Blame it on Paul Prudhomme.
The famed New Orleans chef — one of the early celebrity chefs — rubbed a few redfish filets in dry spices, slapped them on a red hot cast iron skillet and started a national craze.
Vaguely Creole, somewhat Cajun and not quite Caribbean, blackened redfish somehow managed to both straddle cultures where it didn’t exist while defining in American minds their flavors and culinary techniques.
The very essence of fusion, the dish became justifiably popular. Yet in their haste to add blackened anything to menus of the 1970s and ‘80s, less exacting chefs around the country made a mess of things.
American diners became accustomed to searing spice rubs that obliterated other flavors, acrid scorch marks that lumped on meat like charcoal, proteins mutilated by too much time on extreme heat. Powerful, overwhelming spices and deeply charred food became typical.
Prudhomme, however, treated the ingredients with care. He managed fiery spice and the dark crust with such dexterity the fish held its own.
Such is the case with chef Matthew Metcalf’s blackened rainbow trout, a new item on the Greenview Restaurant menu.
The Cajun-inspired spice blend surges forward, bayonets fixed. But the advance falters as earthier flavors rise. The blackened crust settles into a marvelous melee — chile, garlic, pepper and other secret spices contending for control without success.
That leaves the trout free to show off its delicate yet wild savor. The meat flecks easily, the texture is plush and hints of rushing waters lend a mellow aspect.
It’s a great piece of fish. The genius of the dish, however, is in Metcalf’s decision to support the trout with a foundation of succotash.
Yes, as in “sufferin’ succotash.” Few would remember the Native American and New England staple but for Sylvester’s constant frustration.
The melange of grilled corn and — in this case — southwestern black beans complements the fish with surprising finesse. The toasted sweetness of the corn cushions the spice rub’s chile heat. The rustic earthiness of the beans brings out the trout’s carnal streak.
It’s as if fish from western streams, a Narragansett favorite, Louisiana heat and beans more familiar to Tex-Mex kitchens were meant for each other.
Fusion at its finest.
Cooling slivers of avocado and an herbal crema complete Metcalf’s achievement. The blackened rainbow trout at Greenview in Hidden Valley Lake would have made Paul Prudhomme proud.
