When I can get my hands on a perfect bulb of fennel, its flesh smooth, white and unblemished, I like to shred it finely into slices so thin that they are almost transparent and toss them with olive oil and the juice of a lemon and its own finely chopped fronds. I usually go heavy on the black pepper, too, but use only the merest pinch of salt. It is a salad that carries just the faintest note of aniseed, but one that marries contentedly with a piece of lemon sole and is almost the perfect accompaniment for salmon.

Fennel is at its most successful when used sparingly, and with its more brutish aniseed character calmed by lemon juice, cream or yogurt. Slicing the bulb too thickly produces an unpleasantly strong note that can dominate any other ingredient. A little goes a long way. Citrus is fennel’s friend, either in a blood-orange salad with green olives or sautéed with olive oil, lemon juice and a dash of white vermouth.

The vegetable, and especially its seeds, makes a delightful ice cream, a softly liquorice-scented ice with a flavour reminiscent of childhood trips to the sweet shop. A reminder of the sound of sugar-coated balls clattering into a scale pan and the rustle as they are tipped into a pink-and-white striped paper bag. However good those aniseed balls were, the ice cream is better because of its subtlety and the fact that the more strident anise notes are subdued by cream, sugar and a spritz of lemon zest.

The spring sunshine has bought with it a fancy to make chilled soup. Emerald watercress perhaps or calming cucumber freckled with fresh mint. Instead, I slice a bulb of fennel, cook it without colour then stir through it grated cucumber and radishes, and then yogurt spiked with the bright notes of pickle liquor from a jar of cornichons. Sprightly, uplifting, a bowl of green and white with which to greet the new season.

Fennel, cucumber and mint soup

A chilled soup for a spring day. I like to include a piquant element in a mild, sweet soup such as this. A splash of pickle juice from a jar of gherkins, capers, or a spoonful of white wine vinegar will make the soup sing. Like all chilled soup, it is best served very cold, even with an ice cube or two added at the table.

Serves 4

fennel 400g

butter 75g

water 125ml

lemon juice from ½ lemon

cucumber 300g

radishes 12, plus extra to serve (optional)

pickle juice 2 tbsp (from a jar of cornichons) or white-wine vinegar

mint leaves 12, plus extra to serve (optional)

yogurt 250ml

ice cubes

Thinly slice the fennel. Melt the butter in a deep pan, add the water, lemon juice and fennel and cover with a piece of greaseproof paper or baking parchment. Cover with a lid and cook for about 20 minutes over a low to moderate heat, so the fennel steams rather than fries, cooking without colour. When fully tender, process to a purée in a blender.

Cut the cucumber in half lengthways, scrape out the seeds with a teaspoon then grate the flesh coarsely. Grate the radishes and mix with the cucumber. Stir in the pickle juice or vinegar, the fennel purée, then shred the mint leaves and stir them in together with the yogurt.

Ladle into bowls, add a couple of ice cubes to each and, if you wish, sliced radishes and mint leaves.

Fennel seed ice cream

‘Reminiscent of childhood trips to the sweet shop’: fennel seed ice cream. Photograph: Jonathan Lovekin/The Observer

You can make this subtle, creamy ice without an ice-cream machine. Simply chill the custard then pour into a freezer box, cover with a lid and freeze until firm around the edges. Stir or beat with a whisk, mixing the frozen edges into the middle then return to the freezer. Repeat two or three times until frozen.

Serves 4-6

double cream 500ml

milk 150ml

fennel 250g, a medium bulb

fennel seeds 2 tsp

lemon 1

caster sugar 150g

egg yolks 4

to serve reserved fennel fronds and aniseed bonbons (optional)

Pour the cream into a deep saucepan and then stir in the milk. Trim the fennel, removing any bruised or tough pieces, then chop into small pieces and add to the cream mixture.

Tip the fennel seeds into a mortar and crush with a pestle. The seeds need only to be roughly crushed. Stir them into the cream and bring the mixture almost to boiling point over a moderate heat.

Grate the zest from the lemon, taking care not to include any of the white pith, and stir it into the warm cream. Remove from the heat, cover and set aside to cool.

When the mixture is cool, strain through a sieve, pressing hard on the fennel and seeds. Discard the contents of the sieve, it has done its work, then wash the saucepan and set aside.

Beat the sugar and egg yolks together using a whisk until thick, pale and creamy. Pour the flavoured cream mixture back into the saucepan, warm carefully, then pour over the egg and sugar mixture, before pouring it all back into the pan.

Place the custard over a low heat and stir until it is thick enough to lightly coat the back of a spoon. Take care not to let it boil, or you will end up with sweet scrambled egg. Pour the mixture into a clean bowl, leave to cool, then chill before pouring into an ice-cream maker and churning until almost firm. Transfer to a container and freeze until needed.

Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @NigelSlater