic Sauvignon Blanc, either. The Frey Organic Pinot Grigio or the Sun & Rain Organic Chardonnay would be equally stellar. Just be sure to indulge your inner Swedish Chef and improvise.