Madeira & Madeira Cake

I know when I talk Madeira, I usually speak about cooking with it, not drinking it. That probably won’t change anytime soon since I am no great expert but thanks to Mannie Berk at The Rare Wine Company (who invited me) and to the people at IVBAM (Madeira’s institute for wine and crafts), I got to taste 40, count ‘em, 40 madeiras at the snazzy Astor Center at Astor Wine in NYC.

Let me tell you -- for the uninitiated, wine tasting is not for sissies. I still can’t bring myself to spit (that’s what the ominous black bucket on the right is for) but even with small sips… after that many wines I was exhausted. Probably concentrating that closely played a part as well. It was all for a good cause…this is one great wine, I know I’ve told you this before.

I tasted young, old, dry and sweet with the differing personalities of the 7 houses that make the wine on the Portuguese island of Madeira off the coast of Africa. The micro-climate and basaltic soil make for an ideal grape haven. There are many grapes used to make the different varieties of wine (Malvasia, Bual, Verdelho, Sercial & Tinta Negra being the best known) and these are planted strategically on the various parts of the island. Five centuries of experience have told them which location is best for which grape.

I got to speak with representatives of many of the 7 producers. I asked a representative from Henriques e Henriques about what they eat with Madeira and they said Bolo de Mel, a classic sweet cake that is much like gingerbread. It is made around Christmas and is meant to be eaten by hand (never to be cut with a knife). And they make a lot of it…enough to last all year long.

Since it is summer, I decided I would hold off on making this dark spicy recipe and instead make the English version of Madeira Cake that has been popular for a few hundred years.

Lighter and lemony, I found a spectacular recipe from Chef Michael Caines at the beautiful Gidleigh Park in Devon, England (a little more research for my England trip). He makes his mum’s recipe for the cake (that she found in an old Good Housekeeping book). It is a stunner, like a light pound cake soaked in madeira scented apricot and tangy lemon, oh my! Best of all I get to sneak a little Madeira into it (which is not traditional -- the English version, and Caines' version is wine-free) because of the beautiful apricot glaze that I found. Let me tell you it is great with the wine or with tea… a little Earl Gray, mmm. Heaven.

Lemon Madeira Cake based on Michael Caines’s Recipe

Serves 8

Zest and juice of a lemon

5 eggs *

350g caster sugar (1 ¾ C)

Pinch of salt

150ml double cream (5 oz)

275g plain flour (almost 2 c at 140g a cup)

5 g baking powder (1 t)

100g butter, melted (a little less than ½ c)

A little apricot glaze ****

100g icing sugar (7/8c)

A little extra butter and flour for the tin

Method

1 Preheat the oven to 160C/gas3 (320º). Grease a cake tin with butter and dust with flour (the recipe called for a 12”x 4”x3.5” pan but I made 2, one smaller one in a 6" x 5" decorative mold and the other in a 5" x 9" loaf pan). Put the lemon zest, eggs, sugar and salt into a mixer and whizz at top speed for about 10 minutes until the mixture thickens and turns a lovely pale yellow.

2 Fold in the cream. Sieve the flour and baking powder together and fold into the mixture, then add the melted butter, again folding it in carefully.

3 Spoon into the cake tin and put into the oven for 1 hour or until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean (the smaller mold was 45 minutes).

4 Turn out and cool on a rack, but leave the oven on. When cold, brush the cake all over with apricot jam.

5 To make the glaze, put the icing sugar and lemon juice in a pan on the stove until the sugar melts and the mixture turns syrupy, then brush this all over the top and sides of the cake and return it to the oven for 30seconds.

*the eggs from Grazin Angus Acres in Union Square make everything the best color...they are so yellow~

****Apricot Glaze

As for the glaze, it comes from a century-old recipe from La Cuisine Française. The author, François Tanty, was trained under Careme, the most famous 19th century French Chef. Tanty then served as Chef de Cuisine to Emperor Napoleon III and Chef to the Czar of Russia; he also was proprietor of the Grand Hotel and the Restaurant Dussaux at St. Petersburg, and Purveyor to the French and Russian Armies says the indispensable resource, Feeding America . How’s that for a CV! This world-class toast and jam is about as good as it gets. If you don’t have apricots at hand, just use 2 parts apricot jam to one part Madeira. You will be astounded how good this is for breakfast or tea or an incredibly quick dessert for last minute guests.

I did a guest blog for the generous and amazing Lazaro. Do stop by and have a look. If you have never seen his blog, Lazaro Cooks scan back and enjoy!!!

Thanks to Gollum for hosting another Foodie Friday

My next post will come from England!!! Thanks to all of you who clicked on the ads!!!

A Scottish Grouse meets an 1850 Madeira and a dream is realized

Ruffled Grouse 1824 Audubon

“The Red Grouse is never far from heather and its Gaelic name is Coileach-fraoich (Cock of the Heather). No one really knows where the name Grouse originated from – it could come from two old French words: groucier - to murmur, grumble or greoche – speckled”, reports the delightful Sue Stephen’s at Ladies with Bottle

Grouse are Galliformes like chickens and range in size from 11 oz to 14 lbs! Stephens says they are mostly vegetarians “living on heather shoots, seeds and insects”. This diet gives them their distinctive flavor. Their feathers (especially those of the black grouse) were popular as ornaments for hats during the Victorian age (and are still used on hunting hats) although grouse are most prized today as a game bird. Hunters refer to the opening of Grouse season in the UK as “The Glorious 12th” (of August) and the date has been the start of grouse season since the Game Act was passed in 1831.
Galliformes go waaaay back, 56 million years and more (don’t you love this fossil?)

Palaeortyx skeleton, Muséum national d'histoire naturelle, Paris

I think most of us think of grouse as the prey of the leisure-hunting class in so many British novels and Hollywood films.

Lord Saville by Spy 1908

The hunt begins with dozens of ‘grouse beaters’ crashing about the brush to frighten the poor birds into taking flight so they can be shot by sportsman in tweedy Plus-fours (at least that’s what they wear in 40’s Hollywood B&W hunting parties). Dining on pheasant and quail and grouse served from giant silver domed dishes from sideboards the size of airplane runways has come to represent a certain lifestyle of upper-class British society that is fast disappearing. I just had to try some.


Red Grouse

What started all this grousing??? Madeira! 

Mannie Berk by C. M. Glover for The New York Times

Those of you who have read my blog for a while know that Mannie Berk at The Rare Wine Company has been my Madeira Genie, granting my wish to cook with antique wines (as was done in centuries past when they were an indispensable ingredient for legendary chefs like Carême). In an exchange of emails I told him I dreamed to try a pre-Civil War Madeira. He told me he had an 1850 (that had been in cask for 100 years before it was bottled in the 1960’s or 70’s). I fell on the floor when a small sample arrived in the post. When I tasted it, I heard supernal music (think Caruso and Ancona as their voices join and rise heavenward in the Pearl Fisher Duet (LISTEN HERE) — close your eyes as you listen to the century old recording, the pellucid voices rising through a mist of sound — time stops for a moment— are you with me?? YES, THAT GOOD). To make a dish with this celestial elixir I had to find something that could complement the wine’s great age and ethereal beauty.

I once had a pheasant in England that had been hung until it dropped from its hook. The flavor was dark and mysterious as if legend and ancient moors and forests had come together to cast a spell over its succulent flesh.


Heather Fields by Gordon McBryde

I thought that grouse, redolent of heather, might have some of that quality and would be a perfect foil to the Madeira. A foie gras sauce with that Madeira would be the alpha and omega.

My Grouse comes from Scotland via the lovely people at D’Artagnan. I have come to rely on them for game birds and they are my Jersey neighbors.

Ariane Daugin

D'Artagnan was founded by Ariane Daugin, the daughter of Andre Daugin who ran Gascony’s famous Hotel de France in Auch. They provided the grouse and the ducks for the stock as well as the foie gras for the sauce. We could say this meal is a D’Artagnan production!

Since it was game, I wrote to the Game Guru Hank at Honest Food (2010 James Beard Best Blog Finalist btw, KUDOS!!!!!) He recommended brining. He also reminded me these are lean mean little flying machines that need help in the fat department so they don’t dry out in the cooking process. The wonderful cookbook author and teacher Madeline Kamman had a genius idea about frozen nut oil under the skin that her great-Grandmother had used with guinea hens that I decided to use on my grouse. I went to soooo many UK game sites to check with the masters of the moors for their suggestions about preparing my little treasures. In the end the great chefs Pierre Koffman and Eric Chavot had great ideas for the cooking grouse. What I ended up with was my distillation of many wonderful recipes with some ideas of my own that I hope you will enjoy. Although it sounds daunting, it is really quite simple and could be used on cornish hen if you can’t manage a grouse (although you should!) with an increase in cooking time.



Grouse with a Foie Gras and Madeira Sauce & Blackberry Compote for 2

Grouse ( I can see this recipe with Cornish hen or pheasant too!)

2 Scottish grouse from D'Artagnan (Buy them HERE)
Brine*
1 T hazelnut oil
1 anchovy, mashed
1 t grated shallot
½ t fresh thyme
1 T foie gras
¼ t pepper
3 t. heather honey
1 T vegetable oil
**Madeira sauce
***Blackberry compote

Take 1 T hazelnut oil and grated shallot, anchovy, thyme, pepper and 1 T foie gras and 1 t heather honey and blend. Put in the freezer for 30 minutes or until firm.

Remove the grouse from the brine and pat dry. Let stand 15 minutes while heating the oven to 400º as you insert the semi-solid oil under the breast and leg (the leg is tough to do—they are little birds) of the grouse. Put the remainder in the cavity with 2 t of heather honey. Add salt and pepper over all.

Heat the oil in a large ovenproof frying pan over a medium-high heat. Add the grouse and fry for 3-4 minutes, turning regularly, until the birds are browned on all sides. If you lose any of the oil from the bird as you do this… spoon it back in before you put it into the oven.

Arrange each grouse so that it is resting on one breast.

Transfer to the oven for 3-4 minutes, then turn the birds onto their other breast and roast for a further 3 minutes. Turn the grouse onto their backs and roast for 4 more minutes. 

Remove the pan from the oven. Remove the grouse from the pan, place on a warm plate and cover loosely with foil. Set aside to rest in a warm place for 10 minutes.

Serve with the Madeira sauce poured over the bird and the compote separately or on the plate.

*Brine for the grouse from Honest food

1/4 cup salt
4 cups water
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon crushed juniper berries
1 rosemary sprig

Boil and cool and brine the birds for 12 hours. Enough for 2 small birds

**Madeira Sauce (this can be enough for 2 but it is so good you may want to double it)

2 T Butter
sprig of thyme
2 shallots, minced
1/3 c demi-glace (duck or chicken)
1 T foie gras (D'Artagnan brilliantly sells frozen pieces that can be broken off and used for sooo many things!!!)
2 t. Boston Bual Madeira (I used that 1850 Verdelho)

Add 2 T butter to the skillet in which the grouse cooked and add the shallots and thyme. Cover and cook for 2 minutes. Add duck Demi-glace. Add the Foie Gras one teaspoon at a time, whisking each addition thoroughly into the demi glace to achieve a silky smooth consistency, strain. Add 2 T Madeira just before serving.

Plate the grouse, nap with pan sauce and blackberries.



 ***Blackberry compote* based on Hotel Cipriani recipe

1 cup blackberries
3-4 T heather honey
6 juniper berries, crushed
1 “ piece cinnamon
2 cloves
Zest of ½ a lime

Combine and cook until berries are soft. Serve warm or at room temperature

*You may remember this Sherwood Forest combination… I just had to use it again!

This can be served with:

Tom Kitchin Celeriac Puree From Great British Menu

1 celeriac, peeled, finely chopped
milk, double cream to cover celeriac

2 t fresh horseradish


Place the celeriac into a small pan, cover with equal amounts of milk and cream and cook until soft. Once soft, drain, discarding the milk and cream. Purée using a hand-blender until smooth. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste. Add horseradish.

Also great with this is steamed sugar snaps and baked beets tossed with 1 T verjus or sherry vinegar and 1 T hazelnut oil

This re

Grouse with Foie Gras and Madeira and a Blackberry Sauce

Ancient Roman Asparagus and Grouse Tart

Scottish Pigeon with Gooseberry Sauce

Scottish Partridge with Port Wine Sauce

Sea Urchin with Madeira, Cream & Pasta

The Washington Post’s Tom Sietsema calls sea urchin "the foie gras of the ocean". I agree with him, but it is also so much more. I once got a date to eat urchin with me when he did not want to get near the “vile stuff” by telling him it was achingly voluptuous and its taste filled your mouth with the pure soul of the ocean.

I wasn’t making that up.

Purple Sea Urchin, SMBayKeeper

The name urchin is an old name for the round spiny hedgehogs that sea urchins resemble and is used in many cultures (riccio in Italian, erizo in spanish) to describe the bristly Echinoderm.

Hedgehog in the palm of a hand, defines cute

Sea otters feed on sea urchins.

Sea Otter

They are found in the North Atlantic and on the West Coast of America as well. In Maine, sea urchins are impolitely known as whores' eggs. In the Orkney Islands of Scotland (home of night-less summers and ‘simmer dim’) urchin was once used instead of butter. *

Julia Moskin of the NYT’s tells us “Sea urchins evoke the flavor of caviar, the trembly texture of panna cotta and the briny but bracing strangeness that comes with eating live oysters.”

Sea Urchin

“They are one of the few remaining delicacies that must be harvested from the wild and cannot, for most purposes, be frozen. They are hand-cut by professional scuba divers — or, in some parts of Korea, by women who train from childhood to hold their breath and dive in cold water. These haenyo, or sea women, dive as deep as 50 feet with no gear other than a mask and a knife, gathering sea urchins, abalone, seaweed and conch. (Women are better able to tolerate cold water, and it became traditional for them to support their families by selling their catch.)"

Urchin in Shell

“An aphrodisiac in Japan for thousands of years, sea urchin, or uni, as the Japanese call it, is not the roe. It is the gonads of this hermaphrodite sea creature that are scooped out of the urchin’s spiny shell in five custard-like, golden sections.

From a nutritional standpoint, sea urchin is one of the most prominent culinary sources of anandamide, a cannabinoid neurotransmitter. Does this mean that eating uni will produce a similar effect to ingesting marijuana? Probably not, but it is possible that uni activates the dopamine system in the brain, humans’ built in “reward circuit” reports Eat Something Sexy

I really felt validated when I read that. The sublime taste and texture of urchin always puts me in the mood for romance!

Eric Ripert at Bernadin has a great recipe for a sea urchin pasta sauce that Robin at Caviar and Codfish blogged about. The recipe was in Eric Ripert's book On the Line. Did I mention I love Eric Ripert?I remember particularly a soup at Bernadin with hot and cold urchin… I nearly passed out from pleasure. Eric Ripert is a genius.

I just had to try that pasta and it was delicious… just not as delicious as it could be because my urchin wasn’t as good as it could be… a little old, I think. Claudia at CookEatFret raved about Catalina Offshore Products So I gave them a call and was not disappointed. They have some of the best urchin I have ever seen in the US or Japan. It is fresh and firm and full of that briny sensual quality that I have loved when I’ve had it at great restaurants. The stuff I had a few weeks ago was a pale ghost compared to this (and it arrives the next day after you order it!).

Sea Urchin Pasta

I loved Ripert’s pasta recipe but had an idea that I wanted to try. I made the sauce as the recipe dictated, but I took 4 of the urchin, chopped them roughly and soaked them for 2 hours in 2 T of madeira and tossed it in the sauce. It was heaven. This dish is pure seduction.

For the pasta, only the best would do so I made the The French Laundry Cookbook pasta recipe.

Sea Urchin Pasta based on an Eric Ripert Recipe

Serves 3-4

1/2 cup sea urchin ( I ordered the Golden)

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened (or 1/3 c rich heavy cream + 2T butter)

1 tablespoon water (skip the water if you use the cream)

Fine sea salt

Espelette pepper powder

The Pasta

8 ounces fresh linguine, 4 oz dry

To Finish

1-1/2 teaspoons thinly sliced chives

1 T chervil leaves

1 tablespoon freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Fine sea salt and freshly ground white pepper

1/2 lemon

4 pieces of urchin steeped in 2 T Madeira ( Boston Bual - but I used a little 1937 Verdelho)

The Garnish

1 ounce caviar (I used golden whitefish he used Iranian osetra)

For the sea urchin sauce, puree the sea urchin roe in a blender. Pass it through a fine-mesh sieve, and return to the blender. Blend the puree with the softened butter or cream.

To finish the sauce, bring the water to a boil in a small saucepan. Gradually whisk in the sea urchin butter, about 1 tablespoon at a time(skip the water if you are using cream-just heat the sauce, do not boil). Season with salt and Espelette pepper and keep warm.

When ready to serve, cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water until al dente; drain.

Put the chives in a medium stainless steel bowl, add the warmed sauce and Parmesan cheese, and mix well. Season with salt and white pepper if necessary. Gently toss the pasta with the sauce and add the marinated urchin.

To serve, mound it in the center of a small bowl. Repeat three times. Squeeze the lemon juice over the pasta and place 1-1/2 teaspoons of the caviar on top of each mound of pasta. Serve immediately.

Based on Pasta Dough by Thomas Keller (this is more than enough… make it and use the rest for another great dish)

3/4 cup plus 2 T all-purpose flour

3 large egg yolks

1 large egg

1 teaspoons olive oil

1/2 tablespoon milk

Mound the flour on a board or other surface and create a well in the center, pushing the flour to all sides to make a ring with sides about 1 inch wide. Make sure that the well is wide enough to hold all the eggs without spilling.

Pour the egg yolks, egg, oil, and milk into the well. Use your fingers to break the eggs up. Still using your fingers, begin turning the eggs in a circular motion, keeping them within the well and not allowing them to spill over the sides. This circular motion allows the eggs to gradually pull in flour from the sides of the well; it is important that the flour not be incorporated too rapidly, or your dough will be lumpy. Bring the dough together with the palms of your hands and form it into a ball. It will look flaky but will hold together.

Knead the dough by pressing it, bit by bit, in a forward motion with the heels of your hands rather than folding it over on itself as you would with a bread dough. The dough should feel moist but not sticky. Let the dough rest for a few minutes while you clean the work surface.

Dust the clean work surface with a little flour. Knead the dough by pushing against it in a forward motion with the heels of your hands. Form the dough into a ball again and knead it again. Keep kneading in this forward motion until the dough becomes silky-smooth. The dough is ready when you can pull your finger through it and the dough wants to snap back into place. The kneading process can take anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes. Even if you think you are finished kneading, knead it for an extra ten minutes; you cannot overknead this dough. It is important to work the dough long enough to pass the pull test; otherwise, when it rests, it will collapse.

Double-wrap the dough in plastic wrap to ensure that it does not dry out. Let the dough rest for at least 30 minutes and up to 1 hour before rolling it through a pasta machine. The dough can be made a day ahead, wrapped and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before proceeding. Put it through your pasta machine to the last level and make linguine.

Thanks to Gollum for hosting Foodies Friday!

*As always, most facts come from Wikipedia unless otherwise noted, and for that we are eternally grateful. The few things I know myself I contribute humbly to the great knowledge pool of the blog world.

Apple Mousse from Ullapool, Scotland

Paul Hart photo of Ullapool

This mousse is another one of my forever favorites. It comes from what I remember as being a Brigadoon-like town in the Scottish Highlands on the shore of Loch Broom and surrounded by the mountain An Teallach to the south. The name of the town, Ullapool (or Ulapul) is Gaelic for Wolf Farm…or Norse for Wool Farm. It is known for its art and culture and has been the location for many a film since it has changed little in 100 or so years (thanks to the railroad not going through) and for having been designed in 1788 by the noted bridge builder and architect, Thomas Telford (nicknamed the Colossus of Roads). *

Ullapool Church built by Thomas Telford in 1829

Apple mousse has been a favorite in one form or another in the British Isles for a very long time. The Elizabethans had the wonderfully named Dyschfull of Snowe that had whipped cream and egg whites, sugar and rosewater and the apple in the center of the dish stuck with evergreen. Here is the original (I know I’ve been at this too long when I read Elizabethan English smoothly!) from The Proper Booke of Cokerye, a 16^th c cookbook.

To make a dyschefull of 
Snowe

Take a pottell of swete thycke creame
 and the whytes of eyghte egges, and beate 
them altogether wyth a spone, then putte 
them in youre creame and a saucerfull of
 Rosewater, and a dyshe full of Suger wyth all, 
then take a stycke and make it cleane, and 
than cutte it in the ende foure square, and 
ther with beate all the afore sayde thynges
 together, and ever as it ryseth take it
of and put it into a Collaunder, this done
 take one apple and set it in the myddes of it,
and a thicke bushe of Rosemary, and set it
in the myddes of the platter, then cast your
 Snowe uppon the Rosemarye and fyll your 
platter therwith. And yf you have wafers
 caste some in wyth all and thus serve them 
forthe.

The Germans have something similar made with egg white named aptly apfelschaum which is apple foam in English and which is what it is like… light sweet and delicious. This recipe is not light but it is fabulous and so delicious. My memories of Scotland are fond indeed although I haven’t been back in many a year. Every time I taste this mousse I'm back again!

Midcoast Fine Antiques of Maine

When I looked at the apple mousse, my first thought was “It is beige”. I always tell my art directors that 'beige = death' on film… it’s a personal prejudice, I know. So I used my Bristol Blue Rummer for an antidote to beige and then I had this crazy idea in my head to do a riff on a Victorian tortoiseshell comb.

The hitch is that the caramel melts so don’t stick them in till you are ready to serve if you decide to try them! They are pretty easy to do simply but if you are feeling inspired you can go nuts! You can make two batches of caramel… one dark and one light and combine them on the silpat to give a real tortoiseshell look. Otherwise, let’s face it… apple mousse isn’t a stunner visually (but wait until you taste it!!). Use a cup of sugar for each color.

Apple Mousse – Based on a recipe from Royal Hotel, Ullapool, Scotland

Serves 4-6

7 c apples ( I used a combination of sweet and tart from Salt Point, NY's Terhune Orchard via Union Square Farmer's Market) peeled and cored in 1” pieces ** you can add spice to the applesauce if you wish… a pinch of cinnamon and star anise is lovely (but make sure to remove the anise before pureeing). I find with the madeira that it is best without spice. Use 2 cups of apple puree.

2 T butter

3T water

l ½ tsp. gelatin (2 T water) *** for you vegetarians, just make the applesauce a little thicker and skip the gelatin… it is still great… I have done this when I made it and realized I had run out of gelatin!!!!

1/3 C honey-mild as you can find it. (I use Champlain Valley Apiaries)

1 C cream (Milk Thistle Farms is the best cream ever!)

1 -2 T scotch or 3 T madeira (Boston Bual or NY Malmsey)

Topping

½ C pecans or walnuts

2 T butter

2 T maple syrup

Melt 2 T butter, add apples and 3T water and cook covered for 15 minutes until apples are soft. Puree.

Sprinkle gelatin over 2 T water and soften 5 minutes. Add honey and Scotch (or Madeira) to the warm apples with the gelatin and cool. Beat cream till stiff and blend into the apple mix. Add to glasses and chill.

The topping is my addition to the recipe: Sauté nuts in butter till fragrant. Add maple syrup (and another splash of liquor if you would like) and sprinkle on top of the mousse and serve. It’s nice if the mousse is cold and the nuts are warm.

I’ve made this with Scotch forever… but I tried it with the Madeira and was crazy about it. I got to use a tiny bit of The Rare Wine Company's 1922 Bual in a serving and it was amazing.

*Many of the facts are from Wikipedia or the Ullapool Tourism Bureau

Bristol Blue Rummer, 1820's

Another great Foodie Friday with Gollum!!! See her green cupcakes!