This Classic Cantonese Dish Turns Whole Fish Into an Easy, Impressive Dinner

Fish is fresh and plentiful here in Seattle, and my family and I eat a lot of it at home. But the common complaints — it’s difficult to cook well (especially when distracted by an active household), it’s messy to handle, it can leave the house smelling for days — all ring true, even for someone who has cooked professionally for years. Steaming fish, as in the classic Cantonese dish 清蒸鱼, whole steamed fish, neatly solves these problems.

Recipe: Cantonese-Style Steamed Fish

When I was growing up, it would show up at celebratory meals at a Chinese friend’s house, or my grandfather would order it at one of the many Cantonese seafood restaurants in New York. It always reminded me of the sakana no nitsuke, Japanese simmered fish, my grandmother would eat. It’s an ideal dish for people who are still on the fence about fish (kids and grown-ups alike), and particularly whole fish. But it wasn’t until I started cooking for guests in my own home, and started a family with two children, that I’ve come to know its true value: The effort-to-reward ratio is off the charts. Its centerpiece-worthy appearance and subtle aroma and flavors belie the fact that it’s one of the fastest, easiest ways I know to cook fish.

I start by washing and lightly seasoning a whole fish (typically trout, sole or branzino) with salt, stuff it with ginger and scallions (and cilantro, if my cilantro-hating daughter is not around), then steam it gently on a bed of the same. This not only perfumes the fish, but it lifts it off the bottom of the plate and keeps its cavity open, ensuring that it will also cook rapidly and evenly. Rather than intensifying fishy aromas the way pan-frying or grilling can, steaming brings out a more delicate sweetness, a flavor complemented by the ginger and scallions. Properly steamed fish also gets an incredibly luxurious texture, unachievable by harsher methods.

Once the fish is steamed, you could transfer it to a fancy serving platter, but I typically serve it on the plate I steamed it on. I finish it gently with a mixture of soy sauce, rice wine and sugar diluted with warm water, and dramatically with a tableside splash of hot oil. It sputters and sizzles its way down a tangled bird’s nest of fresh aromatics on the fish, wafting their scent around the table.