Jordan and I have broken one of the unwritten commandments of entertaining: Thou shalt not take someone else’s signature dish for your own…unless you are pretty sure you can get away with it!

            The moment we walked into, the second “course” of our annual New Year’s Eve walkabout, we were lured into the kitchen by a tantalizing aroma. Kirsten, like a sorcerer, was stirring a mixture of mussels and clams in a rich, red sauce, the obvious source of this magic incense. We caught her foolishly trying to pour out some of the “excess” sauce to prevent it spilling onto the cook top.  I nipped that idea in the bud as I deftly grabbed the bowl out of her hand. There was no way this stuff was going down any drain.

            Although both Jordan and I initially thought this amazing seafood stew must be bouillabaisse, Kirsten very matter-of-factly told us it was cioppino (chu-PEE-noh) It was a mixture of shrimp, scallops, halibut, clams and mussels swimming in a tomato-based soup seasoned with garlic and fresh herbs. Could life possibly get any finer: a glass of red wine, a chunk of fresh bread, and a large bowl of cioppino.

            Just as I would not expect to turn up at a potluck with a platter of my phyllo savouries, only to find that someone else who knew full well that I always made them had the audacity to bring the same, I also would never show up at any neighbourhood “do” with my own version of Gerry’s yummy curried cream cheese with mango chutney and red pepper jelly appetizer. I have scruples.

            Jordan and I almost made it through January, but when the prospect of a dinner party at our home loomed, we knew that we would have to make cioppino We knew it could be risky; some of the same people would be attending. But you know how it is when you get a taste in your mind and it just won’t go away.

            Initially, we assumed that cioppino was merely an Italian version of French bouillabaisse, a suggestion that would have Larousse rolling in his grave. Thumbing through some of our Italian cookbooks, we could find “Zuppa di Pesce,” and “Ciuppi,” but no “Cioppino.” It was finally in a book by Umberto Menghi, an Italian immigrant who is well-known in the B.C. restaurant business, that we found our recipe and the reason we wouldn’t find it in an Italian cookbook: cioppino is a New World invention.

            Cioppino originated in San Francisco, a speciality of the Italian immigrants working and living near the fishing wharfs. The name is probably a variation on ciuppin, a Ligurian fisherman’s stew, although true ciuppin is finished by passing the cooked ingredients through a food mill. I’m assuming they would remove the shelled fish first. The stew, with shelled fish returned, is then ladled over a piece of toasted bread. Both fish stews, as with all fisherman stews, take advantage of the fresh catch available daily, as well as vegetables and herbs available in local markets and backyard gardens. Every fishing region, even village, will have its specific recipe for this type of stew, often not reproducible in any other location.

            The traditional San Francisco cioppino consists of Dungeness crab, clams, shrimp, scallops and white fish in a sauce of tomato seasoned with garlic, onion, oregano, parsley, red pepper,  good olive oil, and red or white wine. It was also traditionally served over a piece of toasted, stale bread. Crab was always available in San Francisco, which would give it a unique flavour. Mussels are added when one of the other ingredients might not be available. But even with all the ingredients exactly duplicated, you could never reproduce absolutely the stew as it would smell and taste in the dockside restaurants of San Francisco. It probably comes down to the smell of the sea air combined with the cacophony of wharf sounds, the clanging of the street cars, and true San Francisco sourdough that combine in some alchemical way to create pure gold.

            Our cioppino was going to be even further from the wharf. There seemed to be a dearth of fresh seafood that weekend on the island but Jordan remained nonplussed, a trait he has honed to a razor sharp edge in his many years in the restaurant biz. He managed to create a delicious stew using fresh squid, fresh red snapper and frozen shrimp. The recipe we were following also contained anchovy and Worcestershire sauce which, if you have never tried these in a spaghetti sauce, you are sorely missing the boat. He also added broccoli, which made this truly a Gabriola regional variation of cioppino. It was wonderful.

            While I was searching for a cioppino recipe, I did some reading on fisherman stews, of which chowders are also included, and I could see the close similarity with bouillabaisse. According to Larousse, a true bouillabaisse will be seasoned with fennel and saffron and contain leeks, but never shell fish. In fact, to be really picky, it can only be a true bouillabaisse if it contains a specific rockfish found in a very specific area along the French Mediterranean coast.

            Cioppino or bouillabaisse; does it all really matter as long as it is unforgettable.