Tilefish, tomato, citrus and avocado with fermented black lime

Raul De Nieve’s Ceviche with Fermented Lime

 

NOTES

Fermented limes have been boiled in salt water and dried whole, until they’re nearly petrified. The fragrant citrus limes is most often used in Iranian cuisine, either simmered in soups and rice dishes whole, or grated into a fine dust. This added an unexpected floral note to our ceviche. Mine was gift from a chef friend, but you can find dried limes in Middle Eastern markets.

When selecting fish for ceviche, look for saltwater fish, not freshwater fish. You want something firm, white and briny, not oily or “fishy.” It is also important that you treat the fish well. Keep it super cold, and use a very sharp knife for cutting. I use a fish knife, and work in long, smooth strokes to cut the pieces without tearing or “sawing” the flesh. Wetting the blade before cutting will also help.

INSTRUCTIONS

Set a fine mesh sieve over a medium mixing bowl and squeeze your limes and oranges into it, straining out unwanted pulp and seeds. Add the tomato, minced chile, onion and cilantro stems and set aside.

Slice your fillet into 2-3 long 1” wide pieces lengthwise, and continue to cut into 1” chunks. Season the fish generously with kosher salt on all sides. Add to the marinade and allow to sit for 10-15 minutes, depending on how “cooked” you like it. (I prefer mine on the raw side, since we are obviously using the highest quality fish).

While the fish marinates, cut the avocado into ¾” – 1” cubes. Add to the fish and gently mix to combine. Taste the marinade and season with salt as needed.

To serve, spoon the fish onto individual tostadas and top with cilantro and a generous glug of olive oil. Using a microplane, grate the black lime on top and serve.

RECIPE

DIFFICULTY

EASY

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SERVES

2

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PREP TIME

15 MINS

Ceviche

  • small 
    tomato, diced
  • 1/2 
    white 
    onion, diced
  • 1/2 
    medium  
    jalapeno, deseeded and minced
  • 1/4 
    cup 
    fresh cilantro, leaves picked stems minced
  • lb 
    firm white fish such as tilefish, flounder or sea bass
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    kosher salt
  • ripe 
    Hass avocado
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    high quality olive oil
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    fermented dried lime (optional)
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    tostadas for serving

INSTRUCTIONS

Set a fine mesh sieve over a medium mixing bowl and squeeze your limes and oranges into it, straining out unwanted pulp and seeds. Add the tomato, minced chile, onion and cilantro stems and set aside.

Slice your fillet into 2-3 long 1” wide pieces lengthwise, and continue to cut into 1” chunks. Season the fish generously with kosher salt on all sides. Add to the marinade and allow to sit for 10-15 minutes, depending on how “cooked” you like it. (I prefer mine on the raw side, since we are obviously using the highest quality fish).

While the fish marinates, cut the avocado into ¾” – 1” cubes. Add to the fish and gently mix to combine. Taste the marinade and season with salt as needed.

To serve, spoon the fish onto individual tostadas and top with cilantro and a generous glug of olive oil. Using a microplane, grate the black lime on top and serve.

Raul De Nieves is a special snowflake from the bedazzled heavens, a gift from a god who prizes brazen individuality, kitten heels, and parties that don’t break till dawn. He is the poster child for living one’s life to the fullest. With a smile from pigtail to pigtail, his heart is open to the slew of opportunities currently being slung his way, including a ceviche date with me in his Bushwick nightclub-cum-studio. Raul assured me, of all the crazy things that have gone down in this space, salad had never been attempted before.

I met Raul at a dinner for this year’s Whitney Biennial. His piece in the show was  arresting — what appeared to be floor-to-ceiling stained glass, was actually a collage of tissue paper and gemstones, with messages like “unity” and “peace” woven throughout. The effect was a near religious experience, and had visitors basking, slack-jawed, in its glow. Raul placed his iconic bead sculptures in front of the window piece. There was a pair of platform shoes that he had transformed into something best described as a cross between an underwater crystalline formation and flamboyant asteroid, made using little more than a hot glue gun and a pile of recycled beads. These semi-wearable shoes (Raul insists he can walk in them, but it doesn’t look easy) have been featured in Harper’s Bazaar, and shot by Karl Lagerfeld and Mario Sorenti. Raul has socialites begging for a custom pair, but the ones he made for The Whitney took three years to make, so he’s not giving them up so fast.

Raul’s studio was once a catering hall. The faded glory of patent leather upholstered walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and Greco-Roman columns made a campy backdrop to our ceviche experiment. Our “salad” is a nod to Raul’s Mexican heritage, a place he returns to once a year now that he is an adult and has his citizenship. As we assembled a perfect summer meal, he told me of how he crossed the border alone at the age of 9, simply uttering the word “McDonald’s” to the border agent and pointing to the U.S. side (apparently, that word alone is the same as “open sesame” in this country). It’s crazy to imagine all of this, as he recounts this formative experience like it’s no big deal. I can’t help but think how lucky we all are to have Raul, and to call him an American.

Raul De Nieves in His own Words

Julia Sherman: Tell me about where you grew up and how you came to this country?

Raul De Nieves: I grew up in Michoacan, Mexico with my mother and two brothers. I came to the U.S. when I was nine, and it took nine years for me to become a citizen. My mom married a Colombian man who was already a citizen and who lived in San Diego. He owned a restaurant there.

JS: What was it like to move to a new place so suddenly?

RDN: I did not even speak English. I was in school with my two brothers, one was 6, the other 11, and I was 9. My aunt flew to Mexico and picked us up, we flew to Tijuana, where we met this lady at the border. She had binders full of green cards. This was in 1993, when crossing the border was chill. It was like waiting in line to go to a club. You would only showed an ID, no scanners, nothing. I told them I was going to McDonald’s (there was a one just beyond the border). I crossed all by myself, and they let me go!

JS: They let a 9 year old boy cross the border all by himself?

RDN: Maybe the lady who helped us had an agreement with the border patrol, and the code was McDonald’s or something? After nine years, my mom’s husband, who was a citizen, applied for citizenship for us.

JS: Did you miss Mexico when you left?

RDN: Yes, I think that is why I make the work that I make. It is a way to remember where I am from, what I saw. It was a shock to come to America and live in a suburban town that was completely white. My mom had to go back and forth between three jobs. She started to work at daycare centers and then opened her own in our house. When friends come back home with me and they see how I grew up, with all these kids running around in our living room, they are shocked. To me, it’s normal.

JS: How did you end up being an artist?

RDN: I moved away as soon as high school ended. I went to community college, and I started taking art classes, but all my teachers were telling that I was wasting my time, and that my paintings were awful. Why are teachers such bitches? [laughs]

JS: Because sometimes they piss you off enough that it motivates you to break the mold.

RDN: Well, I wasn’t learning how to be a brain surgeon, I was making art, and that’s a completely personal thing. I can’t paint like Michelangelo, but I don’t want to. I want to create experiences. There is no right or wrong way to do that. I think that was the good part about learning and feeling this idea of rejection from the system.

JS: After community college, what did you do?

RDN: I went to San Francisco but could not afford the art school there, so I decided to make friends who were enrolled in the school, and crashed their classes. I would get their course materials and make my own projects based on what they learned in school. I found this image from the fable about St George and his dragon, and I painted it over and over again. Each time I painted it in a different style, each time adopting the technique of another artist. Through this process I taught myself how to evolve a single idea, using this idea of religious painting and Christian work ethic.  After that, I was ready to work in my own visual language and style, which eventually led to sculpture and installations.

JS: Did you grow up religious?

RDN: My mom is Catholic but nothing too crazy. We did go to church, but it was very chill. I still go to church all the time. Every time I see a church door open, I go inside.

JS: I love the shoe sculptures. You said some of the shoes were wearable?

R: Yes, I just started collecting shoes and building off of them. I work with cheap materials, plastic beads, paper, found objects and hot glue. Some are just these wild crystal-like sculptures, and then others, are kind of wearable [pointing at a pair].

JS: Can somebody actually walk in those?

RDN: I can! The last ones that I made for the Whitney Biennial took me three years to make. It’s ridiculous. I had never made something like that before.

JS: And where do all these beads come from?

RDN: Now I get these for free. People just give me beads.

JS: Where are you off to next?

RDN: I have a residency on an island in Greece, and then in Italy. I am doing a show in this big palace-like place, it’s crazy!

JS: What does your family think about who you have become?

RDN: They just look at me and think, ‘he is really doing it.’