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.

Valentine's Duck Breast with Orange Rose Madeira Sauce

Miniature of the "Ménagier de Paris", 15th century

While thinking about an appropriate dish to serve for Valentine’s Day, I came upon a wonderful recipe with the soul of a rose in its sauce. It comes from one of the earliest cookbooks, The Goodman of Paris (Le Menagier de Paris) from 1393 that was written by an older husband for his young wife. In it are remarkably thorough lessons on keeping house, being a good wife and hostess, gardening and even sexual advice as well as fine recipes (more like suggestions since ingredients and instructions are loosely provided). Janet Hinson translates the passage:

"Item: partridge must be plucked dry, and cut off the claws and head, put in boiling water, then stick with venison if you have any, or bacon, and eat with fine salt, or in cold water and rose water and a little wine, or in three parts rose water, orange juice and wine, the forth part."


Menagier de Paris, 15th C Copy, Lancelots.ex

I thought about this for a spell and decided to mix it up a little and use duck, another fowl with an affinity for oranges.



Both Delmonico's chef Ranhoffer (I wrote about him here) and Antoine Careme use Sauce Bigarade for their duck, a bitter orange sauce that was traditionally made with a floury espangnole sauce to thicken it ( I included the recipe for bigarade for you to see the old style sauce). I decided I wanted it a little brighter and then added a bit of rose absolute to honor Le Menagier recipe and Valentine's Day. Think of it as distilling 500 years of cooking!


James Auduban, 1821-34

And then we come to the duck. While researching antique American menus, I found canvasback duck appeared frequently as the sine qua non of duck… often costing twice as much as other things on a menu (that and terrapin). I really wanted to use this duck. Further digging found some interesting facts.


William Vinje for USFWS

The name of the lovely creature in Latin, Aythya valisineria, is based on its eating habits… it loves wild celery, Vallisneria Americana which is what gave it its extraordinary flavor (perhaps Heston Blumenthal thought of this when he was feeding his Christmas goose fennel pollen!). What I also didn’t know is that its popularity nearly drove it to extinction.



An article from an 1890 NYT tells the story of the dilemma and the efforts of sportsmen to reverse the trend and save them for future generations. I was amazed that such thinking goes back so far. Thanks to them, however, sportsmen today can still bring a few of them home from hunts and taste their delicious meat… not as delicious as before however since the wild celery is nearly gone… a victim of encroaching civilization on its habitats.

Hank at Honest Food has tasted a west coast canvasback and raves about its flavor in his wonderful blog. I have never had the pleasure but hope one day to have a morsel -- just not this time.
I decided to use a lovely magret du canard from a moulard duck, at the suggestion of Hank via the lovely purveyors D’Artagnan (that also happen to be neighbors of mine!)

I do not have words to describe the dish... it was that good... swoon good, to die for good. The caramel with the reduced orange and madeira and the rose... you will think you have entered sauce heaven!!!

Duck with Orange Rose Madeira Sauce and Gingered Sweet Potatoes on Radicchio
for 2-4

2 duck breasts (12 oz or more muskovy or the lighter 8 oz moulard)*****
salt & Pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF.

With a sharp knife score the fat of the duck breasts in a criss-cross pattern. Season the duck with salt and pepper. Warm a cast iron skillet over medium heat Place the duck breasts, fat side down, in the skillet to render the fat, about 6 minutes. Turn the duck breasts over and sear for 1 minute. Turn the fat side down again and place the skillet into the oven to roast for 7 minutes, until breasts are medium rare. Rest them for 5 minutes then slice.

***** Duck breasts can come in smaller sizes than the hefty muskovy. If you are using a smaller size (8 oz) only roast in the skillet in the oven for 4-5 minutes.

**This recipe for the duck breast comes from the food network. It had been in my files and I did not know who to attribute it to. now I do.


Blood Orange Rose Madeira Sauce

2 Blood Oranges (you can of course use regular oranges) 

1/4 c sugar (I use Whole Food's Organic)
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1/2 c Charleston Sercial Special Madeira
1T 1922 D'Oliveira Bual (optional)
2 Drops Rose Absolute or 2 t. rosewater or to taste

1 shallot, finely chopped 

1 sprig of marjoram if you have it, thyme if you do not 

1 c chicken stock
2 T unsalted chilled butter
Juice of 1/2 lemon

Zest one orange. Blanch for 5 minutes in boiling water, drain and set aside. Squeeze the juice from the oranges and set aside. Dissolve the sugar in a heavy pan over moderate heat and cook to a deep caramel. Immediately remove the pan from the heat and pour in the vinegar.

Stir in the madeira and return the pan to the heat. Dissolve the sugar, add the shallots and marjoram, then bring the madeira to a good simmer. Reduce to about 1/2 of what it was, then pour in the stock and 3/4 of the orange juice. Bring to the boil, reduce the heat and reduce by half. Strain through a fine sieve and discard the shallots and marjoram.

Start whisking in the butter, a piece at a time, then stir in the orange zest. Simmer for a few minutes. Add the lemon and reserved orange juice to taste (the sauce is sweet and the juices will brighten it). Add the rose absolute (or rosewater) and old madeira at this point... do not overheat. Slice your duck and pour the sauce over the slices.

Thanks to Gordon for inspiration for this!

Sweet Potatoes with ginger and lime for 2 to 4

1 large sweet potato
1 t. grated ginger
zest of 1 lime and juice of 1/2 the lime

4 T cream

1/4 t salt
Cook the sweet potatoes till tender then rice them. Add the rest of the ingredients then whip.
For those of you who want to try it old school:

Sauce bigarade: Antonin Careme's recipe:

1 bigarade orange (or a bitter orange).
1.5 dl of finished espagnole sauce*.
20g butter.
a pinch of cracked pepper.

Cut the zest of the orange making sure that there are no white bits on it. Blanch them briefly. Press the orange.

In a thick bottom pot, place the orange zests and the juice and reduce by half.
Add the espagnole sauce and and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and allow to simmer for 15 minutes. Skim from time to time. Add the cracked pepper and strain through a fine chinois.

Just before serving, whisk in the butter

The Epicurean's Chickens a la Nantaise Sauted

Charles Ranhofer, Celebrity Chef of the 19^th Century

Charles Ranhofer was one of America’s first Celebrity chefs and reigned at the end of the 19^th century at Delmonicos restaurant in NYC. Although he died in 1896, his amazing 3000 recipe cookbook, The Epicurean, a Complete Treatise of Analytical and Practical Studies on the Culinary Art, Including Table and Wine Service , has kept his reputation alive.

"Ranhofer was sent to Paris at the age of 12 to begin his training by studying pastry-making, and at 16 became the private chef for the prince d'Hénin, Comte d'Alsace. In 1856 he moved to New York to become the chef for the Russian consul, and later worked in Washington, D.C. and New Orleans. He returned to France in 1860 for a short time, where he arranged balls for the court of Napoleon III at the Tuileries Palace, but then came back to New York to work at what was then a fashionable location, Maison Doree. In 1862, Lorenzo Delmonico hired him for Delmonico's, and it was there that Ranhofer made his real fame, though others say that he made the fame of the restaurant as well. At that time, Delmonico's was considered the finest restaurant in the United States. He was the chef at Delmonico's until his retirement in 1896, except for a short hiatus from 1876 and 1879 when he owned the "Hotel American" at Enghien-les-Bains," said Wikipedia.

Ranhofer invented or made famous a number of dishes that Delmonico's was known for, such as Lobster Newburg & Baked Alaska and had a talent for naming dishes after famous or prominent people--particularly those who dined at Delmonico's--as well as his friends, and events of the day.

One of the dishes from Ranhof’s cookbook, Chickens a la Nantaise Sauted is a real winner (Nantaise meaning in the style of Nantes, a city in Brittany). Although the measurements are a little sketchy, it was fairly easy to navigate with a little extra work. The results were fabulous. The chicken has that rich old-fashioned taste… and those croquettes are a brilliant idea!!!

Chickens a la Nantaise

2 boneless chicken breasts (the original recipe called for pieces)

2 T butter

½ c Mushroom broth*

½ c Madeira Wine (Charleston Sercial)

1 ½ c béchamel sauce*

½ c cream

3 small artichoke hearts

2 thin slices ham

1 egg, beaten

1 c breadcrumbs

6 jumbo shrimp, shelled and deveined

2 tsp lemon juice

2 tsp chopped herbs

Chop the artichoke hearts and ham into small dice. Season with salt and pepper and moisten with ½ c béchamel. Make into tablespoon size croquettes and freeze for 20 minutes as they will be very sloppy.

Take them out and roll them into the egg, then the breadcrumbs and refrigerate till ready to use.

Get oil heated to 350º to deep-fry the croquettes.

Fry the chicken breasts in 1T butter till gently browned and nearly done and remove. Deglaze the pan with the mushroom broth and Madeira and reduce while scraping off the brown bits in the pan. Add the béchamel and the cream. Return the chicken to the pan and simmer the chicken gently till cooked through.

Sauté the shrimps in butter, add lemon and herbs. Keep warm and set aside.

Fry the croquettes in the oil till brown.

Place the croquettes and shrimp decoratively on the plate with the breast. Spoon the sauce over all. Serve with mashed potatoes.

Serves 2, generously

Mushroom Essence

Put one pound of mushrooms cut into quarters in a saucepan with the juice of 1/2 a lemon, salt and a pint of stock. Cook for 10 minutes, covered. Cool and strain. Use the delicious mushrooms for another dish.

Bechamel

5 T butter

5 T flour

3 cups hot milk

¼ c chopped onion

sprig of parsley

sprig of thyme

mushroom stems

Few Gratings of Nutmeg

Melt the butter and add the flour. Cook for a few minutes, taking care not to scorch it.

Add the hot milk gradually, whisking all the while. Let it thicken slowly with the herbs and onion and mushrooms, stirring it frequently. Strain it before using.

Delmonico's Menu from 1899, check out the prices!!!:

***Many of the facts about Ranhofer were taken from the nice folks at Wikipedia!