Triglie alla Livornese

Livorno is not a pretty city. It was bombed heavily in the war and rebuilt without sentiment. But its cooks never forgot how to handle fish. The port has fed Tuscany's coast for centuries, and this dish is what happens when fishermen come home hungry and their wives have tomatoes ripening on the windowsill.

The fish must be fried first, separately, until the skin turns golden and crisp. Then, and only then, does it meet the sauce. Americans want to dump everything in a pan together and call it cooking. This is why their fish turns to mush. The sequence matters. The technique matters. What you keep out of the sauce (cream, butter, excessive garlic) matters as much as what you put in.

Red mullet are small fish with delicate flesh and assertive flavor. They can stand up to tomato and garlic in a way that more timid fish cannot. If you cannot find true red mullet, small whole snapper or porgy will serve, though the flavor will be different. Do not substitute fillets. The bones give body to the dish, and eating whole fish forces you to slow down and pay attention. This is how Italians eat.