Tartare de saumon

Easter brunch 2013 continues, with salmon tartare. This is a sort of French ceviche, where lemon juice "cooks" raw fish. It's really really good. It made a nice little starter for us, before the quiche.

This is another lightning dish if the fishmonger (butcher here in Iowa) dices or minces the fish, as the friendly folks at Fareway did for me. Don't dare use a food processor, as it mangles the fishie's tissues.

I suppose verrines are really supposed to have layers. That's easy to do, such as Thomas Keller's with a layer of red onion crème fraiche, or one I did yesterday with capers. A red layer of marinated roasted pepper, drained from the jar and chopped would be nice too.

These "verrine" glasses are actually votive candle holders from Walmart, 88¢ each.

Serves 4

8 ounces of salmon filet (belly if possible) cut into 1/8 in dice or minced
10 chive spears or 2 green onion tops
2 teaspoons of Dijon mustard, preferably Maille
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice (about 1 medium lemon)
salt and pepper

1. Chop the chives or green onion tops very finely
2. In a bowl, beat the chives, mustard, olive oil, and lemon juice into an emulsion.
3. Toss the salmon into the dressing and season.
4. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes. 
5. Serve in small "verrine" glasses, garnished with chives or green onion tops.

Melon and champagne soup

The bubbly is Segura Viedas Brut Reserva 2011 cava

We had a champagne brunch for Easter, just the three of us. Salmon tartare, Maddie's quiche. And to start this melon soup. It's lightning fast. I bought some melon cubes (Chilean) at the store, popped them in the blender with the juices and bubbly, and -- ZAP! -- summrery froth.

I found some little airplane bottles of bubbly, so it's possible to make an ordinary day special by making this speedy soup. This is a another dentist waiting room special, adapted from Shape magazine. But it's really elegant, and it sort of tickles the nose. Or maybe that's my imagination.

Serves 4

2 cups cantaloupe chunks
1/4 cup orange juice
1 tablespoon juice
1/4 cup champagne
fresh mint

1. In a blender, puree all the ingredients except the mint until frothy. 
2. Garnish with chopped mint

Spinach, pear, roquefort & walnut salad

I had this sweet salad first in a little restaurant in Edmond, Oklahoma, my home town. It was in the space where I had my first job, a clerk in a doughnut shop. We clerks got all the doughnuts and ice cream we could eat. Great perks. I lost the job when my hair got too long and I refused to cut it. Ah the Sixties! The restaurant is now kind of shishi. Like Edmond now. Now I eat sweet salads instead of doughnuts. Ah, my sixties!

If you have the walnuts and bacon ready, this is five minutes to put together. If you don't--and have an oven on for something else--you can cook the bacon and the walnuts while other things are going.

Sugared walnuts are kind of a pain to make, and messy gooey to clean up. So an easy (and easy clean-up) method is to simply put eight ounces of walnuts (whole or pieces) on a Silpat in a baking pan, spray with cooking spray, and toss with two tablespoons of sugar. Bake in a 370 to 450 degree oven (depending on what else you are cooking) for five to ten minutes, shaking once or twice. Check them after 5 minutes. They will be crisp and only slightly sugary. Slide the Silpat out of the baking pan and cool. You can add salt or a bit of cayenne pepper or Cajun seasoning.

5 minutes
Serves 4

• 3 tablespoons vinaigrette
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 8 ounces spinach leaves, from a bag--or if not, washed! (romaine works too)
• 4 strips oven-cooked bacon, crumbled or minced (place bacon on a sheet in a preheated 400 oven for 15-30 minutes)
• 1 cup crumbled Roquefort or other good blue cheese, such as Maytag
• 1 pear, cored and cut into eight sections. (An apple corer will help here.)
• 1 cup toasted or sugared walnuts (or pecans or almonds)

1. Combine the vinaigrette and honey and microwave until warm. Start with 10 seconds on high. OR if the honey is too cold to pour, microwave the honey jar until it is warm (start with 15 seconds) and pour the warm honey into the vinaigrette, stirring with a fork to combine.
2. Chop the pears sections, crumble or mince the bacon, and toss with the dressing.
3. Add the spinach, the Roquefort, and the walnuts and toss again. 

Salade de tomate ou/et concombre / tomato/cucumber salad

The best things are the simplest. I write this in early March, when there is a lot of snow on the ground. And it is barely above freezing days. And I hate Iowa. Next pic, please.

And I do dream of summer tomatoes. Heirlooms, sure. But also just Burpee garden variety tomatoes. With some basil. No vinaigrette. Maybe some salt and pepper. Maybe not.

And then maybe some cucumbers. On the deck. (next pic please). Overlooking the miserable tomato vines that I try to grow almost every year, from the glorious smelly young plants the farmers at the market sell before there's anything else to sell, except maybe rhubarb or greens.

And then, about the fourth of July, I realize, again, that I am no farmer, nor even a vegetable gardener. I am just a tomato eater. And a pretty good one.

I am, however, an excellent tomato slicer. And that is really all it takes. Some say it doesn't even take that. Some eat tomatoes like apples, whole, just biting into them, and letting the juice go where it goes.

Not me. I am civilized. See the pics?

Timbales de foies de volaille -- Chicken liver custards

This is very much a Ladies Who Lunch kind of thing. 1950s hats and white gloves. I love it. Definitely a Madmen thing. But then MAFC is really an early 60s thing: published in 1961 (vol. 1 p. 174).

It reminds me of when we went to this time warp French restaurant in midtown Manhattan called Le Périgord a couple of years ago, with my daughter-in-law. Founded in 1964, it looked like it had the original carpet and the original waiters. I loved the dessert cart, with classics never seen today, like floating island. The fixed price lunch menu had a dish very much like this one.

Just rich enough to whet the appetite yet light; easy to make; stays warm well; inexpensive ingredients; elegant presentation. And less than 10 minutes into the oven. It also has a million variations, with (and I quote from Julia, p. 174) "ham, turkey, chicken, sweetbreads, salmon, lobster, crab, scallops, mushrooms, asparagus tips, or spinach."

Serves 4 as a first course

Preheat oven to 350º

1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
1/2 cup boiling milk
1 cup chicken livers, pressed down (about 8 ounces)
2 eggs
3 tablespoons heavy cream or crème fraiche
1 tablespoon port, Madeira, cognac, sherry, etc.
cooking spray

1. Heat water in a kettle
2. In a small saucepan, make a béchamel sauce by melting together the butter and the flour, stirring until they foam, without coloring, about 2 minutes. Off heat, beat in the milk and seasoning. 
3. In a food processor or blender on high, puree the livers, eggs, and seasoning for 30 seconds.
4. Add the béchamel sauce, the cream, and the wine and blend for 15 seconds.
5. Spray four 1/2 cup ramekins and place them in a skillet or baking pan. Divide the mixture into them and pour boiling water around them, so it comes at least half way up the sides of the ramekins.
6. Place in the oven for 25 minutes or until a needle or knife comes out clean and the timbales have just begun to shrink from the ramekins. 
7. Run a knife around the edge of each ramekin to loosen the timbale. Invert a serving plate over each and invert to unmold. 
8. Garnish with one of the sauces below. 

• Coulis de tomate: The sauce in the pic is a simplified coulis consisting of summer tomatoes cored, seeded (not peeled) then food processed and frozen. 
• Sauce Aurore: Double the amount of béchamel (step 2) and reserve half of it. Add 1 tablespoon tomato puree or tomato paste, and optional chopped fresh herbs. (MAFC I p. 62)
• Sauce Madère ou Porto: Add 1 tablespoon Madeira or port to 1/2 cup demi glace, brown sauce, or leftover sauce from braised meats (MAFC I p. 75)
• Sauce Estragon: Stir one tablespoon chopped tarragon into 1/2 cup bdemi glace, brown sauce, or leftover sauce from braised meats (MAFC I p. 75). Off heat and just before serving, beat in 1/2 tablespoon butter.

Stephen Yang for The Wall Street Journal

Plat de charcuterie d'Iowa - Is it bacon or not?

My wife and I had a (dare I say rare?) dispute this morning over whether fancy bacon should be called bacon. The cause was a charcuterie plate I put together with the help of Maddie when I was running late preparing a dinner party for two visiting teachers from Brazil. I wanted to give them a taste of Iowa, and what could be more Iowa than pork? Well, corn-fed pork anyway.

So I went to Wheatsfield Coop for some old genes pork chops from the Rosman Farm, which I cooked as Julia suggests. I realized I didn't have an Iowa starter in mind--or much time. So I picked up some charcuterie from La Quercia: prosciutto, speck, and lomo (which I had never had before).

I also picked up some Iowa cheeses: Maytag blue (of course), Maytag Munster, and from the Milton Creamery their Prairie Rose, which looks and tastes as lovely as its name sounds.

I called my daughter who came over to help clean--and to arrange the charcuterie platter. Great job, as you see. The cornichons (in a coeur à la crème mold) and Maille Dijon were necessary, the halved yellow cherry tomatoes (hot house Iowa btw) gave it color.

Now to the dispute. This morning I asked J if she liked the bacon appetizer. She didn't very much, as it turned out.
"That's not bacon!"
"Yes it is. It's Iowa Italian bacon but it's bacon."
"No, it's not smoky or salty enough to be bacon."
"We're going to agree to disagree. But next time I'll fry you up some bacon strips for the charcuterie plate."
"Good. Just make them burnt the way I like it."
"Done."
Later I asked some of J's foodie colleagues, when we were at the Drake Diner, if I had a point. They unanimously agreed. With Joyce. Ah. 

I suppose the only things I need to say in the way of a recipe are:

1. This fed four hungry people for a big first course, with crackers and some homemade bread. It's about one ounce of each of the three meats. (The two-ounce packs of the La Quercia meats cost between five and six dollars each, which works out to about $40 a pound. Worth every penny!)
2. It' takes a while to separate the paper-thin slices of meat, even though they come with thin bits of paper between each slice. So this takes 10 minutes to prepare, at least.

Mushrooms à la Grecque

Mushrooms à la Grecque is for Julia (MAFC I 537) a long process of making a court bouillon, slowly simmering the mushrooms or other vegetables in it, and finally reducing the bouillon. I speed up the process by using a good vegetable stock, which has already got the great vegetable flavors and been reduced. I then add the Greek flavors as the mushrooms are cooking. Fortunately, Wheatsfield coop has some really really good quality vegetable stock.

I like this best with mushrooms, but it works very well with all kinds of vegetables. My favorite thing is to take this on a picnic.

1 cup vegetable stock, best quality, low salt
8 ounces small mushrooms or larger ones cut in half
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
6 peppercorns
6 coriander seeds
pinch of fennel seeds (1/8 teaspoon)
two branches of celery leaves, chopped roughly
pinch of thyme (1/8 teaspoon)
salt and pepper to taste

1. In a covered saucepan over high heat, bring the stock to a boil.
2. Add the mushrooms and cover.
3. Add the rest of the ingredients, recovering the pan and shaking it occasionally.
4. After eight minutes, remove the mushrooms, using a slotted spoon or skimmer.
5. Allow the stock to continue boiling for a minute. Then pour it over the mushrooms and refrigerate for six hours or overnight, covered.

Eggplant Caviar: La Tentation de Bramafam

This dip or amuse bouche or amuse gueule (on a cracker or toast round) is straight out of Julia (MAFC II p. 353), except you nuke the eggplant in its skin instead of baking it in its skin. That means you have to find small eggplants so it will cook in 5 minutes--about 8 ounces each. It keeps two days and freezes beautifully. You can double the recipe easily, but again you must use small eggplants or microwave them longer (then you are into 14 minute territory. Horrors!).

Makes about 24 cracker toppers

Two small eggplants, totaling about one pound
4 ounces walnuts (pieces are fine but some whole ones for garnish is nice)
1/2 teaspoon salt
four turns of a pepper mill
2 large cloves, peeled
2-3 squirts tabasco
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
2/8 teaspoon powdered ginger
4 tablespoons olive oil

1. Cut off the green ends from the eggplants and microwave on high for 5 minutes.
2. In a food processor fitted with the steel blade, chop the garlic. Then add the rest of the ingredients except the olive oil and process one second to mix.
   
3. Prepare the crackers or toasts and get out an oven mitt.
   
4. When the eggplant is done, using the oven mitt, halve each lengthwise and with a spoon scrape out the flesh.
5. Add it to the processor bowl and process until grainy but blended, about 8 to 12 seconds, adding the olive oil in a stream.
6. Spoon a bit on each cracker or toast, and garnish with optional walnut halves. Or simply serve in a bowl as a spread.
   

Salade de Carotte / Carrot salad : Django Bistro

This is a bistro favorite. It's refreshing. It gets better the next day, and the day after. And it makes this season--when things are just blooming but not ready to eat--promise the summer.

This dish is not at Django, the new Bistro in downtown Des Moines, Django, where J and I ate at 10 (the place was packed) after watching our Katie compete for Yale in the national collegate mock trial competition at the Hotel Fort Des Moines. (The results are kept secret till the end, so stay tuned).

But they do have sweetbreads, the only place in Iowa that I know of that has them. So this makes me miss the little places in France that do such simple things. It's better with freshly grated carrots. So if you have an extra, oh, three minutes, it's worth it. But hey, this is is MA10MFC, not MAFC.

Salade de Carotte / Carrot salad

10 ounce bag of grated carrots
1 tablespoon lemon juice (1/2 lemon squeezed)--double it if you like!
1 large clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil (2 if you like)
salt and pepper
2 tablespoons small capers

1. In a medium bowl, combine the ingredients and toss

By the way, the bowl in the photo above is from J's grandmother, via her mother. When I was newly married and moving, we had a bigger bowl from her grandmother, and my dear sister-in-law accidentally slammed the door on my finger while I was putting the bowl in the car. The bowl broke (my finger didn't break, but was blue for weeks). And my dear s-i-l gave us this little bowl--also from J's grandmother--as a consolation. I have cherished it ever since.

Caviar and Martinis

I bought a copy of Escoffier, the bible of grand old French cooking, on my first trip to New York, in 1973, which was also the first time I ate at a French restaurant. I remember wondering why so many recipes were Russian--until I learned how many great French chefs cooked for Russian royals. Of course they brought back buffet favorites, the grandest of course was caviar.

J likes caviar for her birthday, which was last week. And it is of course very fast. As she is not finicky about her caviar (nor am I), we like whitefish roe from the state to the north of us. I like it as simple as possible, almost. Just some sour cream, chopped shallots or scallions, and chopped egg (another reason why Edouard is so right about having one or two always boiled and ready). We sat around the coffee table and put a bit of each on a cracker, as a way to make the Martinis special.

J likes a Martini most every evening, which is neither Russian or French, but thoroughly American. Cocktail culture began in New Orleans. The Martini was invented in the Bay Area. And come to think of it, the Martini combines Russian vodka with French vermouth. We just discovered Noilly Prat, the queen of all vermouths. (T. S. Eliot had a cat named after it.) We are anxious (in a bad way) to taste the reformulated product, which the cocktail critic J reads (Wall Street Journal Weekend) says is much inferior to the recipe in use for Noilly Prat in the U.S. market for decades. It will be a while before we find out, as a bottle lasts a very long time at a teaspoon a day.

J said she enjoyed her birthday. And as we drank, we reminisced about happening onto the Russian Tea Room by Carnegie Hall and having, for us, a record $16 Martini, surpassing our record from 07 set at the Algonquin. I looked on the Tea Room's web site and noticed there are some amazing specials. J said we need to get back to New York while there is still a financial crisis.

Smoked salmon roses, ol' fashion': Saumon fumé rosette

I like these little roses because the color is so beautiful. The color is, well, salmon.

4 ounces Scottish style, thin sliced smoked salmon
Dill or parsley sprigs.
Extra virgin olive oil or walnut or almond oil
Rose or mixed peppercorns in a grinder
[optional: and capers]

1. If necessary (and it usually isn't) cut the salmon into long strips.
2. Starting at one end, roll the strips into a rose shape, by rolling one side more tightly than the other.
   
3. Drizzle with oil and garnish with herbs and [optional] capers.
   

http://www.metzgerei.ch/francais/rezeptsammlung/fisch.php?navid=33

Rillettes de saumon--salmon spread

I first had this in Tours, as I started my bike trip along the Loire last summer. It was a little tourist restaurant called Roi something. On the Rue du Grand Marché just off the vieux carré.

The salmon at the best places comes from the Loire, where there has been an effort to help the Atlantic salmon spawn far up the what is the longest river in France. The river system is beautifully clear (compared to Iowa especially). I could look down from the grand gallery at Chenonceau, the chateau the spans the Cher (a Loire tributary) and snap a pic of the fish in the afternoon light below. The story is that during WWI, soldiers taken there to recover from their wounds fished from their hospital beds in the river below.

The charcutiers compete as much on the salmon rillettes as they do on their pork rillettes (pork meat and fat melted into a spread). And I had several versions of both during my five days on the bike.

This is great on a buffet, with bread or crackers, but also as a first course.

Serves 12 as a first course on crackers or bread.

• 8 ounces smoked salmon (thin sliced Scottish style)
• 8 ounces cooked salmon (leftover, or microwaved 3 minutes)
• 3 ounces European-style butter (e.g., Plugra)
• 6 ounces creme fraiche (recipe below)
  
• juice of 1/2 lemon
• 1 tablespoon chopped dill and more for garnish.
  

1. Soften the butter in the microwave (about 7 seconds on high). Mince the dill.
2. Cut the smoked salmon into thin strips lengthwise, then cut crosswise into small dice. Roughly chop the fresh salmon.
3. With a fork or whisk, toss the salmons, softened butter, creme fraiche, lemon juice, dill, and freshly ground pepper until it is lightly combined.
4. Put in ramekins or a bowl. Garnish with additional dill. Refrigerate for two hours if possible.
   
   

Creme fraiche: If you can't buy this in a market, you can make it overnight. In a microwave, warm a 1/2 pint carton of heavy cream slightly (110 degrees, for those who must be precise). Pour 1 tablespoon buttermilk into the carton of heavy cream. Shake and leave out about 24 hours, or until the cream has thickened (check it every eight hours or so). Then refrigerate.

Oeufs durs / Hard (and not so) boiled eggs

Pomaine says to keep boiled eggs around. I do. Despite my doctor's bad about my cholesterol. So I eat 2 or 3 a week. Perfect snack. So says also my favorite (now) French food blogger
"In France, an old tradition was to be able to find hard boiled eggs on counters in cafés or at bistrots and troquets." And so also in bars and movie theaters here. I remember at the Broncho we had a big jar of pickles and a twin jar of pickled eggs.

This also makes a very fancy first course, like the one with creme fraiche and caviar right (with a Parmesian crisp--see below)

I do an eight minute egg (for a US large, refrigerated). The yolk comes out firm but moist, not dry an crumbly, like the 10 minute eggs of my childhood.

If you like them soft you can buy an egg topper and take the tops off. But to peel, quickly, just run cold water over them and then crack the top and bottom on the counter, then roll to crack the rest--and the peel comes off in seconds.

The quick and easy thing from Julia is Oeuf dur mayonnaise. She said--and I remember this so well--that no one needs more of an appetizer than this. So true.

But here is one of an infinite number of fancy things to do:

1. Put a halved egg on a bed of tapenade (store bought or see the sauces entry).
2. Douse with Red Pepper Aioli.
3. Between the halves put a Parmesan crisp made on a Silpat.

The Parmesian crisp is so easy to make.

1. Preheat the oven to 425.
2. Put a Silpat on a baking sheet. Using the fine holes, grate Parmesan, Romano, or other hard cheese to make a rough disk four inches round. The cheese does not have to cover the circle. Lighter cheese will make a lacier crisp.
3. Bake for about 4 minutes or until just golden.
4. Remove the sheet from the oven and let cool half a minute or more.
5. Using a thin spatula, carefully remove the disks and cool on a rack or paper towels--or simply put on the food warm!

VARIATIONS:

 Garnishing roast salmon, with caviar in half of the halves and the yolk chopped for sprinkling on the salmon

 Mayonnaise with chopped herbs, and a little cayenne.

 With red pepper aioli and capers.
















With 10 minute ratatouille.

Of course the most beautiful is perhaps the simplest: Just cut them in half, add salt and pepper, and put them on a plate with summer tomatoes.

Aioli light--sauce, dip, garnish, whatever

This is an all-purpose sauce and dip. It has almost no calories. It tastes like it will make you fat. It's not the real thing, which has of course real mayonnaise and that deep down fat slip on the tongue (see MAFC I 92). This is a different food, really. But still loaded with garlic--which can be halved or doubled or tripled or whatever your tongue and stomach can stand. I use it all the time.

I use it mostly as a dip for crudites or shrimp, and keep the ingredients for it always in the pantry. If I'm asked to bring appetizers, I'll just pick up some cut vegetables and pre-cooked shrimp, and do this in 5 minutes flat.

But it has many uses because it's so colorful and flavorful (and keeps for weeks). I put it in a squeeze bottle and use it for decorating plates (like baked salmon). I dilute it with stock or drippings or wine to make sauces.

At party we had here recently for one of my wife's colleagues who was retiring, the guest of honor raved about the dip and ate bunches. When she asked me about it and learned it was light, she asked for the recipe.

5 minutes

5 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 4-ounce jar roasted red peppers, drained
2 cups no-fat mayonnaise

1. Peel the garlic cloves (see below) and, in a blender, puree them for about 5 seconds.
2. Add the rest of the ingredients and blend until combined.