raclette potato

I have a confession to make:

I am a sucker for babies. They reduce me to a pile of cooing, quivering jelly. When I encounter a neonate, i have to fight the urge to stuff their pudgy cheeks, fists, and feet into my mouth. This may seem bizarre, but I'm willing to bet there are some of you that are nodding in recognition.

This same compulsion applies to baby vegetables (just ask Sid Wainer). These, I recognize, are OK to put in my mouth.

My first vegetable garden was largely dedicated to the cultivation of baby root vegetables. I planted miniature varieties of white turnips, red and yellow beets, cylindrical and round carrots, and red and white pearl onions in neat rows. It was a garden fit for a dollhouse.

I also planted Yukon Gold potatoes that were intended to be full size, but when I prematurely dug them up, I was delighted to find tiny, marble-size potatoes clinging to the roots. Within minutes, I was in my kitchen, rinsing off the still-wet earth, their skins so thin that the force of the water nearly peeled them away. After a few minutes in boiling, salted water, they went into a saute pan with fruity olive oil, smashed cloves of garlic and sprigs of thyme. Heavenly, they were; creamy inside, crisp and earthy outside. Later that day, I made a simple dinner of roasted baby potatoes with melted raclette cheese, good bread and wine. I will never forget those humble meals; they rekindled my love affair with the potato.

Nowadays, I seldom grow potatoes, mainly because I don't want to sacrifice the space in my garden required to grow and hill them. At this time of year, I am on the lookout for new crops of spuds that appear at the market and will rummage through bins and baskets, picking out the tiniest specimens.

The newborn fingerlings that I found, just hours old I was told, were prime for simple preparations. But, of course, I had to play.

raclette potato

Methocel SGA forms a firm gel when heated and reverts to it's original state (here, a soft puree) as it cools. For best results, allow it to hydrate overnight.

160 g hot potato puree

75 g milk, cream, or buttermilk

15 g butter

salt

100 g water

5 g methocel SGA150

raclette cheese, cut into thin slices.

To make potato puree: Peel potatoes and cut into chunks. Drop into boiling, salted water and cook until very tender. Drain and pass through a ricer, tamis or sieve 2-3 times or until a very smooth texture is achieved. This is best made just before proceeding with recipe, while still hot.

Combine hot potato puree with milk, butter, and salt, stirring vigorously until butter melts.

Add methocel to water and blend it in with an immersion blender. Combine gel with potato mixture, stirring until well blended. Cover and chill overnight in refrigerator.

The next day, preheat oven to 250F. Fill molds with potato mixture and bake for 8-10 minutes, or until firm. Remove from oven and unmold onto baking sheet lined with silpat.

Lay slices of cheese alongside potatoes and return to oven just until cheese softens and begins to spread.

Peel cheese off silpat and drape over potato. Lift potato and mold the cheese around the bottom, pressing into place.

If desired, the raclette potato can be painted with strongly-brewed, finely-ground coffee. Serve warm.

pork peanut peach poblano

pork belly

"baked beans"

peach

poblano

coriander

My husband's baked beans are legendary. The recipe has been handed down through the generations of Canadian men in his family like an heirloom. They are not the stuff that you find in cans–they are the real deal. And they are made in a pressure cooker.

When he first told me of his cooking method, I scoffed, believing that beans should be baked long and slow. A challenge ensued. After an overnight soak, the beans were divided. His went into a pressure cooker, mine went into the oven. Thirty minutes later, his were ready to eat–soft, but firm enough that each bean kept it's integrity and the sweet, tart, and peppery syrup had penetrated them to the core. Five hours later, mine were still hard and inedible, the sauce had all but dried up. I had to concede.

Years ago, a friend brought me a can of green boiled peanuts from his travels to the Low Country. He warned me that they were an acquired taste. For me, the acquisition was quick and complete. It was the one and only time that I had access to them, until recently.

When in season, Asian markets carry raw peanuts, still in the shell. I wanted to cook up a batch in heavily salted boiling water as they do in the South, but the four hour cooking time was putting me off. Then I looked at the pressure cooker. And then I looked at the individual shelled peanuts.

Making the connection to my husband's baked beans was just a logical progression.

pork belly

Pork belly, when properly cooked until tender and succulent, is downright obscene. Choose a belly with a high ratio of fat. It can be cooked with the skin on, then sliced off to expose the creamy layer of fat that will be seared. For an added treat, the cooked skin can be sliced into thin strips and fried until crispy. The belly can be cooked in one piece or cut into individual portions for a shorter cooking time and thorough penetration of flavor. Cooking in a pressure cooker will cut the cooking time further.

3 lbs. pork belly

1 qt. rich chicken stock

1 cup peach juice

2 Tblsp molasses

1 Tblsp brown sugar

salt and pepper

In a heavy skillet, sear the pork belly on both sides until golden. Remove and place in a deep baking pan or a pressure cooker. Pour about 1 cup of chicken stock into the skillet and deglaze pan, then pour over the pork belly. Add the rest of the stock and the remaining ingredients.

To braise in the oven: Preheat the oven to 300°F. Cover the casserole and bake for 4-5 hours or until fork tender.

To pressure cook: Cover pot, lock lid and bring up to pressure. Cook for 1- 1 1/2 hours.

When tender, remove the belly from the liquid. Remove skin, if still attached, and cut into serving pieces. Sear the fat side of the belly until crispy, then brush with glaze.

For glaze: In a saucepan, combine 1 cup of peach puree with 2 Tblsps of brown sugar and 1 Tblsp lime juice. Cook over med-high heat until thickened, about 5 minutes.
To make crispy thin sheets: Cut very thin slices of raw pork belly (this is easiest when partially frozen). Lay them out on a sheet pan, slightly overlapping, and lightly sprinkle with salt. Cover the slices with a smaller sheet pan and weigh it down with a heavy skillet. Place in a preheated 250F. oven until they have crisped and taken on a light golden color.

"baked beans"

Salt pork is pork fat, usually from the back, that has been cured in salt. Fresh pork belly can be used in it's place.

4 oz. salt pork or fresh pork belly

1 lb. shelled green raw peanuts

6 Tblsps molasses

6 Tblsps brown sugar

1 Tblsp prepared mustard

1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

1/2 tsp salt (omit if using salt pork)

1 whole large onion, peeled

Cut the pork into 1/2" pieces and fry in a pressure cooker until browned and crispy. Add peanuts, molasses, brown sugar, mustard, pepper and salt (if using). Stir to combine. Place onion in center. Cover, lock lid, and bring up to pressure. Cook for 30 minutes. Release pressure and remove onion.

poached peach

August is peach season here in the Northeast. My Redhaven peaches need another week or two to ripen, but there are earlier local varieties now available at the markets. The kernel of the peach pit is a good source of Benzaldehyde (the essence of bitter almonds). To extract the kernel, strike the pit with a heavy hammer or mallet until it breaks open.

3 ripe peaches

2 cups peach juice

1/2 cup Sauternes

2 Tblsps agave nectar

3 peach kernels

Wash peaches and cut each in half. Remove the pit and extract the kernel. In a pan large enough to hold the peaches in a single layer, combine the peach juice, Sauternes, and agave nectar and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the peaches, laying them skin-side-up, and their kernels. Poach gently, until tender, about 5 minutes. Remove from liquid, peel off skin, and cut into 1" cubes. Serve warm.

poblano salad

Poblano peppers are a staple in my vegetable garden, along with the other chilis: jalapeno, serrano, thai dragon, and habanero. Poblanos are the mildest among these. Towards the end of their growing season, I allow the dark, glossy green pods to ripen on the plants until they turn a deep red. When dried, these are known as Ancho chilis. Charring the poblanos accomplishes three things: it allows the waxy skins to be easily removed, it softens the flesh to a tender-crisp texture, and it infuses them with a smoky flavor.

2 poblano peppers

1 Tblsp avocado oil

1 1/2 tsp lime juice

Salt

Char the peppers over an open flame until the skins blister and blacken. Place them in a heatproof container with a tight-fitting lid and allow them to steam in their residual heat for 10 minutes. Remove the blackened skins by rubbing them off with your fingers or a dry towel. Resist the temptation to rinse them off–you will only be diluting the flavor. When peeled, rip them open and remove the stem, membranes and seeds. Finely julienne the flesh and toss with the remaining ingredients.

poached salmon

chilled poached salmon
caviar
persian cucumber
creme fraiche
green dill seeds
leek buds
hyssop flowers

At the restaurant, we make tons of poached salmon.
Well, maybe not tons, but on the weekends we make enough to feed the masses. I'm told that it's been on the catering menu for the past 20 years and that attempts to remove it have been futile. I am not surprised by it's popularity; every time that I taste it I'm reminded of the complexity of flavor that can be achieved through simple, classic techniques.
The secret to it's success at the restaurant is that it is consistency prepared the same way. The fillets are cut off the bone and two whole sides go into a hotel pan, skin side down. Chopped onions, celery, lemons, and parsley are strewn over the top along with a liberal sprinkling of salt. Half of a magnum of white wine is poured over, followed by enough water to cover by an inch. They go into a cold convection oven at 375F. After 20 minutes, the court-bouillon just begins to steam, the vegetables begin to soften, releasing their aroma, and the oven is turned down to 325F. The salmon cooks slowly and gently until it is opaque all the way through. After the pans are removed from the oven, they cool on a rack until they are no longer hot, then they chill overnight in the walk-in. This is where the magic happens: as the salmon cools, the flesh retracts and draws in the aromatic liquid, locking in the flavor. The next day, the flesh, although cold, is soft and unctuous, and the flavor is deep and complex.
When I begin to play the what-if game with this particular preparation, I always come up short. I can think of no other techniques (short of sous-vide, which is unpractical with the quantities that we do) that would yield the same results.
If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

hot poached salmon
salsa verde
court-bouillon

whipped buttermilk potatoes

At home, hot poached salmon with salsa verde and softly whipped buttermilk potatoes is my go-to dish when I have salmon, fresh herbs, and a good bottle of Chardonnay on hand. The ripe flavors of the wine marries well with the richness of the fish and the assertive herbs.
Because the salmon is served hot and does not benefit from the flavor-boosting overnight chill, the court-bouillon must be concentrated. Copious amounts of aromatics are simmered in white wine and water until all of their flavor is extracted. This becomes more of a stock than a court-bouillon (court, in French, means short or quick). When the temperature of the stock is at 185F, the salmon are dropped in and poached for about 8 minutes, or until a translucent core remains.
Sometimes, when I can't bear to throw out the flavorful stock, I will surround the salmon and potatoes with it in shallow bowls. Doing this transforms the dish into something else…not a soup, but not quite a sauce, either…it becomes both. The soft potatoes melt into the stock along with flecks of herbs, so that after the salmon is consumed, a delicious potato-herb soup is left in the bowl.

Here, I have taken the dish and played with the textures. The salmon has been left alone, in it's state of perfection. The salsa verde, consisting of parsley, tarragon, golden oregano, common thyme, lemon thyme, anchovies, shallots, capers, extra-virgin olive oil, and white wine vinegar, has been set with agar. The agar has a higher melting point than most gels, allowing it to be served hot, while retaining it's shape. The potato base is cooked potatoes that have been passed through a tamis, blended with olive oil, salt, and buttermilk to a pourable consistency. 1.5% Methocel SGA150 is added and the mixture is whipped to aerate and lighten. The mixture is dropped off of the end of a spoon into the hot stock to form small, leaf-shaped dumplings that are firm while hot, yet melt on the tongue.
The tips of herbs, planted in the sheet of salsa verde, is directly inspired by my new planter. After years of trekking up to the garden to pick a few sprigs of herbs to season a dish in progress, and returning to a find that it has scorched or overcooked (I am easily distracted in the garden), I have planted an assortment of my favorite herbs in a windowbox on the front porch. Such a simple solution, and now I have no excuses to not use fresh herbs when the inspiration strikes.

pea soup

When I tell people that I’ve been cooking since childhood, they invariable ask how I remain interested and enthusiastic about the preparation of food. I could go on citing reasons for days–don’t even get me started–but at the very top of the list is what lures me out of bed each morning:

It is the power of transformation.

Transformation is what hooked me on baking. It taught me the effect of fire and water and the role that science plays in the kitchen. Even now, I am still amazed at what butter, flour, sugar and eggs can become.

Outside of the kitchen, the theme of transformation is the common thread that unites my other interests. When I look at a raw carrot, it is no different than how I view a blank canvas, a length of fabric, or the lens of a camera. My eyes see what it is, my imagination tells me what it can be, my hands make it be.

The journey from abstract idea to concrete product is fueled by constant dialog about possibilities and limitations. The road is not always straight or direct, and I often take detours, get lost, and crash along the way. But the joy is in the journey– the manipulation of infinite variables, the witnessing of and participation in the transformation.

The transformation that I am concerned with here is not the kind that happens in the kitchen, but at the table.

A clear, steaming hot consomme of fresh peas made by gelatin filtration is poured into a bowl of carefully arranged elements: a perfect raw oyster, a lacy mantle of roasted peanut oil and cocoa butter, mango pearls, and the flower, stems and leaves of pea shoots.

The initial effect, and most dramatic, is the melting of the roasted peanut-cocoa butter lace. Peas and peanuts are both legumes and share many aroma compounds. The emulsification reverts back to a fragrant oil that forms droplets on the surface and lends the soup an enticing aroma and flavor. As the consomme level rises, the pea shoots soften and float, the leaves open and unfurl. These add texture to the soup and reinforce the flavor of the consomme. The pearls dislodge and swirl to the bottom of the bowl, waiting to be scooped up and burst their bright mango juice in the mouth. The oyster coddles in the heat of the consomme and is intended to be the last voluptuous bite.

oyster lily

oyster on half shell
thai relish
salted cucumber veil
stella d’oro daylily
avocado lime

ngo om (rice paddy plant) tastes cool as a cucumber
crystal clear cucumber water can be had by salting thinly sliced cucumbers and setting over a colander

whipped gelatin

                                 whipped pernod tomato
                                 fennel poached in parmesan water

One of the biggest challenges about catering is getting the quantities right. Running out of food is unforgivable, but throwing out excessive food is painful. Over the years, I have come to terms with this aspect, but it still disturbs me every time. When I recently rescued a batch of tomato aspic from it's fate with the bin, it wasn't because of my conscience. I just wanted to play.

I had made the aspic from plum tomatoes that were slowly roasted in the oven to concentrate their flavor and amplify their sweetness. Relieved of their skins, they were simmered in tomato consomme with Pernod until soft and melting. This intensely flavored mixture was then pureed, passed through a chinois several times, and set with 3% gelatin. The finely diced aspic was served as part of a first course with roasted fennel, eggplant, dried olives and smoked chevre. As I was dicing the aspic, I began to wonder about gelatin's shear-thinning capabilities and for once, I was glad to see leftovers.

Back home, I learned a few things about shearing gelatin:

it does not form a fluid gel…a soft gel? yes…fluid? no.

whipping it from it's gelled state in a Kitchenaid is a lot of fun to watch, but the product is no more useful than the unfluid gel.

whipping it from it's ungelled state over a bowl of ice water allows air to be whipped in and trapped as it chills and sets. The result is a light, creamy textured gel that holds it shape, yet is soft and melting on the palate…mind blowing? hardly…useful? definitely.

smoked salmon sushi rolls

cut into a side of smoked salmon… slice off a perfect thin sheet…observe it's intrinsic beauty; striations of fat and flesh…inhale it's aroma, redolent of smoke and sea…taste it's silky complexity…listen as it tells you what it wants to be….

smoked salmon roll:
4" x 5" sheets of thinly sliced smoked salmon
cucumber brunoise
miso saikyo (white miso)

Smear a thin layer of miso in a 1" wide strip along one long edge of salmon sheet. Sprinkle cucumber over miso. Roll salmon along covered edge to enclose miso and cucumber, stopping halfway. Plate.

avocado roll:
peeled and pitted avocado halves

Place avocado halves on flat surface, rounded side up. Repeatedly poke a 1/2" diameter straw or pipe through avocado, stacking disks of avocado into straw. When nearly full, stand straw upright on flat surface and insert a 1/2" dowel into top of straw, pressing firmly to compress avocado. Line up edge of straw next to the top edge of salmon roll on plate. Push with dowel to extrude avocado roll while pulling away straw. Trim ends to align with salmon roll.

sushi and tabiko roll:
2 cups whole milk
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
1/4 cup raw sushi rice
rice wine vinegar
mirin
tabiko

Place milk, salt and sugar in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Stir in rice, cover, and lower heat to a simmer. Cook until rice is very tender, about 25-30 minutes. Puree mixture while hot, then press through a tamis. Allow mixture to come to room temperature, then season with vinegar and mirin, balancing the flavor, but leaving it assertive, as it will mute when chilled. Line a 3/4" diameter cylindrical mold with acetate. Fill with rice mixture, taking care to not leave air pockets. Wrap cylinder in plastic wrap to seal ends, then freeze just until firm enough to unmold. Unmold cylinder and roll in tabiko to completely cover. Set on plate next to avocado roll and trim ends. Place plate in refrigerator to allow sushi roll to thaw and soften.

furikake:
2 sheets toasted nori, crumbled
1 Tblsp toasted sesame seeds

Combine nori and sesame seeds. When ready to serve, lay a strip on plate next to unrolled edge of salmon.

chicken beef steak

I am a carnivore. I make no apologies, I eat meat proudly.

There was a period of time that I could not eat meat. A few months into my first pregnancy, the act of walking into a grocery store turned me into a hound, complete with a vast network of keen olfactory nerves, all of them finely tuned to one scent; that of blood. Where a hound would have salivated, it turned me wretched from nausea. It was months before I could walk into a store unscathed.

When my appetite for meat returned, it was with a vengeance. I craved bloody rare steak with such ardor that it sent me on a quest for the perfect cut of beef to grill or sear. My search ended when I discovered flat iron steak; a remarkable cut of meat whose tenderness is rivaled only by tenderloin, yet possesses the full-on beefy flavor of sirloin. I ate so much steak at that time that I was sure that my next craving would have been for grass.

Instead, I began reveling in the pleasures of a perfectly roasted chicken: crispy skin, juicy meat, and the liquid gold in the form of chicken caramel that sticks to the bottom of the pan.

There were times when the cravings for chicken and steak were simultaneous and urgent. In those instances, I could only wish that they could be fused together.

Sometimes, wishes do come true.

                  chicken breast and flat iron steak
                  beech mushrooms
                  ciopollini onion
                  potato and toasted almond sand
                  miso chicken caramel
                  spring onion sprouts

Cravings aside, chicken and beef that is Maillard cooked form a synergism where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. They share many flavor compounds and are both full of umami. When combined, individual umami compounds have a magnifying effect on each other and can increase flavor eightfold. Add to that equation potatoes, onions, and mushrooms, all rich in umami, and you can see why these are classic pairings that have stood the test of time.

McDonalds certainly understands the synergism of potatoes and beef. They have built an empire on their french fries which until 1990 were fried in a mixture of about 7% cottonseed oil and 93% beef tallow. They eventually switched to pure vegetable oil after insurmountable criticism about the amount of cholesterol in their fries. But they weren’t about to give up their money maker–now, they add "natural beef flavor" to their oil.

For this dish, fried potatoes are a given, but I’ve presented them in the form of a sand. Micro cubes of potatoes are double fried–the first time at a 275 degrees F. to cook them through and form a skin, then they are cooled and re-fried at 375 degrees F. until golden and crisp. The addition of crushed, toasted almonds accentuates the texture and flavor.

fluid gel

beet fluid gel
Cara Cara orange powder

A fluid gel lies somewhere between a gel, a puree, and a sauce. In fact, it is all three of these things.
It is made by combining a flavored base with a shear-thinning (the ability to break down to a fluid state by vigorous agitation, as in a blender, and remain fluid) hydrocolloid such as agar agar or gellan, and allowing it to solidify. The solid gel is then sheared in a blender into a creamy, fluid state, and remains that way. Using agar also allows it to be reheated up to 185F/ 85C before it remelts.
A good example of a fluid gel and shear-thinning is ketchup. Ever wonder how a few good shakes will loosen it up and allow it to flow from the bottle? Well, now you know. You’re welcome.
The greatest advantage of this technique is that it allows us to take a thin, highly flavored liquid such as beet juice, and lend it body and viscosity without the use of flavor-diluting starches.
In the end, isn’t it really about the flavor?

fluid gel
1 cup (185 g) liquid flavor base
1/2 tsp (2 g) agar
1/8 tsp (.35 g) xanthan
Blend agar and xanthan into base. Place in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Allow to cool until solidified. Place solid gel in a blender and blend until creamy.

skate mushroom cauliflower cocoa

skate sauteed in browned butter
cauliflower and blue cheese "risotto"
trumpet mushroom
porcini and cocoa consomme
dehydrated cauliflower
crushed cocoa nibs
rosemary blossom

The spark for this dish came from the pairing of chocolate and blue cheese mentioned in the white chocolate and caviar post. I played with the idea of composing a dessert from the pairing, but found myself drawing parallels from their underlying earthiness to that of cauliflower and mushrooms. Not surprising, seeing as these share flavor compounds: butyric acid (buttery) and butraldehyde (nuttiness). Fish also share these characteristics. Not convinced?…give it a try…just remember that the Maillard reaction that occurs when carb- and protein-containing foods are browned over high heat is key to the synthesis of flavors in this dish.