Friday, July 1, 2011

What did Frederic Church Eat at Olana? Chicken Curry and Apple Custard!

Olana

Olana view from Julianne Zaleta of Herbal Alchemy 


A few weeks ago, our little group of foodies and scenties, Rebecca Wizenreid of  3 Points Kitchen, Julianne Zaleta of  Herbal Alchemy and Lucy Raubertas of  Indie Perfumes and myself (we need a name, ladies –– Les Dames de l’Alchemie, La Confrérie des Alchemistes?), drove a few hours north of NYC to visit Frederic Church’s Olana, perched high above the Hudson River near by the diminutive Rip Van Winkle Bridge and antique mecca, Hudson NY. It was a spectacular spring day and the lovely ride up from the city was a perfect way to mentally dissolve our constraining city suits and don the nurturing spiritual raiments of Arcadia.   


The house is dazzling and eccentric and attracted many famous figures in the 19th century with the gracious hospitality of its owner (don't worry, I'll share some original recipes served at Olana).  If that isn't enough, the view is one of the most breathtaking on the East coast and nearly unchanged from the 19th century.

Frederic Edwin Church (1826-1900)

Frederic Edwin Church was a premier member of the Hudson River School of Painting.  A child of privilege from Hartford, Connecticut, his father Joseph was a silversmith who became a director of Aetna Life Insurance.  When young Church showed an interest in painting, family friend, Daniel Wadsworth  (of the Wadsworth Atheneum in Connecticut) introduced Frederic Church to Thomas Cole in 1844 and Cole took the 18 year old under his wing (Cole founded the Hudson River School  in 1825). Church thrived under his tutelage and success came quickly to the young artist.

Heart of the Andes

Church’s sensational early work, Heart of the Andes, was painted in 1859 after he traveled to South America in 1853 and 1857.  There he sketched images of incomparable beauty and majesty that he found there and those sketches would be worked into his oil paintings when he returned to New York.  Church was inspired by naturalist and explorer, Alexander von Humbolt,  the author of Kosmos and a true polymath who believed landscape painting was a superior expression of love of nature –– a quality he reverenced (Dr. Lost Past tells me he cast a giant shadow, Carl Sagan's Cosmos was so named in homage to von Humbolt).  Humbolt’s writings also motivated Church to go to the Arctic in 1859. Church was also influenced by John Ruskin’s Modern Painters  where Ruskin: “ emphasized the scrutiny of nature”.   Ruskin believed “To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion–– all in one.” 





Church made a lot of money with the painting by charging admission (12,000 people paid 25¢ to view it) at New York’s Studio Building on West 10th Street.  At the time, the painting had a remarkable effect on its viewers, “women felt faint. Both men and women succumb[ed] to the dizzying combination of terror and vertigo that they recognize[d] as the sublime. Many of them will later describe a sensation of becoming immersed in, or absorbed by, this painting, whose dimensions, presentation, and subject matter speak of the divine power of nature” said Wikipedia . It was monumental (nearly 5’x10’ not including the enormous frame). The painting was later purchased for  $10,000 … the most paid for a painting by a living American artist to date (it was bequeathed it to the Metropolitan Museum in 1909).  Oh yes, Church was one of the founding trustees of NYC’s Metropolitan Museum of Art!



The work impressed one young lady to be sure. Church met his wife to be, the lovely Isabel Carnes at the exhibition.

The Arabic writing says, marhaba, which is welcome in English in Julianne’s Photo

Newly married, Church had engaged Richard Morris Hunt  to build his charming ferme ornée called Cosy Cottage for a country get-away (he lived and had his studio in NYC) on his first piece of property on the Hudson. When he bought more property on the mountain-top (his estate eventually encompassed 250 acres with a 10 acre lake and a profitable working farm), Hunt submitted a plan for a French chateau-style house, which Church approved.  Then Church changed his mind.  Inspired by a tour of the Middle East (1867-8), he dismissed Hunt and enlisted Calvert Vaux, famed Central Park architect, to manifest his new vision. Author Louis Werner discovered in a letter Church had written to a friend, “Having undertaken to get my architecture from Persia, where I have never been –– not any of my friends either –– I am obliged to imagine Persian architecture –– to embody it on paper… I made it out of my own head.” Vaux took to the project and was as passionate about it as the owner.  The house was completed in 1872.



Petra by Frederic Church 1874

Petra (made famous in the Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade film) had an enormous effect on Frederic Church.  Louis Werner, in his article, “A Treasure house on the Hudson”  revealed that Church wrote in his travel journal “The tombs, many of them, were cut in a rich orange-red rock full of waving shades.  Sometimes the rock was a lovely dove tint also full of graded tints.  I never beheld anything so beautiful in rocks.” “This wonderful temple is cut in the face of a tremendous precipice which is of a black color with an olive tinge in it.  The rock when freshly exposed is of a beautiful reddish salmon color miscalled pink by some travelers.  It is wonderful to see so lovely and luminous a color blazing out of black stern frightful rocks…”


Church used Petra’s colors on Olana’s walls.  Petra was also the subject of one of my favorite of his paintings with his magical view of Petra through the siq—a rock passageway that opens on the monument (admission –– I love Petra too!).  Church was worried he’d be overtaken by roving bandits at any moment as he did sketches of the site:  “I flung open my pocket sketchbook and drew the scene roughly, we then dashed down the path and seized another view, an so on, sketching and running until we reached the narrow plain below where the camels had long preceded us.” This painting was given to his wife as a gift.  In its monumental frame (created by Church for the painting), it has remained on the sitting room wall for well over a century.

The designs for the veritable riot of stenciled graphics all over the house came from 19th century pattern books of Middle Eastern motifs.  Church executed most of the sketches for the designs based on these books but did not paint them himself.  They are remarkable and in perfect condition.



























From Olana historic site 

Sadly, the kitchen is undergoing renovations so I wasn’t able to view it or photograph the charming pantry full of the families’ dishes (no photography is permitted in the house), but the dining room is remarkably quirky and full of rather somber old masters I imagine Church gathered on his European trips.  Judging from contemporary letters and journals, it seems the dinners there were anything but somber…. They were charming! Church had a vast collection of native costumes from all over the world (some of which are on display) that were often worn at dinners as well as being used for his paintings.  They must have been very colorful affairs judging from the costumes that I saw with wild hats, curl-toed shoes and dashing robes… there are fun photographs of the family dressed up in the costumes.

The remarkably accommodating Librarian for Olana, Ida Brier, was kind enough to send me accounts of the 19th century table at Olana:




“Research has shown that some dinners were formal affairs, where all wore evening dress and the different courses were each served on separate plates.  Other meals were less formal, with all the food laid on the table at one time and passed around.  All visitors concurred that an abundance of food was always found and that the produce of the farm was always included. They write of dinners of chicken, green peas,  new corn, potatoes, wild berries & cream and cake and the table set with old silver things.   And as Church noted:  “We are not ashamed to offer our friends ham and eggs – in fact we are rather proud we have it to offer – and if we come a little short in our fare at supper – we usually recompense our hungry guests by a substantial sunset.” (FEC to Prof. O. Rood, May 16, 1875.  Collection Columbia University Libraries, Special Collections.)  Sounding entirely modern, he writes to his friend Mr. Warner just before Thanksgiving in 1888:  “We are preparing to celebrate the Morrow.  I got my Turkies from Rhode Island which is celebrated for the breed . . . Its better for the flesh of any animal or bird not to have suffered much in Mind or body just before death.” (Archives, Olana State Historic Site)”


The Olana Crayon, the Newsletter for Olana 

Further, in an article in The Olana Crayon called The Hidden Olana, Food, Glorious Food, Brier and her fellow author Valerie Balint quoted one guest –– author, artist and fellow world traveler, Susan Hale  : “We have delicious things to eat, did I mention it? All out of the garden . . . cream, ice cream of the same, and wonderful floating islands, & such, with Mexican dulces with odd names, forms of guava and nougat.” … “Breakfast is very punctual at eight.  The neat maid twangles a triangle to summon us, and we meet in the superb dining room . . . Exquisite flowers arranged only by Mrs. Church are always on the table, and every plate and pitcher and napkin is chosen for its beauty or prettiness.  . . . Delicious cream and perfect coffee, burnt in the only machine of its kind in the world . . . Coffee is served after dinner in little cups with exquisite little spoons, each one different, in the shape of some flower or leaf; all these things are Mr. Church’s taste.”  Susan Hale to Lucretia Hale, July 6, 1884, while visiting Olana  "Letters of Susan Hale", Caroline Atkinson, ed. 1918. pg 141.

Brier reported:Church was very fond of coffee, and always sending coffee beans to his friends - 2 bags of Colima coffee to Samuel Clemens, 140 lbs of coffee to his daughter and son-in-law; and a later shipment of Oaxaca coffee sent to them with the admonition to age it for 2 years(!)” 


The house is full of books that are original to the house and Brier was kind enough to give me a listing of some of the cookery/housekeeping books in the library.  Astonishingly, they are all now available online… I include links to them.  

The housekeeping / cookbooks found in the historic library include: 

Elizabeth Miller, In the Kitchen (1875)
Maria Parloa, Miss Parloa’s Kitchen Companion 
               (Boston:Estes & Lauriat, 1887) 
Parkes, Mrs. William, Domestic Duties - or, Instructions to Young Married Ladies: On the Management Of Their Households, and the Regulation Of Their Conduct In the Various Relations and Duties of Married Life/Third American Edition.-- NY: J.& J. Harper, 1829;
Barker, Lady, First Lessons in the Principles of Cooking: in three parts.--London:  McMillan & Co, 1874;  
Mrs. Putnam,Mrs. Putnams's Receipt Book and Young Housekeepers Assistant.-- NY:  Oakley and Mason, 1867; 
Mary F. Henderson, Practical Cooking and Dinner Giving (New York:  Harper, 1886); 

The Olana Crayon article continues: “There are numerous cookbooks in the Olana Archives, and many contain handwritten receipts, as recipes were called at that time.  Within In the Kitchen, a cookbook written in 1875 by Elizabeth S. Miller, are numerous pages written in Isabel Church’s own hand in sections entitled For Additional Receipts.  These collected recipes include everything from Calves Liver a la Mode to Bishop’s Buns to Sweet Waffles and are often denoted by the name of the person who gave Isabel the recipe.”



One of these came from Thomas Appleton, who Brier writes was: “a well-known poet and essayist, as well as a patron of the arts and sometime painter. There are several recipes from Appleton written in Isabel [Church]’s cookbooks, and a letter by Frederic references both this dessert and a soup dish when thanking Appleton for a lovely stay at his home in Boston:  “Not only fragrant memories of things heard and seen, but fragrant memories from Ann’s domain are brought to us – The latter in practical shape.  Mrs. Church has already developed successfully the ‘Chowder’ and ‘Red Robin.’  We have most assuredly profited from our visit.”  

I found the recipe for the soft custard in the Putnam cookbook, and it’s not too hard to imagine the Church’s cook, Jane, may have referred to the book when preparing Appleton’s ‘receipt’.  The result is rich but refreshing with a very sexy texture thanks to the luxurious custard… who knew applesauce could be sexy? 

The second recipe for an Indian Curry is a contribution from the Church children’s tutor, a Mr. Scudder.  It is simple and delicious.  I chose to make it with a poussin (a very young chicken) from D’Artagnan but it would be good with a Cornish hen or a small, cut-up chicken or chicken breast (or even the mutton or veal that Scudder mentioned in his receipt).  The addition of the cardamom seemed frightfully exotic for the times!  I was a bit skeptical about the lard and coconut milk but I shouldn’t have been… it is pure evil and I mean that in the nicest way because the spicy heat is gorgeous with the rich full flavors. I must say onions with the sweet lard (pastured pigs make lovely lard) and cardamom are insanely good together… I had a hard time keeping myself away from eating them by themselves!


Red Robin

4 c milk (I used 3 ½ c milk and ½ c cream)
8 eggs
1 c sugar
1/3 c Pedro Ximeniz sherry or a sweet-ish Madeira (Boston Bual or NY Malmsy from Rare Wine Company)

Whip the eggs and sugar till frothy.  Add scalding milk to eggs, stirring constantly.  Strain and put on top of a double boiler till thickened, stirring constantly.  It will have the texture of very thick cream or, say pancake batter.  Chill or serve warm.

5 apples, cored but with peel for color and cooked down with 1/4 sugar
rind of a lemon grated
2 T cognac

24-32 very thin slices apple with peel
3 T maple syrup
1 T lemon juice

Cook down applesauce.  Run it through a food mill to get rid of the peel.   Toss apple slices in syrup and lemon juice, blended. Lay apple slices on silpat and cook for 1 hour at 200º or until translucent… longer if you want them crisp.  You may want to make more of these.. they are quite good!

Pour custard into a bowl top with applesauce and serve with slices on top

Red Robin – Mr. Appleton

“5 Apples – cut and cooked as for applesauce. Then add a large bowl of sugar and grated rind of one lemon – Then cook and make into marmalade. Put in mould and cooled. Pour over marmalade on soft custard strongly flavored with wine -”


From Mrs. Putnam’s Receipt Book



Curry - from India for 2 persons

2 T lard or duck fat
2 semi-boned poussin from D'Artagnan (they are 10-12 oz each) or 1 cornish hen or 2 chicken breasts
salt and pepper to taste
2 large onions, sliced
¼- ½ t cardamom to taste
¼ t cayenne pepper
2 T curry powder mixed with water to form a thick paste
1 cup coconut milk
juice ½ lemon

Saute the chicken until brown on both sides and remove. Sauté the onions slowly in the fat till brown and add the cayenne and cardamom. 

Add the curry mix and the coconut milk and stir for a few minutes. Put the chicken back in the pan and let simmer slowly until the chicken is done, about 10 minutes. Serve.



To make Curry:

2 tablespoons of lard.
2 large onions sliced & fried brown
2 large spoons curry powder mixed with water to a thick paste & stirred well into the onions & lard. 

Then add mutton or veal cut up into small pieces, (or a young chicken, jointed) & cook well with the other ingredients adding the milk of a grated cocoanut which may be obtained by pouring hot water over the grated cocoanut & squeezing hard until the milk is extracted.  

After the milk is put in, it must be stirred all the time for ten minutes; then leave it all in the frying (covered) pan, on the stove to simmer, but not cook.   Just before it is to be served put in the juice of half a lemon.   If cocoanuts are not to be had, use a small cup of rich cows milk, part cream if you have it, lightly sweetened with white sugar. 

This quantity is sufficient for 4 to 6 persons.   If it is required to be very hot add cayenne & black pepper.   2 or 3 cardamums alter and improve the taste of curry. 


Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday!!!


I am off to the Oxford Food Symposium and will be posting from the UK for a few weeks!

PS.  My Friend Spencer at A Friend in New York is doing a tour of Olana and Hudson antique shops on July 23.  Here’s a link for his tour which will be great  fun!: OLANA TOUR


Friday, June 24, 2011

Arista, Pork Tenderloin with Rosemary and a little HEAT!




A few weeks ago I brought a book with me to read over a long weekend in Vermont.  The book? Not an antique this time but rather 2006’s Heat by Bill Buford.  It was one of those books I’d been meaning to read for years but just never got around to doing it.  Once I started it was hard to stop.


Heat tells the tale of a mild-mannered magazine editor who throws caution to the wind and bravely jumps the good-ship-New Yorker  to live the life of a cook.


Mario Battali

Working first for Mario Batali at Babbo, then, following in Batali’s footsteps on the culinary learning trail ––
Marco Pierre White

Buford goes to visit the mad genius Marco Pierre White in London.

 

Next he spends time at a tiny Italian restaurant in Porretta Terme, Italy to learn from a pasta sorceress named Betta.


He finishes with the world-renowned Dante-spouting butcher in the Tuscan town of Panzano–– Dario Cecchini the meat artist, nicknamed the “Michelangelo of Meat”.

In the course of a few years, Buford moved from a professional-kitchen visitor to tourist to a legitimate member of the cooking profession and learned his lessons well.  By the end of his tour of duty he could dance to the rhythm of the kitchen “line” like a pro and had an enormous feeling of pride of accomplishment, as well he should.  I can’t imagine pulling it off at my age.  It’s a great inspirational book.

Returning to NYC, Buford employs the skills from his butchering lessons with Dario to take a pig apart in 7 days, using every morsel to make dish after glorious dish.  On the 4th day of his labours he made the classic Tuscan pork dish, Arista.   To make it he “ … added ingredients in Dario’s order:  garlic, thyme, the fennel pollen… the black blanket of pepper, the green blanket of rosemary, the salt blizzard.” Something clicked when I read about those blizzards, I was lost –– I couldn’t help myself –– I had to make this with a piece of D'Artagnan's Berkshire pork tenderloin I had left over from making game pie a few weeks back (probably the best I have ever had!).  The original called for a larger cut… usually the whole loin or “saddle” used with or without the bones so I had to make some changes.  If you have a whole loin just ‘up’ the ingredients for the paste and up the cooking time… loins are around 4 pounds.  I think it would be great grilled but I pan-roasted it. And what about flavor??? It was over-the-top perfectly delicious.

Oh, by the way, lest you think fennel pollen is a new addition... al contrario, it was used when the dish was young... Scappi used it frequently in his seminal 16th century cookbook L'Opera.

Benozzo Gozzoli, Journey of the Magi, 1459 (inspired by the very international Council of Florence)


This dish has serious chops and something like it has been made in Italy since the middle ages, even if the famous story about its beginning is probably apocryphal.  Famous 19th century Italian chef Pellegrino Artusi  reported that the dish was served at the tremendously important ecumenical meeting called the Council of Florence in 1439,  attended by the Byzantine Patriarch Bessarion and most of the top members of the Catholic church in the known world –– it was HUGE. They had to move it to Florence from Ferrara because of worry about plague ( and doubtless because the town larder was emptied feeding them all!).  When the Greek bishops ate this roast (that had been known by a different name at the time) they said “Arista! Arista!” which translates into something like “terrific” (aristos is “the best” in Greek and root of the word aristocrat).  The dish has been called Arista ever since… at least that’s how the story goes.  There is a rumbling coming from a few sources that tells me arista was mentioned a century before this meeting. I haven’t seen the proof for that as of yet, however.  It’s a lovely story, nice if it were true… when you taste it you could imagine it happening.

Served with roasted potatoes with olives… HEAVEN.

 

Arista with Pork Tenderloin, inspired by Dario (serves 2-3)


2 cloves of garlic, minced
3 sprigs of rosemary, chopped (plus extra for exterior)
2 sprigs of thyme, chopped
½ to 1 t pepper to taste (I went for 1 t)

2 T olive oil
½ c white wine

Chop all the herbs and spices together.  You should have about 3 T.  Gently slice open the tenderloin so it is flattened (around ½” thick) and put 2/3 of the mixture inside.  Fold up the small end and tie the loin together.  Rub the rest of the mixture over the outside.  Stick extra rosemary in the strings.



Preheat oven to 425º

Brown the pork in the oil on all sides in an oven-proof skillet for 3-5 minutes. Pick up any stray bits of garlic and set aside… if you leave them in the pan they will burn. Transfer to the oven for about 15 minutes, turning once, till it registers 145º.  Cut the string and let rest for 5 minutes.

While the meat is resting, add the demiglace and wine and scrape up the brown bits in the skillet and add the garlic you had put aside… pour over the pork to serve.

Garlic Roasted Potatoes with Black Olives from Nancy Harmon Jenkins (serves 3-4)

2 pounds potatoes unpeeled and cut into chunks
4 chopped garlic cloves
3 sprigs rosemary
½ t pepper
1 t chili flakes
½ c olive oil
24 chopped olives
2 T minced parsley

Heat oven to 425º.  Toss the potatoes in the oil, rosemary, pepper and chili. Place in the oven 20 minutes, add the garlic and toss and roast for about 5 more minutes more till browned.  Remove from the oven and add the olives and parsley.  The olives may provide enough salt for the dish, otherwise, add salt to taste.

 

Thanks again to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday!

PS> There are links to the items from  D'Artagnan and Marx Food... just click to get to the website and order!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Rhubarb, Playing with Pies and my 101st Post!



Dr. Lostpast complains that I never make the same thing twice.  He says the minute that I make something that he loves, he knows he will never see it again.  As a mostly meat and potatoes guy, he balks at my exuberant investigations into odd organ meats (“sheep balls, are you joking?”) and exotic ingredients (ok, I did grow black furry mold on rotting barley for 3 weeks for an ancient sauce… but Murri’s really good!). 



Fact is, there are many things I make that I have made the same way for decades from my disreputable looking (but much loved) black book of recipes (and an even earlier green book that was started in college).  They are both full of my fool-proof favorites.  I really do make some things over and over!

When I have rhubarb, I go to the book and use the recipe for rhubarb pie.  It is nearly instinctual.  It is always delicious, but I haven’t changed it for… well… decades!

It’s time to mix it up a little and try something new  (I can hear a virtual groan coming from the Doctor’s study although he doesn’t even like rhubarb pie, “Enough with the new, already!).  I decided to begin at the beginning and learn about rhubarb–– about which, I discovered, I knew nothing.




I’d really never thought about it, just ate it! I had a rhubarb patch in my backyard as a kid and had ‘rhubarb sauce’ a lot growing up.  When I got my own house, it came with a very substantial, well-established patch and I started making pies and cobblers with my diminutive forest of ruby stalks. A friend even made a remarkable dish of fried rhubarb dumplings with strawberry sauce.  I never gave the plant itself much thought and believed (in a vague, fuzzy sort of way) it was another gift from our Western European forebears, like apples and cherries (that are actually Persian and came to England with the Romans!) and it was, in a way.  Benjamin Franklin brought the first rhubarb over from England (a Banbury apothecary named Hayward obtained Russian seeds in 1762) and it took off in 19th century America, but, it is not originally from Western Europe, the site Homecooking  tells me, it was indigenous to China and Russia! 


Its binomial name is rheum rhabarbarum (genus rheum in the family of polygonaceae. it is related to tomatillos and amaranth––you can see the relationship to amaranth in the seed stalk on the rhubarb plant).  Rheum comes from the Greek rheuma, meaning "a flowing".  Rhabarbarum comes from the Greek word Rha (or the Sythian word Rhā) for the Volga River (the longest river in Europe) and barbarum (from the Greek barbaron) is "foreign",  (a comment, perhaps, on the non-Roman and thus uncivilized inhabitants of the region—although the pejorative nature of the word may be more modern…). Rhubarb grew wild along the banks of that river. Although it had already been imported to Europe in a dried form for centuries, rhubarb wasn’t introduced to Europe as a growing plant until 1608 when the Italian botanist, Prosper Alpinus began to grow rhubarb in Italy to undercut the price of the expensive imported Chinese root.  It was used as a root first, you see. The stalks were not eaten… rather the root was used medicinally as an excellent purgative by the Chinese (as far back as 2700 years ago) and later much prized in Europe for its effectiveness in curing GI issues. 

A New System of Domestic Cookery by Maria Eliza Rundell, 1807

It was not until sugar became truly available and affordable that the rhubarb stalk was used as food.  I discovered on the Kitchen Project site  (via the Oxford Companion for Food) that the first published recipe was Maria Eliza Rundell’s in 1807.  It was used in the Middle East much earlier thanks to the Silk Road trade coming from the magical kingdom of Samarkand (isn’t that the most romantically exotic sounding place?) as my friend Laura Kelly at The Silk Road Gourmet pointed out when she used it in a spectacular lamb dish.  Her post actually started me down the rhubarb road when she said it was from the East  ––  not old Europe as I had always believed.



To honor rhubarb, the plant that kept England from a scurvy epidemic during WWII (and made a generation of Britons hate the stuff mightily), a plant that is full of Calcium, Vitamin C, K and Potassium and just darn good for you, I give you two recipes.  One is an Alsatian rhubarb tart from Jean-George Vongerichten via Food and Wine ––and the other is my own recipe with some new additions of rose and ginger. 

The ginger addition began with a recipe for ginger rhubarb cobbler I saw a few weeks back, and then Sarah from All Our Fingers in the Pie had a rhubarb ginger chutney that looked wonderful.  Next I saw a rhubarb trifle with ginger beer jelly… it was like ginger and rhubarb were in the air!  And why the rose?  Simple, rose and ginger are wonderful together (Aftelier makes a delicious tea with them).  Both recipes are a great way to use the gregariously growing plant.


Rhubarb Pie

2 c strawberries (raspberries or cherries are also great… just add a little more sugar)
4 c ½ “ size pieces of rhubarb
short ¾ c sugar for a tart pie, 1 cup for a sweeter version
1/3 c flour
juice and zest of 1 lemon
1 T butter
¼ t nutmeg
¼ t allspice
1 T cassis or framboise
2 drops Aftelier rose essence or 2 t rosewater
2 drops Aftelier ginger essence   or 1 t grated ginger
1 pie crust
1 – 2 T Demerara sugar for sprinkling

Combine all the ingredients except the Demerara.  Allow to sit for an hour while you wait for the pie crust.


Put the filling on the dough and dot with butter.

Place on a foil covered cookie sheet.

Bake at 375º for 1 hour 15 minutes (maybe a bit more depending on fruit, check your oven, when crust is browned slightly and the fruit soft,  the pie is ready).  Press down on the top pieces of fruit and let the dry bits sink into the liquid.  Sprinkle with the demerara sugar just before serving so it sparkles.

Crust:

1 cup AP flour
¼ c whole-wheat flour
½ t salt
1 T sugar
2 T chopped pecans (or walnuts or almonds)
1 stick frozen butter in small chunks
2 T frozen lard in small chunks (optional)
¼ to 1/3 c ice water

Combine the flour, salt, sugar and pecans in the processor and blend. Add the butter and lard and give it a whirl or 2 till lightly blended with lots of butter bits visable.  Remove the blade and toss in the water all around the dough.  Blend gently with a fork (I think using the processor for this breaks it up too much).

Remove the dough in small handfuls you sort of squeeze together and place the handfuls on a floured surface.   Smear each handful flat (a gentle frissage) and place one on top of the other like pancakes with a bit of flour on the bottom of each (it’s what makes the crust flaky). You are not kneading the dough!  Round the pile a bit. Wrap in parchment or plastic and refrigerate for an hour.

Roll out the crust and place in a 9” pie pan, crimping the edges decoratively.  



 

Alsatian Rhubarb Tart from Food & Wine

    PASTRY
.    2 cups all-purpose flour
.    1 teaspoon sugar
.    Pinch of salt
.    1 stick (4 ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
.    1 large egg
.    2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon ice water
    FILLING
.    2 pounds rhubarb stalks, cut into 1/3-inch dice
.    1 1/3 cups sugar
.    1 cup heavy cream
.    2 large egg yolks
.    3 large egg whites
.    Pinch of salt

In a food processor, combine the flour with the sugar and salt. Add the butter and pulse just until it is the size of peas. In a small bowl, whisk the egg with the ice water. Drizzle the egg mixture over the dough and pulse just until evenly moistened; do not let it form a ball. Turn the dough out onto a work surface, gather it together and shape into a disk. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate until firm, at least 30 minutes.
In a medium bowl, toss the rhubarb with 1/2 cup of the sugar; transfer to a strainer. Set it over the bowl and refrigerate overnight to drain.
Preheat the oven to 375°. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the pastry to a 14-inch round. Fit the pastry into a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom and trim the overhanging pastry.
Line the pastry with foil and fill with pie weights, dried beans or rice. Bake the tart shell in the lower third of the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the pastry is set. Carefully remove the foil and weights and bake the shell for about 10 minutes, or until cooked and the bottom is lightly golden.
Press on the rhubarb to extract as much liquid as possible. In a bowl, toss the rhubarb with 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon of the sugar. Spread the rhubarb in the shell and bake in the center of the oven for 15 minutes, or until the rhubarb is just tender.
In a medium bowl, whisk the cream with the egg yolks and 3 tablespoons of the sugar. Pour the custard over the rhubarb and bake in the lower third of the oven for about 20 minutes, or until set.
Increase the oven temperature to 425° and position a rack in the upper third of the oven. In a large bowl, using a handheld electric mixer, beat the egg whites with the salt until firm peaks form. Gradually add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar, beating until the whites are stiff and glossy.

Spread the meringue over the tart all the way to the side. Bake in the upper third of the oven for 5 minutes, or just until the meringue is lightly browned. Let the tart cool, then remove the ring, slide the tart onto a cake plate and serve.



This is my 101st post which is a landmark of sorts.  Thanks to you all for your support!

Also, sorry if blogger is causing trouble.  Some can't leave comments at all, others must click twice to do it. I heard they are working on it so hopefully they will get it ironed out soon.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Cassoulet with Fava Beans thanks to Paula Wolfert and André Daguin




I made a traditional cassoulet last winter full of white beans, duck and pheasant confit and sausage and shared it with you HERE.  It was dark and rich and got slurped up in record time, rich as it was  –– it was inhaled!  I made it a few weeks later (back by popular demand) and same outcome.  It was like a ravenous pack of wild beasties had descended on what I thought was a huge dish.  What should have been enough for 8 was nearly gone with 3!


When I began researching cassoulet for that post, I immediately turned to Paula Wolfert and her classic “The Cooking of Southwest France” for direction.  I realized I had owned that book for 25 years –– and it looks it.  The jacket cover is tattered, the inside is splattered–– it is much-loved because it is beautifully written and researched and the recipes work perfectly, bless her.   If you don’t have it and her other brilliant books on Moroccan and Mediterranean cooking (as well as a recent one on cooking with those gorgeous clay pots) you should… they are inspiring.

Her chapter on cassoulet is magnifique,  which is as it should be since she suffered for her art on this one.  She went to the source of the dish in France and nearly tasted herself into a gastro-intestinal crisis trying all the versions… going from one recommendation to another, one town to the next.  When she included the Prosper Montagne anecdote about a shop sign that announced “Closed on Account of Cassoulet” it was an accurate reflection of toll exacted for her quest… she took to self-medicating with Alka-Seltzer to survive the dangerously delicious ordeal.  


Wolfert tested 3 classic forms from the holy trinity of cassoulet towns in Languedoc.  She tried the Castelnaudary version with pork, ham, pork sausage and pork rind, the Toulouse variety with confit d’oie (or canard) and Toulouse sausage and Carcassonne’s cassoulet with mutton (or partridge in season).  All, however, do have beans as an ingredient although the meat/bean ratio and even the type of beans vary from recipe to recipe.  She even wrestled with the breadcrumb conundrum –– classicists say never use them (they say the crust must come from breaking and reforming the natural crust 7 times, although most admitted to only doing it twice), yet she tasted great cassoulets using crumbs.  It appears in all things cassoulet there is no clear consensus. 

Flying in the face of tradition, Wolfert even tried a Cassoulet de Morue made by Lucien Vanel at his restaurant in Toulouse. It was unorthodox indeed with cod, the ubiquitous beans, seafood sausage, and mussels in a saffron scented fish broth sauced with mustard, egg and cream and a soupçon of mischief as his fishy ingredients playfully winked at the meat-based bastion of classic Toulousean cassoulet.  It was the same iconoclastic Vanel who inspired a young Ferran Adrià to march to his own drummer at about the same time Wolfert paid a visit in the early 80’s.  Vanel once said “Cuisiner, c'est donner –– Cooking is giving”.   I think Adrià and Wolfert would agree.  I believe his cod cassoulet deserves  a place at the table (and at mine soon!).


The heroically determined Wolfert ate cassoulet in Paris, Toulouse, Castelaundry, Carcassone and Landes.  She ate them in homes and restaurants, she even attended a cassoulet cook-off, but it wasn’t until she visited André Daguin at the Hotel de France in Auch that she found the best cassoulet EVER.  Daguin is the champion of traditional Gascon cuisine and the creator of magret de canard as we know it –– a gently cooked duck breast, separated from the bird. This man knows the ways of the cassoulet ––he makes the preparation sound positively liberating. In the preface to his cookbook, Le Nouveau Cuisinier Gascon he wrote: “To those intimidated by the clock: the longer a recipe cooks, the longer it gives you liberty; and the lower the heat, even though more time is needed, more energy is economized.  The longer a preparation takes, the more your hands are occupied, the more it permits your spirit to be available.” (Thanks to Kate Hill at Kitchen at Camont  for the translation!!).  You’ve got to love a man who thinks that way.  Cassoulet is SLOW food.



Daguin prepared 3 cassoulets for her.  He did the “normal” cassoulet with garlic sausage and steamed confit, a lentil version with the unusual addition of chorizo sausage and then… the winner… a cassoulet made from fresh fava beans, the Cassoulet de Féves with preserved duck and favas… “crisp on the outside soft and buttery-tender  within.  The contrast of flavors and the textures, the beans so full of spring and the Mediterranean, beans that absorbed the taste of the other ingredients and yet, almost paradoxically, maintained a fresh taste of their own –– I could not quite believe what I was eating. It seemed a miracle…. Daguin’s cassoulet of fava beans transcended definitions.  As far as I was concerned, the cassoulet war was won.”  After I read that… I was hooked.

I begrudgingly bid my time until Spring when I could get fresh favas to make this –– I had to make it –– nearly a biological imperative.  It is interesting to note that favas would have been the original bean for the dish, predating the New World beans that have become the standard. 


André’ Daguin’s daughter, D’Artagnan’s own Ariane Daguin said: "Cassoulet made with fresh fava beans is the quintessential French recipe, the origin of it all, as cassoulet appeared before the discovery of the Americas and, thus, before the bean plant came back from there.”

“Personally, it reminds me of the first days of the spring, as the dish, all winter long, can be made only with dried beans. I remember fondly the taste and crunch of the young fava beans, eaten raw right then and there, just dipped in a little coarse salt, as we sorted and peeled the bigger ones to go in the cassoulet.”


I would recommend this cassoulet as a sensational replacement for baked beans for an outdoor cookout… it will knock your guests off their lawn chairs… no fooling. Since there is more meat than beans in this version, it will feed a lot of people too.



Can you imagine it sideling up to beautiful grilled meats and vegetables on a plate with a little forest of crisp salad beside it (although traditionally it is served by itself, with perhaps a light vegetable salad before it)?  Your taste dreams will be filled with its gentle, green-tinted-ducky-piggy goodness all summer long. * Also, very inauthentically... leftovers were great with maple cornbread and broccoli rabe!

Fava Bean Cassoulet (Cassoulet des Féves) inspired by André Daguin

4 drumstick-thigh portions of Confit of Duck (split at joint) Available at D’Artagnan
8-9 pounds of fava beans in their pods (this is a lot of work... easier when watching a good movie)
1 ¾ -2 pounds small white onions, peeled
1 ½ pounds lean fresh pork belly in 1 ½” dice blanched, rinsed and dried (Available at D’Artagnan in a large piece- order by phone 800-327-8246).
salt and pepper (I used smoked salt)
1 T sugar
6 oz pork skin with ¼ “ layer of fat (Available at D’Artagnan as part of the pork belly)
1 quart chicken stock
1 leek, trimmed, washed and left whole
1 large sprig thyme, tied with the leek
6 small ribs celery
5 firm cloves garlic, peeled
1 T Armagnac (optional)
Pinches of Herbes de Provence, nutmeg, mace and allspice (optional)
1 t fresh marjoram (optional)

Warm the confit in a warm pan to melt the fat should there be any (the D’Artagnan confit has very little) and remove the duck, saving any fat you may have.

Shuck the beans and discard the pods.  You should have 2 quarts.  Slip off and discard the skins of 1 cup of the beans, cut the shoots off the rest if you see them but leave the skins on… the skins will turn dark when you cook them… which is fine.

Scrape or drain the fat off the confit and reserve if you have it, make sure you have one cup.  Supplement with more if necessary.  Sauté the onions in the reserved fat 4-5 minutes in a 5-6 quart casserole. Add the pork and pepper and sauté 5 minutes longer ( I tried to brown the pork a little so it took a few more minutes).

Stir in the peeled favas and sugar.  Cover and cook slowly for 10 minutes, mash the beans a little.

Simmer pork skin in water till supple –– 10 - 20 minutes.   Drain, roll it up and tie it with string.

Add stock, favas, pork skin, leek, celery and garlic.  Boil and skim.  Reduce heat, cover with parchment or foil pricked in 2 or 3 places. Simmer for 1½ hours

Place duck confit in a colander over steaming water and steam 10 minutes.  Remove the duck and cool then remove the meat from the bones (this is a special trick from Daguin).  Save the skin, cut into slices, separately. Cover to keep duck moist.

Preheat oven to 300º

Remove the pork skin, and slice.  Unroll and line a 3 to 3-1/2 quart casserole (one that has a good surface area for creating the crust, the classic cassole is much smaller on the bottom than the top and is made of clay) with the pork fat side down.  Put duck meat on top of that.  Remove leek, thyme and celery from the beans and transfer beans to pot, straining out and saving the liquid.  

Skim the fat and add the juices to the meat to cover… reserve remaining juices and add as needed. Add the optional herbs and spices.  Taste for salt, some confits are salty, mine was not.  Add additional salt at this point.

Cover the dish with the foil and cook 20 minutes. 

Spoon off the fat (about a cup) Add enough juices to keep the beans moist (heed this… I added more than I should have and had to remove some later). 

After an hour, remove the foil sprinkle the armagnac over the top and push down the top to blend then put back in the oven and allow crust to form which takes 30 minutes.  Mine was too liquid ( I had put in too much of the stock—I should have left 1 cup or so out) so I pushed it down and got a 2nd crust, adding another 20 minutes to the time.

Cook the reserved duck skin until crisp. Sprinkle with reserved duck skin crisps and serve





                                                Auch


Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday

Sorry to those of you who are having trouble commenting... it seems blogger is having issues that they are working on.





Thursday, June 2, 2011

Summer begins with Lilac Jelly and Croissants in a Little Corner of heaven (Vermont)


Vermont Twilight

I have a tradition on Memorial Day weekend.  For quite a few years I’ve been going to Vermont to Trev and Kathy’s farm. 


It’s a wonderful place, warm and comfortable and full of remarkable collections of interesting artifacts,  lots of room for guests (with an extra small house to catch overflow) and a consistently interesting group of friends to share it with.  They are perfect hosts.  

For me, between gardening and cooking…well, it is a great vacation because, honestly, if we aren’t preparing food or eating it we are talking about it and the kitchen was rarely idle during the 7 days I spent there. 



The grills and smokers were always being readied or being used to smoke or sear, with the grill master Trev, effortlessly preparing: smoked duck breast, ribs, steaks, salmon and pork belly (for Momofuku buns… OMG) as well as chicken for Kath’s best spicy chicken salad ever (I’ll share that with you soon!).  There were rhubarb pies and upside down cakes and tres leche cakes and mango sorbet and made a 100-odd year old recipe for a boozy Sorbet Cardinal and… well we ate like kings.



We also visited a neighbor and farmer, Doug Densmore at his farm over the holiday.  We dug (well, she dug and I lugged) ramps (to go in a roasted asparagus risotto… num), and peeked at the new calf in the field gamboling with all of his older cattle pals.  All of them were leading wonderful grass-fed lives as they dined effortlessly in rolling, insanely lush green pastures.






We visited the newly arrived little piglets… happily rooting in the dirt and schnerfling down their milky lunch.  And I got a souvenir from my visit –– a ½ gallon of hearty B-Grade and a pint of his sublime Fancy maple syrup –– so good that swanky Brooklyn eateries are importing it for their pancakes, waffles and desserts (he ships anywhere - give him a call at Densmore Family Sugarhouse 802-685-3862). He is part of a long family line of farmers.  He’s passionate about his heritage and his work, and just the kind of person you would want growing your food… he does everything the right way. We need to support this kind of family farm (and he makes great syrup at a great price… so no sacrifice to do it).

After I finished my yearly weeding of the asparagus patch (and paid for it by becoming a perfect candidate for an extra on a bad 50’s mutant movie thanks to 1000 black fly bites), I set to making another batch of Lilac Jelly.  I had made a tiny batch last year from a recipe I’d seen and saved from Michael Ruhlman’s site.  It was a recipe from an Alaskan baker named Carri and just loved it.  Floral jellies are as old as can be and recipes like it can be found in antique English cookbooks (sans the pectin of course!). I handed it out to my perfume pals, shipped it out to Sarah in Canada and to my favorite scent goddess, Mandy Aftel at Aftelier.  It was a hit with everyone.  At its heart is a nectary note that is delicate and elegant.  It would be great on berries or trifles or…. Croissant!  I made a pure pig of myself and poured it into a dish and dunked the croissant and when that was gone I used my finger to get every last drop… EVIL!  








I think you’ll find the jelly with the croissants  (made with a sexy tease of duck fat) will take you away from the hustle of the world and let you find a moment’s serenity as you breath country Spring air, perfumed with lilacs and the buttery scent of baking… Heaven.



Lilac Jelly from Carri’s Recipe

2 ½ c apple juice or pear juice or white wine or champagne- I was even thinking plain water would work.  I decided that the wine/champagne or water was the best... the flower flavor came through better
2 cup packed fresh petals…no stems… this is a little tedious but worth it.
4 c sugar (I used organic… I like the flavor)
½ cup lemon juice
1 package pectin for syrup like consistency, 3 oz for thicker jelly

Scald the liquid and add the petals.  Remove from heat and let cool to room temp and strain (I thought for the best flavor, the time to remove the petals was when it was warm… so check… it can get a little bitter if you wait too long...like steeping fine tea.)

Add 2 cups of the liquid, the sugar and lemon and boil over high heat

When sugar has dissolved and there is a rolling boil,  add the pectin and stir vigorously to blend, being sure to scrape the bottom.

Pour into sterilized jars.

PS  if you want color.. add a little red wine.. It is golden and not purple in the least although some dark lilacs will add a bit of pink to it. 






 Croissants with a touch of Duck Fat

8 oz butter, softened
3 T duck fat
8 oz milk
½ oz yeast
1 T sugar
1 ½ t salt
14 oz (2 ½ to 3 cups) bread flour
1 egg, mixed

Roll the butter out to a flat square, about 8” and refrigerate.

Scald the milk let cool and add the yeast, sugar and  duck fat and salt. Then add the flour slowly and knead a little.  Roll it into a rectangle and chill. Remove from the fridge, flour your board (with each turn)lay out the dough and place the butter on about 2/3 of the dough.  Fold the extra dough over it like a letter and roll it out as a rectangle. Fold it again as a letter and put in the fridge to chill at least ½ an hour.   Remove and roll again and fold.  Do this 3 more times… allowing the rest between each turn. I always kept the folded side to the right but I don't know if this is necessary like it is with puff pastry. I let the dough rest overnight, but you don’t have to. 

Roll it out into a rectangle and then cut into long triangles about 6” long… I read somewhere it should resemble the Eiffel Tower. There will be 10-12) 

Tug at the long end to lengthen, take a small notch out of the middle of the thick end and place the little piece of dough you’ve just cut plus a bit of leftover dough (size of a small marble?) just above the notch then roll them up from the fat end and place on a parchment-lined pan after tugging the ends to form a crescent.

Let rise in a moist place –– this is important –– I  sprayed the underside of the pan I was using as a cover.

When they are puffed up nicely, use egg wash gently on the pastries.  Put them into a 425º oven with a small plate of boiling water at the bottom and lower the temp to 400º for 10 minutes.  After that, turn the pan and cook at 375º for another 10 minutes or until they are golden brown.

***I must thank my friend Ken Albala for inspiring me to make croissants... they aren't hard at all... he was soooo right.



Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodie Friday!