parsley root

Parsley root (Petroselinum crispum), also known as Hamburg root parsley, is a cultivar of flat leaf parsley that forms a bulbous taproot, much like a carrot or parsnip.

It belongs to the family Apiaceae, or Umbelliferae, a large family of more than 3,000 species known for their aromatic leaves and include other edibles: anise, fennel, angelica, dill, caraway, cumin, cilantro, celery, chervil, lovage, carrots, and parsnips. Umbellifers can be recognized by their flowers that form in clusters that resemble mini umbrellas.

In the garden, Umbellifers are useful as companion plants as their essential oils attract beneficial insects. When planted near tomatoes, which are susceptible to tomato hornworms, they attract parasitic wasps that prey upon the destructive hornworms.

Parsley root is native to the Mediterranean and used extensively throughout Central Europe. In the US, it remains uncommon and hard to find.

In appearance, parsley root closely resembles parsnips, though they are lighter in color and denser in texture. Their flavor is less sweet than parsnips and references the clean, refreshing taste of the leaves.

pork apple cedar

Pork and apple…you knew it was coming– didn't you?

I've been playing with this classic pairing for awhile now, but none of the permutations have inspired me to post on it. In fact, I recently paired pork belly with apple pie. I was actually quite excited about it because I knew the flavors would work if I kept the sugar in check and it would further break down the wall of what we perceive as a savory and a dessert. And even though I made the crust with lard (which, by the way, makes the flakiest pastry), it didn't come together for me. I think that the problem was the crust itself; the texture distracted from the creamy/crispy pork belly. I haven't completely abandoned it, though…just filed it away for another time.

In the meantime, the apple caramel gel entered the picture with its butterscotchy mouthfeel, caramelized apple flavor, and balance of sweet with tart. It was the perfect element to unite the spiced apple balls–three types of apples sous vide with spiced butter (honeycrisp-nutmeg, gala-cinnamon, roma-clove)–with the cedar-scented pork. The scent of the spiced apples, when warmed on a vanilla bean, alongside the cedar pork, is intoxicating and stirs up all kinds of memories of hearth and home. The crisp element–a cylinder of whipped granny smith apple gel–reminded me of an apple core, which inspired this presentation. Finally, the baby leeks that I started from seeds in October, introduced notes of umami.

I hope this was worth the wait…I know it was for me.

cedar pork belly

I wanted to tell you about this pork belly…

…about how, yesterday, I bathed it in apple cider and warm spices

…about how I rolled it up and cooked it sous vide for 12 hours until it was so oozy and melty that my knees felt weak.

I also wanted to tell you…

…about how amazing my house smelled as it roasted in a cloak of cedar

…about how crispy it became in a cast iron pan

…about how even recalling it fills me with lust.

I wanted to tell you all this, but instead, let me just tell you…

…that pork belly is the reason why I would NEVER make it as a vegetarian.

whipped apple caramel gel

Whipping air into the caramel gel changes its appearance from translucent to opaque and lightens the texture. Although it now resembles a creamy caramel, the impact on the palate is lighter and cleaner, leaving only an impression of creaminess. The real surprise is the tartness that wraps itself around the sweetness,(the acid concentrates along with the sugar) and plays out like an agrodolce.

I can see savory as well as sweet applications for this product, but first, I had to play with some plating variations.

apple caramel gel

The intention was to make pate de fruit.

The intention was to make it with only fruit juice. No added sugar.

The intention was to make it with agar and gelatin. Not with pectin.

The intention was one thing. The result was another.

Pate de fruit is typically made with Certo–a high methoxyl pectin that forms gels in a high sugar enviroment. Low methoxyl pectin does not need sugar, but requires the presence of calcium. The apple juice that I intended to use contained only inherent sugar (fructose) and insignificant amounts of calcium.

Agar and gelatin will form a variety of gels–from soft to brittle, depending on the proportions used–and require neither sugar or calcium. This was the territory that I intended to explore.

The initial gels were unremarkable–either too brittle or too soft. Concentrating the sugars through reduction introduced a desirable stickiness and became a critical point. Reducing too far resulted in a syrup, not enough produced a gel that was rigid and brittle.

Through a series of reductions and additions of decreasing amounts of juice, the emerging texture is firm enough to hold its shape, yet the pull of a knife renders it fluid. The mouthfeel is creamy like caramel with the viscosity of gel.

The intention was to make a pate de fruit. The result is a caramel gel.

apple caramel gel

Lacking a refractometer to measure brix, the results may require final adjustments in reduction/addition.

150g apple juice

1.5g agar

.6g gelatin

Place the apple juice in a saucepan. Sprinkle the agar and gelatin over the top. Let stand 2 minutes for the gelatin to bloom. Set pan over medium high heat, whisking until gelatin and agar are dissolved. Bring to a boil and continue boiling under mixture is reduced to app. 2 Tablespoons.

Add 80g apple juice. Boil and reduce to app. 2 Tablespoons.

Add 30g apple juice. Bring to a full rolling boil for 30 seconds.

Remove from heat and cool.

kimchi brown butter

Winter is kimchi-making time. In the past, I've made batches with cabbage, bok choy, and thinly sliced cauliflower. This year, I'm back to the traditional Chinese cabbage variety.

Although kimchi is not in my culinary heritage, it holds an inextricable position in my family of deliciousness. Another esteemed member, brown butter–though seemingly disparate, has an affinity for kimchi. Linked by dimethyl sulfide, their symbiotic relationship feels like a toasty warm blanket on a cold winters night.

romanesco steak. buckwheat. lamb bacon. kimchi. brown butter.

serves 4

kimchi stock

If your kimchi has plenty of liquid, you can decrease the amount of vegetable stock. Adjust the finished stock with salt and additional spice and acid to make it vibrant.

500g (18 oz) kimchi

125g (4.5 oz) vegetable stock

Puree the kimchi with the stock in a blender. Strain through a chinoise. Reduce the stock by half.

romanesco steak

Cooking a thick cut of romanesco cauliflower in brown butter and kimchi infuses it with a nutty, meaty flavor with a kick of fiery spice.

2 1" thick crosscut slices of romanesco cauliflower, each cut in half

40g brown butter

100g kimchi stock

salt

Season the cauliflower with salt and place in sous vide bag with the brown butter and stock. Vacuum and seal bag. Sous vide at 85C for 20 minutes. keep warm.

lamb bacon

At the restaurant, we get saddles of lamb from Colorado. After they're broken down, we're left with sheets of creamy fat, striated with meat, from the backs. Because the sheets are thin, I glue 2-3 layers together and cure them to make bacon.

4 1/4" thick slices lamb bacon

Bake in a 300F oven until golden and crisp. Chop finely.

buckwheat groats

Buckwheat groats, also known as kasha, are a psuedocereal as they do not grow from a grass. The cooked seeds have a nutty, mild mushroom flavor.

1 1/2 cups buckwheat groats

3 cups vegetable stock

1 tsp salt

In a medium saucepan, bring the water to a boil. Add buckwheat and salt. Stir well, cover, and turn heat down to low. Cook for 15-20 minutes or until tender. Reserve half of the cooked groats to make puffed buckwheat.

puffed buckwheat

reserved cooked buckwheat

2 cups canola oil

Drain buckwheat well and spread out in a single layer on dehydrator tray or on a baking sheet. Dehydrate or bake in a 150F oven until groats are hard, dry, and shriveled. Place the oil in a deep pan and heat to 375F. Drop dehydrated groats into hot oil in small batches. They will puff immediately. Scoop out with a fine mesh spoon and transfer to paper towels to dry. Repeat with remaining groats.

kimchi and brown butter emulsion

Glycerine flakes are a fatty acid ester that is soluble in fat. It has the ability to thicken oils and form

emulsions from fat and water-based mediums.

70g (2.5 oz) brown butter

11g (.40 oz) glycerine flakes

60g (2.10 oz) kimchi stock

salt

Place brown butter and glycerine flakes in a saucepan and heat over medium heat just until flakes melt. Place the stock in a bowl and gently heat over simmering water until lukewarm. Very slowly drizzle the oil into the stock while whisking vigorously. When all of the oil is incorporated, the mixture may look as if it is separating. Set the bowl into a larger bowl of cold water and whisk vigorously until mixture is smooth and stable. Season with salt. The emulsion can now be gently warmed by whisking over warm water.

to finish

Blackened garlic is made by roasting whole, unpeeled garlic cloves in a 325F oven until they are hard, dry

and black. Grated over a finished dish, they act as an earthy and mildly bitter seasoning. Store fragrant tubers such as ginger root, galangal, and tumeric in the freezer and microplane over a dish just before serving to brighten its aroma and flavor.

blackened garlic

frozen galangal

finely chopped kimchi

Arrange a half-slice of cauliflower on a plate. Next to the cauliflower, place a small mound of chopped kimchi. Cover the kimchi with the cooked buckwheat. Sprinkle with the puffed buckwheat. Make another mound of chopped lamb bacon next to the buckwheat. Place a dollop of warmed emulsion on the plate. Microplane the frozen galangal over the buckwheat. Microplane the blackened garlic over the cauliflower and emulsion.

foie brioche macaron

foie and brioche macaron with raspberry, passion fruit and fig dip

French macarons are the stuff that fetishes are made of and empires are built on…just ask Prince Pierre of Paris. Once, you had to travel to the City of Light to worship at its altar. Now, the Cult of Macaron has spread to all corners of the globe.

It is said that the macaron was introduced to the french via Catherine de Medici, though any frenchman worth his almond flour would argue that point. What is known for certain is that the original macaron was a humble cookie, a combination of egg whites, sugar and ground almonds. No additional flavorings or filling.

In Sofia Coppola's 2006 rendition of Marie Antoinette, there is a scene with the young queen and Ambassador Mercy that features the modern, brightly colored macarons. Its interesting that this modern version–a flavored and filled cookie sandwich–was created by a grandson of Laduree, over 100 years after Marie Antoinette's death. Even more interesting is that Laduree provided the pastries for the film.

Initially, the modern version of the macaron consisted of the original almond cookies sandwiched together with chocolate ganache. For the next 80-90 years, the flavorings remained simple: vanilla, chocolate, coffee, raspberry. It wasn't until the late 1990's that Pierre Herme began to seduce parisiennes with his annual haute-couture collections of sexy flavor combinations: olive oil and vanilla, passion fruit, rhubarb, and strawberry, white truffle and hazelnut, cream cheese, orange, and passionfruit, and my personal favorite–litchi, rose, and raspberry.

Nearly all of the flavor in these macarons is found in the filling. The cookies are largely left alone with the exception of food coloring, cocoa powder or chocolate, and in some cases, flavor essences. It is neccessary to maintain the delicate balance of ingredients in order to produce the crisp/fragile shell, the chewy/soft interior, and the characteristic "feet". With this in mind, I had to ask myself if there is any room for play.

The role of egg whites and sugar is fundamental. I've made macarons with methocel–they're not the same. That left me examining the almond flour. I understand its function; it provides structure and texture, but it also makes the flavor of macarons invariable and can be detected no matter what accompanying flavors are used. This, I realized, was a starting point.

As luck, or providence, would have it, I had a loaf of brioche on hand. I saw no reason why finely ground and toasted bread crumbs could not stand in for almond flour.

Macarons are notoriously capricious to make and my early attempts were hit-or-miss. It was only when I realized though the ingredients are simple, the technique is critical, that I began to get consistent results. Precisely following the procedure: leaving the egg whites at room temperature for 24 hours, sifting all dry ingredients, whipping the egg whites just until they hold their peaks, gentle folding, careful piping, leaving them to dry for 30 minutes before baking, ensured the control that was neccessary to determine if failure was caused by product, and not technique.

I am happy to report that both were a success. They came out of the oven looking perfect. The texture is right and the flavor captures the nuances and complexity of toasted brioche. The only question that remained was what to fill them with. As if I even had to ask.

Making macarons with bread crumbs is like getting a new playset at the playground. The potential for fun seems endless:

pumpernickle, pastrami, mustard

rye, smoked salmon, cream cheese

foccaccia, tomato, mozzarella

saltines, peanut butter, jelly

graham crackers, marshmallow, chocolate

oreos!

tollhouse

doughnuts, coffee

piecrust, apple, cheddar

…OK, I'll stop now.