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Perch
Perch are often considered the fisherman's consolation prize, not only because they are small but because they like worms better than flies and spinners, although they may be caught just below the surface with such artificial lures, too. However, from the cook's point of view they should not be taken so lightly as ordinary panfish. Their flavor is lovely, for which we forgive them their bones. Nor are they always so small. We landed one weighing a full kilo-21/% pounds in the German lake of Ammersee, and the giant perch, or zander, reaches 6 pounds in North German rivers, where it is highly prized for its firm white flesh. Perch grow larger in our own South than in the North, and are a favorite fresh water fish in the rich gourmet market of New Orleans, where they are always broiled, or poached in lightly seasoned court bouillon-never fried.
It is a German custom to rip off skin and scales together, but the meat is so delicate that the Louisiana way of merely cutting a small letter S on the back with a sharp knife, is better. Even this breaking of the skin must be followed by wrapping the fish with twine before poaching. Great care must be taken in lifting the fish onto the platter, either from grill or pan. Melted butter is poured over them then, and lemon slices and parsley are the classic garnish.
This is a method rather than a measured recipe: score, tie, poach or broil gently, and dress with butter. The instructions that matter are the ones about keeping the fish whole.
- The hinge: handle it oncePerch flesh is fine-grained and falls apart the moment it is lifted twice. Poach on a plate or in a length of cheesecloth, or grill in a hinged fish basket, so the fish travels to the platter in one movement.
- The S-cut and the twineThe shallow S scored along the back keeps the skin from splitting and curling as it tightens in the heat. Because that cut breaks the skin, a turn or two of kitchen twine around the body holds the fish together in the poaching liquid. Cut the twine away on the platter.
- Court bouillon"Lightly seasoned" here means water with a splash of white wine or vinegar, a sliced onion, a bay leaf, a few peppercorns and salt, simmered 15 minutes before the fish goes in. It should be barely trembling, never boiling, or the flesh shreds.
- Poaching timeA whole perch of 8-12 oz is done in 6-8 minutes at a bare simmer; a 2 lb fish takes 12-15. The flesh should just release from the backbone at the thickest point.
- BroilingUnder a hot broiler, 4 inches from the element, allow about 4-5 minutes a side for a small whole fish, brushing with butter. Over coals, use a well-oiled basket and the same timing over a medium fire.
- Zander is not a giant perchThe German Zander is pike-perch (Sander lucioperca), a relative rather than an outsized yellow perch. It runs much heavier than 6 lb in places and its firm flesh tolerates rougher handling than true perch.
- SkinningThe German trick of pulling skin and scales off together works on a firm-fleshed fish; on a small perch it tears the meat. Scale from tail to head with the back of a knife instead, or leave the scaled skin on and lift it away after cooking.
- The bonesPerch are bony for their size: spiny fins, a fine frame and pin bones along the fillet. Serving whole, cooked on the bone, and letting each eater lift the fillets off the backbone at the table is the practical answer; filleting a small perch raw gives back very little meat.
- YieldThe recipe gives no quantities. As a guide, allow two small perch, or one fish of about 1 lb, per person, with melted butter poured over to taste.
Perch has often been a fish caught close to home -- taken from lakes and slow rivers by casual anglers rather than bought at a market -- and cookbooks frequently treat it as filler among the panfish. European kitchens took it more seriously, and still do: the pike-perch of North German and Central European rivers is a restaurant fish, sold as Zander or, in Hungary, fogas. The Ammersee in Bavaria appears here only as the lake where the writer landed an unusually large perch. New Orleans is the American exception the writer reaches for, a city whose cooking absorbed enough French practice to poach a freshwater fish in court bouillon and dress it with butter instead of dropping it in a skillet of cornmeal. The insistence that perch is "never fried" there is a cook's preference stated as local law, though the reasoning behind it is consistent: delicate white flesh gains little from a crust, and gentle poaching or broiling with butter and lemon is the more French treatment.