Veronica's Test Kitchen

Celebrating Julia

            I’m one of the few food-loving folks who did not grow up watching Julia Child though I have known that her name was synonymous for bringing French Cuisine into the American household. Last year, in my search for culinary enlightenment, I had purchased several of her The French Chef dvds. I had watched several episodes and even as I found them charming, I thought her techniques were a bit dated. It was not until I read her book My Life in France that I experienced an epiphany of utmost admiration and overwhelming fondness for a woman who had discovered her passion for cooking late in life and managed to leave an indelible mark in the world of gastronomy. Now, when I watch her dvds, I feel like I have an old friend teaching me skills that an avid home cook can learn. Her techniques weren't dated , they were classic! As I read chapters about her life in France, I could hear the exuberance in her voice while she narrated her beginnings in an apartment she fondly called “Roo de Loo”. The book was further enhanced by the artful photography of her husband Paul – the other half of the team known as “Pulia”. This book also handed me the opportunity to show a picture of Julia’s kitchen, with its endless array of pots and pans, to the “Hungry” hubby.

         “See honey, look at Julia’s pots and pans. Very important to have the right cooking implement, you know,” I enthused, as if to justify my own addiction to cookware.

          I also felt the frustrations and triumphs of Julia’s experiences as she wrote her masterpiece, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In a time when America was starting to move into fast food, her timing couldn’t have been worse. The publishers thought her gargantuan book wouldn’t sell and wanted her to split it up into smaller volumes. But Julia being Julia, persevered. Her book was published, she had her public-TV series, and the rest as they say is history.

            Julia Child’s birthday is on August 15^th. Lisa, of Champaign Taste, is hosting an event to honor the enduring legacy of this wonderful woman. I knew I just had to participate. What recipe to make? Well, I have never cooked mussels before, so let’s see if Julia can make me turn out this seafood dish like a pro.

Moules A la Mariniere –II

(Mussels Steamed with Wine, Flavorings, and Bread Crumbs)

Julia Child, Mastering the Art of French Cooking

• 3 cups finely minced onions
• ¼ lb. butter
• An 8- to 10 quart enameled kettle with cover

Cook the onions slowly in the butter for about 10 minutes, until they are tender and translucent but not browned

• 2 cups light, dry white wine or 1 cup dry white vermouth
• 1-½ cups fine, dry, white bread crumbs from homemade type bread
• ½ cup chopped parsley
• 1/8 tsp pepper
• 1 bay leaf
• ¼ tsp thyme

Stir in all the above ingredients, cover the kettle and simmer very slowly for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, and making sure the mixture does not scorch. Remove the bay leaf.

• 6 quarts, scrubbed, soaked mussels
• 1/3 cup chopped parsley

Add the mussels. Cover and toss them in the kettle. Set over high heat, tossing frequently until the mussel shells swing open. Ladle the mussels and sauce into soup plates, sprinkle with parsley, and serve.

Cooking Notes:

            Julia has written her books with the home cook in mind. She intuitively knows what questions might arise when someone is new to handling a certain ingredient or dish. In her introduction to her mussel recipes, she clearly explains how to clean and prepare this particular seafood.

             It is important to scrub the shells of the mussels with a hard brush to remove the dirt that may cloud their flavor, she says. Just as necessary is to soak the mussels in water so they can release the sand that is secreted in their interior. Some cooks also add 1/3 cup of flour to 2 quarts soaking water so the mussels can eat the flour to fatten them up as well as disgorge the sand more thoroughly. Beat the flour first with a little water to mix it well. Then, after soaking the mussels, lift them into a colander, and rinse them in cold water. It is also good to pull the hair protruding from the one side of the shell halves.

            The rest of the recipe was easy. I did not have fresh breadcrumbs so I used Panko crumbs. This thickened the broth too much that it almost looked like a batter. I quickly added more wine. After a few minutes it started to look more watered down. I then added the mussels and waited for them to open, shaking the kettle every so often. How I managed not to toss the entire contents of the pot all over the kitchen was a miracle.

           I have not cooked much from Julia’s books, but knowing that I have them on my bookshelf is a very comforting thought. I know that if I were to look for a recipe or an answer to a cooking question, I can find a clear answer in the wealth of information secured in her books. I had always wanted to read “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” and “The Way to Cook” cover to cover. I might do just that before this year ends.

The Ultimate First Course

           Last December I was in a cookbook-buying frenzy. A lot of fellow food bloggers would post their must-have cookbooks on their blog and I would eagerly check them out. More often than not, most books on their list ended up in my shopping basket. One of these cookbooks was Michel Richard’s Happy in the Kitchen. It arrived in the mail with other books and after giving it a cursory once over have lain forgotten as others distracted me, particularly the ones dealing with chocolate and pastry.

        When the James Beard nominees were announced earlier last month, Michel Richard was nominated for the “Outstanding Chef” award and his book for “Best Cookbook in the Professional Point of View” category.

      This peaked my interest. I got Happy in the Kitchen out and started to browse through it more intently. A recipe caught my eye. Foie Gras Brulee -- what in the world? At first I thought, “Eewww!” Throwing foie gras in with cream and eggs did not sound appealing! Besides, what an abomination to put foie gras through a blender! I shut the book, eyes looking upward and puckered my lips to one corner in deep thought. My inner voice chided loudly, “What happened to thinking outside the box?” With a sigh, I opened the pages of the book to the “weird” dish, and studied it with a more open mind.

     Michel Richard is known for his unusual recipes and inventive ways so he must have had a darn good reason for mixing duck liver and custard. Okay, foie gras and cream are very rich. You need something sweet and tart to cut through the richness. I guess that is what the sugar crust, the drizzle of balsamic vinegar and the fruit cut-ups are for. Hmmn… this might just work!

      Excitement started to course through my veins. Let’s see. The beginning of spring is quite difficult for picking out fruit. There really isn’t any fruit in season so to speak of. I still see quite a few oranges and I noticed some great looking blackberries(although more a summer fruit really) in the market lately so I guess I will go with those.

     I also thought about the 30-yr old balsamic vinegar that I have gotten from Oliveto waiting to make its debut; what a fantastic and fitting dish this would be to drizzle it on. And after unearthing some Persian pistachios from the freezer, a purposeful gleam entered my eyes.

      

Foie Gras Brulee

       From Michel Richard’s Happy in the Kitchen

¾ cup heavy cream

Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

6 ounces foie gras (Grade B) cut into 1-inch dice

2 large eggs

Pinch of ground coriander

Granulated sugar

An assortment of fruits in season such as orange segments

Hazelnut or walnut oil

Balsamic vinegar

Chopped pistachio nuts

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 250 °F.

Place the cream in a small pot and season generously with salt and pepper. Add the foie gras and heat over medium–high heat until the cream is hot to the touch. Transfer to a blender.

Add the eggs to the blender, season with the coriander and 1 teaspoon of sugar, and puree. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. If there are bits of foie gras left in the strainer, return to the blender with some of the strained mixture and reblend, then strain again.

Place four 1-inch-deep by 5 inch wide round or square quiche or brulee dishes in a baking pan. Divide the foie gras mixture among the dishes. Fill a pitcher with very hot tap water and place next to the oven. Place the pan on the oven rack and add enough hot water to come halfway up the sides of the dishes. Cook for 1 hour, or until the custard is set when a dish is jiggled.

Remove from the oven and let cool in the water bath, then refrigerate for a few hours, until cold, or for up to 1 day.

About 30 minutes before serving, remove the brulee from the refrigerator.

Sprinkle the top of a brulee generously with sugar to cover. Then quickly turn the mold over and tap the bottom to remove excess sugar, leaving just a thin layer. Use a blowtorch to brulee, moving the torch slowly above the surface and adjusting the flame as necessary to melt and caramelize the sugar without burning it. Repeat with the remaining brulees. Let the brulees sit for a few minutes to allow the crust to harden.

Meanwhile cut the fruits as necessary.

When the sugar has hardened, brush the tops of the brulees with a light coating of nut oil and then balsamic vinegar. Arrange the fruits and pistachios over the top. Brush them lightly with nut oil and sprinkle with fleur de sel and pepper.

Cooking Notes:

     Contrary to my first impression of this book being complicated, this recipe was very easy. It is important to pay attention to the temperature of the cream because you do not want your precious foie gras to dissolve into a pool of fat. I salted the cream while I heated it in the pot. After I put everything in the blender and added the eggs, I tasted for salt again (I know, yuck, but I learned earlier on that it was important to taste as you cook.) Satisfied with the seasoning, I distributed the custard mixture evenly among the ramekins and put it into the oven in a water bath. Notice how the custard was baked at a low temperature – I figured this was the temperature at which it can cook without melting the foie gras into the custard. I also put a cookie sheet on top of the ramekins to ensure gentle cooking.

    When the foie gras custard was done, there was a thin film of fat on top but it was quite negligible so do not worry if this happens. I chilled them for at least 3 hours although overnight was definitely preferable.

     The hubby did the honors of the bruleeing.  We waited till the crust hardened before painting a thin layer of olive oil (I did not have nut oil.) We drizzled the syrupy 30-yr old balsamic, finished off with cut oranges and blackberries and sprinkled some pistachio pieces on top.

     So how did it taste after all is said and done?

     As I cracked the crusty shell with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation, what I felt quickly turned into a perceptible desire for more as the silky and soft custard tempted my taste buds with a flavor that was so luscious and yes…sensual. What was this magic alchemy of cream, egg and foie gras?  It definitely tasted of foie gras that was so cleverly refined with cream and so seamlessly complemented with citrus, bruleed sugar and of course, balsamic vineger. The taste was deceptively light too. In fact, even after agreeing to share just one, the “hungry” hubby decided he wanted one of his own (personally I think he had fun with the blow torch and wanted to experience that again.)

      I have found the ultimate first course. Even if your guests do not like foie gras, they can potentially eat and love this. As you can all tell, I am at a loss for words to describe this elegant prelude to the main meal. The one problem is, if your main entrée can top its predecessor. Unfortunately, how to do that is not covered in this post ;).

    As for Michel Richard’s book, it delivers on its promise. You will indeed be “Happy in the Kitchen” as you cook from this beautiful book!

Foie Gras in Blackberry Sauce

            I got alarmed when I read Michael Ruhlman's piece on MegNut's site about a certain politician wanting to pass a bill to ban the sale of foie gras in New Jersey (it’s already banned in Chicago). I hope such idiotic laws do not see the light of day in Virginia. In any case, this made me look at the contents of my freezer and realize that I am out of these precious morsels of duck liver; I usually buy a whole lobe to cut up and freeze.  It makes a fabulous first course or appetizer; all you need is something tart to cut through its richness. I have tasted it cold as a torchon or lightly pan seared; I prefer the latter preparation because the former sits heavier in my stomach and would simply ruin my appetite for the main course. Of course it is a matter of preference.

           For this preparation I loosely adapted a recipe from Patrick O’ Connell’s “Inn at Little Washington”.

Blackberry sauce

            1 tbs butter

            1 tbs chopped shallots

            6 oz. fresh blackberries

           1/3 cup water

            2 tbs currant jelly

            1 tbs chicken stock

            ½ tsp finely chopped thyme

            Freshly ground pepper to taste

            In a 2-quart saucepan, melt the butter over low heat. Add the shallot and blackberries and sweat for 3 minutes. Add the currant jelly, water and stock and reduce until it is the consistency of syrup. Remove from heat and strain. Add the time and pepper. Add the thyme and pepper.

NOTE: In case you are lazy to make a sauce, you can buy sauternes jelly to have on standby, even lingonberry preserves are pretty good with foie gras.

Foie Gras

            Foie gras

            Salt and pepper to taste

            Fresh black berries    

            To prepare the foie gras, soak it in ice water for about 10 minutes. This draws out the blood and firms up the flesh to prepare for slicing. Separate the two lobes and remove any visible fat and sinew. Using a very sharp knife dipped in warm water, slice the foie gras on a bias about ¼ inch thick. Season with salt and pepper. In a heavy skillet, sear the foie gras on each side for about 30 seconds, or just until golden brown until a crust forms. Remove from skillet and blot on paper towels. Pour off any excess fat and deglaze with the blackberry sauce. Add fresh blackberries and

reduce to syrupy consistency.

COOKING NOTES:

            The first time I bought foie gras I did not know what a fresh lobe looked like. In short I was clueless as to what to do with it. The ice water bath and the warm knife really makes life easier as to its slicing so never skip this step. Also the first time we cooked it, we were seized with panic as we watched the slices dissolved steadily into a puddle of fat. I was left with barely discernible pieces of foie gras and any self respecting chef or chef wannabe for that matter, will be aghast by such irreverent treatment. It is best that the foie gras be at room temperature before cooking since you want a nice melting center to emerge as you sear it, which will not happen if it is cold. Foie gras freezes very well so don’t be discouraged from buying the whole thing. Remember, it could be intimidating to handle at first, but after your first one it gets a lot easier.

Apple Rutabaga Soup

            About two years ago, the “hungry” hubby and I attended an eight-course dinner in honor of Patrick O’ Connell, chef proprietor of the “Inn at Little Washington”. The idea was that eight local chefs were each to prepare a dish from Patrick’s new book “Refined American Cuisine”.  Quite daunting if you ask me with the great man himself seated right there to taste each rendition of his recipes. This was the same night I met J, a lady of great taste in haute cuisine. She was a regular at “The Inn at Little Washington” so she was quite familiar with the menu offering and would know immediately if the recipe interpretations were off. One item on the menu that I remember quite well is the Apple Rutabaga soup. It was a soup chock full of flavor but so smooth and refined that you wondered how it could be infused with so much complexity.

Well to start with, I have never heard of rutabaga but I soon found out that it is very similar to the turnip. It is relatively tasteless eaten as is but according to Patrick O’ Connell, the flavor is brought about by maple syrup!

            The first time the “hungry” hubby and I attempted making this soup, it did not turn out the way we had it at that fateful dinner. We did not know whether to include the broth in the puree or leave it out. We finally determined that we do need the broth since we could not strain the puree without it. We had quite a giggle after that; the cluelessness of it all! My second attempt this time around was more a success; even I was surprised. This time it was deliciously rich without diminishing gratification due to increasing satiety.

¼ lb (1 stick) butter (113gm)

1 cup roughly chopped onion (230gm)

1 cup peeled, cored and roughly chopped Granny Smith apple (230gm)

1 cup peeled and roughly chopped rutabaga (230gm)

1 cup peeled, seeded, and roughly chopped butternut squash (230gm)

1 cup peeled and roughly chopped carrots (230gm)

1 cup peeled and roughly chopped sweet potato (230gm)

1 quart good chicken stock (1 lt)

2 cups heavy cream (480ml)

¼ cup maple syrup (60ml)

Salt and cayenne pepper to taste

In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, melt the butter. Add the onions, apple, rutabaga, squash, carrots, and sweet potato and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent.

Add the chicken stock, and bring to a boil. Simmer for 20 to 25 minutes or until all of the vegetables are cooked through and tender.

Puree the vegetables in a blender or food processor. Strain through a fine mesh sieve into the same pot you used to cook the vegetables. Add the cream, maple syrup, salt, and cayenne pepper.

Return the pot to the stove, bring the soup to a simmer, and serve.

COOKING NOTES:

            This recipe is very flexible, you do not have to exactly measure one cup each. Those are just guidelines. Before you add the syrup, salt and cayenne pepper taste the strained puree and adjust your seasonings accordingly. Also, I did not use the full 2 cups of heavy cream, the best thing to do is to whisk it in slowly and as you attain the consistency and color you like, stop.

I pureed the vegetable in 3 batches. Do not attempt to put it all in your food processor (unless you have one of those huge commercial ones) or you will end up with a big mess on your hands. I still ended up with a big mess since I could not determine which sieve to use. I eventually settled on a very fine mesh chinois. It is important to puree the vegetables very well by letting the food processor run for approximately 30 seconds for each batch. Have patience straining it through the chinois. Every drop is “liquid autumn”!

Fig-uring it out

I was leafing through this yummy book, “Dishing with Style” by Rori Travato last Saturday, wondering what I could cook up with what I have available in the refrigerator. I found a simple yet wonderful recipe involving figs. When I think of figs, I almost always think about its biblical connotations, but when it comes to my hubby he is one to love figs with an obsession. Yes, he has two trays sitting in the refrigerator right now, and wonder of wonders, the preparation calls for goat cheese of which I have just bought two cylinders of. To prepare it is easy (especially since I did not do the grilling). Leave the (soft) goat cheese out to room temperature and fold in some chopped rosemary and sweeten with a little honey. Brush the figs with olive oil and grill it for 5 to 8 minutes until it starts to brown. Take it off the grill and wait for it to get cool enough to handle. While the figs are cooling off, take the goat cheese and fill a pastry bag using the star tip. Cut the figs from the stem top in an “X” and gently spread it open. Pipe the goat cheese in the design desired and garnish with chopped rosemary.