I Need to Write This Down

Yeah yeah, I know. I haven't been around for a while. You're mad at me because I didn't write about the Cherry cheesecake, degustation day, dinner at Komi or Mesa Grill, brunch at Perilla, gooseberry gastriques, braised goat shoulder, the jalapeno ceviche, the wasabi crusted rack of lamb, the roasted pork tenderloin with the pomegranate and ancho chili glaze, the failed attempt at cooking veal en papilotte, the bacon dinner (yes, three courses, all with bacon, finishing with the club souffle), or the schezuan grilled kabobs.

But this post isn't about any of those things. This post is about the spice rub I put on some pan seared swordfish tonight. And making sure I remember it forever.

Garam Masala
Coriander
Cayenne
Ginger
Cinnamon
Ground Mustard
Chili powder
Paprika
Ground Cloves
Cumin
Garlic
Paprika
Smoked Paprika
Salt
Black Pepper

That's all. I'll be back soon. I hope.

The Best Meal I've Ever Cooked: Part Two

This time, minus the bitterness at NBC. Because they were nice enough to start running new episodes of Scrubs again, thus making my Thursday nights a little bit more complete.

If you haven't yet, check out my account of the first part of the meal, and also Alyse's recap, which gives detail by delicious detail. (Also, shout out to Alyse, who is now PUBLISHED!)

So when I last left you, we had finished an amuse bouche and the first set of courses. Next up was the main course. The first was a white truffle shrimp fondue with an herb risotto. This one, I must admit, was not an original. It came straight from Rocco DiSpirito's Flavor, which has been my most reliable source for recipes that are so good they don't need to be altered at all. In fact, the recipe is right here, in its totality. Here's my presentation:



So I can only take credit for the execution, but not the concept of the combination of the truffle, risotto, fresh herbs, shrimp, and perfectly seasoned tomato fondue. But the second of the two main courses was a horseradish crusted rack of lamb that has shown some development in the very pages of this blog. The pairing of a horseradish crust with the robust flavor of a perfectly medium rare prime rib gave me the idea to try it with lamb. The cherry gastrique was on the money the first time, but I wanted to make sure to season the lamb a bit more this time around--thus, a dry rub of fresh cumin, coriander, kosher salt, paprika, cayenne, and black pepper. I also knew I wanted to lighten up the dish as a whole; a contrast of baby arugula tossed in lemon juice and black pepper would give the dish a fresh, bitter element. And finally, I added the sauteed langoustines to give a sweet, exotic flavor. A treat, if you will, for a bunch of people that had probably never had langoustines. That being said--not really an essential part of the dish. Also, what is it about hipsters and pictures of food? Scott managed to take a better picture of this dish than any I've taken of my food over the course of the last year. Clearly I need a new strategy. Observe.

Scott:


Me:


And finally, what would a good meal be without dessert? I decided to pair up some puff pastry (profiteroles, if you're french or pretentious) with coffee ice cream and a bailey's irish cream chocolate sauce. I love the idea of mixing traditional after dinner drinks (bailey's and coffee) with traditional after dinner desserts (ice cream, chocolate, and puff pastry). Warm and cold, rich and fresh, it couldn't have turned out better.


And remember that failed pineapple creme brulee from a few weeks back? I decided to ignore the cookbooks and cook it until I felt like it was done. The end result? Perfection. And brulee torches are still awesome.


Thanks to everyone for coming and making this a fantastic success! I may just try this idea again one day after all....

The Best Meal I've Ever Cooked: Part 1 or "Screw you, NBC, I didn't want to be on your show anyway"

Three loads in the dishwasher and I'm STILL not done cleaning from Sunday night. Such is the result of Restaurant Weekend, a three-day cooking extravaganza that started with a stock and finished with a blow torch at the dinner table.

How does life get any better than this?

6 different dish options plus an amuse bouche--not to mention the fact that each of these were among the most complicated dishes I've ever attempted. 6 guests, plus me and the indispensable Alyse.

Twice. Welcome to Restaurant Weekend.

Alyse beat me to the punch on the full recap of the process behind each of the dishes, so I'll refer you to her most thorough of descriptions for the nitty gritty. She My post will focus instead on the inspiration behind each dish. Because for me, Restaurant Weekend started long before I actually got to work on each dish. The menu was the result of literally weeks of brainstorming, influence from existing recipes, experimentation, and a search for balance. And so we come to the menu.

First up was the amuse bouche. Alyse hit this nail on the head--my idea for the whole meal was a meal of contrasts in texture, flavor, nature. And the amuse bouche was to be that idea condensed into a couple of bites. I have to admit, I had never prepared nor eaten foie gras, so this recipe was a bit blind going in. I knew only that it was supposed to have the richness of the bone marrow I tried a few months ago. So I wanted a thick, crispy bread...almost like an oversized crouton...to balance the creaminess of the foie gras. To balance the richness, a fresh grape chutney of quartered white and red grapes, mustard seed, veal stock, port, and red onion. And to bring out the full flavor of the amuse, some orange and lemon zest and alderwood smoked sea salt.

Next up, the first two courses. I was particularly excited about the saffron scented parsnip soup with the butternut squash coulis. Since we ended up with no vegetarians, I decided the parsnip soup should get a chicken stock base. And I knew I was making a risotto later--I'd need lots of chicken stock for two days of meals. Only one good option.

I was going to make my own chicken stock.

We kept this one simple. I brought and quartered a whole chicken, used my trusty cleaver to split the bones into 2 inch long pieces, and simmered the bones away for a few hours while reserving the chicken meat for my own devious dinner purposes (nothing special, just some nuggets and and pan-roasted chicken breast). Later I added a white mirepoix of onion, celery, and parsnip along with some black peppercorns, salt, and bay leaves. An hour later, I strained the whole mixture and voila...enough chicken stock for the whole weekend.

The stock made its appearance in the parsnip soup after I had sauteed some shallots, carrots, and celery until they were soft. With this soup I thought a contrast in colors between the white, creamy parsnip and the rich, dark orange butternut squash would be both visually delightful and interesting the palette. And while the carrots and saffron made the parsnip soup a bit more orange than I had hoped, decreasing my color contrast, the taste was fantastic. Well balanced and velvet-smooth (the result of pushing the soup through my chinois), I wouldn't have changed much of anything about this satisfying, hearty soup.


The rest of the table got a composed salad of duck confit, escarole, butter lettuce, poached pear, dried cranberries, and toasted sunflower seeds. This salad was designed to be the very pinnacle of balance. The bitter escarole was balanced with the fresh, crispy butter lettuce. The poached pear balanced the rich, fatty duck confit. And the crunch sunflower seeds balanced the fruity explosion of the dried cranberries on the tongue. And they were all brought together by this genius honey-champagne vinaigrette that Alyse made that I'd like to take a bath in.


Part 2 will come in the next couple of days and will walk you through the deliciously complex main courses and the desserts. Stay tuned!

Practice Makes Perfect?

With restaurant weekend quickly approaching, it seemed only appropriate to give the whole thing a quick dry run...with some minor tweaks to keep it interesting. See, Lisa won't be able to make either seating so I thought I'd try experimenting on her to see if it was only my ego that thought I could make three courses worth paying $30 for. Unfortunately, I was so stuffy I had completely lost my sense of smell, so I really had to rely on Lisa for guidance with this one.

After hearing Alyse talk of her honey-champagne vinaigrette, I figured it was a match made in heaven for salad featuring duck confit. I picked up some escarole and endive from Wegman's, tossed it in the vinaigrette, and added toasted sunflower seeds and a few dashes of dried cranberry. I simply rewarmed the duck confit in bacon fat on the stovetop and included some pear I had poached in sherry and a bit of sugar. Solid, except the bitter+bitter idea on the greens was a bit overwhelming. For restaurant weekend, I'll use butter lettuce instead of endive. The honey-champagne vinaigrette was FREAKING AWESOME. Oh, and Lisa brought a camera so we have pictures!


Next up was a pan roasted rack of lamb with homemade gnocchi, sauteed langoustines, and a truffled cream sauce. The centerpiece of this dish? Not the lamb, gnocchi, not even the langoustines....the truffled cream sauce. Which, of course, you need a sense of smell to enjoy. So I have no idea how this dish turned out (though I will say I was unsatisfied with the presentation and disappointed that I overcooked the lamb). Lisa said it was good, but she could have been lying. This dish had a lot going on, and I think the overall quality struggled. Clearly something to work on when I'm prepping 7 different dishes for a total of 6 people. Yikes.


Finally, the pineapple creme brulee. Very good thing I tried this ahead of time, because I completely failed at getting the brulee to set. I have ideas for next time that should do me a bit better, but Lisa got treated to something that was more like creme pudding than brulee. On the bright side? The browning torch is the coolest thing I have ever owned.

The general recipes have been brainstormed for the weekend, the slots have been filled, and the menu choices have been made. Check out the final ish:

Amuse bouche of Foie Gras and Grape Chutney

Course 1: Salad of Duck Confit with Sherry Poached Pear and Honey-champagne Vinaigrette or Saffron Scented Parsnip Soup with Butternut Squash Coulis

Course 2: Horseradish Crusted Rack of Lamb with baby argula, sauteed langoustines, and cherry gastrique or White Truffle Risotto with Gulf Shrimp Fondue

Course 3: Pineapple Creme Brulee or Profiteroles with Coffee Ice Cream and Bailey's Irish Cream Chocolate Sauce

So if you were attending, what would you order?

Quiche!

Every now and then I've found I need to take a step back from the upscale haute cuisine I've been so enthralled with recently and remember some of the dishes that started this whole culinary journey.

My mom endures a lot of teasing (especially from her side of the family) about her skills in the kitchen, but the reality is some of my all-time favorite foods have come from her kitchen: the french fries that have become small legends among my friends, the macaroni and cheese that I've been happy to serve time after time, and the fried chicken that I still don't know how to recreate.

But perhaps my favorite of all of these, since before I even knew had to spell (or probably pronounce the word), is the spinach and bacon quiche. So much do I love it that I'm not even remotely tempted to kick it up with my own additions.

I start with chopped braised spinach in a mixing bowl mixed with extra sharp cheddar, monterey jack, and asiago.. Either frozen or fresh spinach will do, but when I do it fresh I make sure to keep the vinegar to a subdued minimum. In a separate bowl I mix 6 eggs and about a quarter cup of milk with some salt and pepper. Add the egg mixture with a healthy dose of chopped bacon to the spinach, and pour into two pie crusts that have been pre-baked for about 10 minutes. Top with lots more extra sharp cheddar and bake at 300 degrees for about 25-30 minutes. Let chill for about 10 minutes before serving.

There are few words to describe how delicious this quiche is. The amounts of spinach, bacon, and cheeses are really up to you, but I like to be heavy on both the cheese and the bacon. Spoken like a true southerner.

But of course, I can't keep the gourmet stuff on the back-burner too long. Next up, my restaurant weekend dry run, and the menu for the real restaurant weekend, coming up in just 6 short days!

2 for 2

My fantasy of opening a fine dining restaurant has always felt like just that--a fantasy. Especially a year ago, when I took that next step in cooking--a full set of cookware. When I really got into making my own recipes. I mean, sure, I could recreate recipes pretty well, but my original recipes were rarely spectacularly interesting. Sure, a tasty meal at the end of a day of work--but nothing I'd be excited to see on a plate I had paid $30 for.

That seems to be slowly changing. And I owe a significant amount of it, no doubt, to my sauce work and in particular my discovery of gastriques. A gastrique is actually a pretty basic sauce: a pureed fruit of some sort, white wine or vinegar, salt, pepper, and sugar. I first had the idea to make a gastrique from some leftover cherries and pair it with my horseradish crusted rack of lamb a few weeks ago. And if you recall, I was so impressed with that dish that I mentioned I would have been happy to have gotten it at any restaurant I've ever been to. (Side note: a reminder for me-next time, serve it over some baby arugula tossed in lemon juice, salt and pepper for a little acidic kick. See? Where is this COMING from??)

I was so happy with the cherry gastrique that when I went exploring in Harris Teeter the other day to try to figure out what to make with my friend Jess, I stopped dead in my tracks as I passed the blackberries.

Although, to be fair, I didn't conceive this dish around the blackberry gastrique. Actually, the dual presentation of a duck breast and thigh at Blue Duck Tavern, as bad as it tasted, gave me an idea of two separate preparations of two different parts of a duck (or chicken) with two different sauces.

So I scoured Harris Teeter for ideas. I settled on skin-on chicken breast and, since the pieces were a bit smaller, both a chicken leg and thigh. Pan roasting the chicken and....how about shallow poaching? It's one of the techniques in The Professional Chef that I hadn't tried, but seemed like a good idea. Cool. And then I'll make a sauce from the reduction of the poaching liquid. I still needed a base for my second sauce and that's when I walked by the blackberries.

I started with by browning minced garlic in butter and adding chicken stock, salt, pepper, and pomegranate juice...just enough to come halfway up the chicken legs and thighs. I poached on the stovetop on medium low for a few minutes, being careful not to let the poaching liquid boil, and then tossed the whole pan in the oven. Next I started the chicken breasts on the stovetop, seasoned with cumin, salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne, chili powder, coriander, and mustard ground. That pan also ended up in the oven. While the chicken was poaching/roasting, I braised some rainbow chard in balsamic vinegar, white wine, salt, and pepper. Then made the gastrique...I simmer my gastrique with bay leaves, star anise, and allspice before I push it through a chinois and let it continue to reduce until just thickened. Just before I pulled the legs and thighs out of the oven, I turned the broiler on high to caramelize the skin just a bit. Then, took the pan out, removed and covered the chicken, and put the pan back on the stovetop. I let the poaching liquid reduce and strained out the garlic. I laid a dollop of rainbow chard in the middle of the plate and arrange the three pieces of chicken around it. On the side of the pan-roasted breast, I spooned the blackberry gastrique...now a rich, deep red. And on the side with the shallow-poached leg and thigh, I spooned the dark brown pan reduction.

With the exception of a slight overdoneness on the chicken that was basically a timing issue, I was thrilled with the outcome. The acidic chard cut through the sweetness of the gastrique and the rich flavor of the reduction. The chicken was well seasoned and the sauced complimented the preparation styles very well. And it was the second dish in as many tries that I think would be completely worthy of a spot on the menu of the vast majority of fine dining establishments out there.

Lord knows it'd be a step up from Blue Duck Tavern....

PS-One day I'll start taking pictures again. I just don't know when that will be.

Bicycles.

Miss Natalie's birthday was a few weeks ago, which gave me an excuse to head up to Baltimore and check out the best food it had to offer. Not knowing much about the city or its food, we were kind of flying blind, but I read very good things about a restaurant called....Bicycle.

I knew I was in trouble when I walked in the door. We were greeted by spectacular smells wafting through an open kitchen into the dining room just a few feet away. The Executive Chef was on the premises that night, and cooks bustled about, busying away at creating dish after dish. A couple of plates sat waiting for just a moment or two under the heat lamps before the thoughtfully put together dishes were whisked away to awaiting diners. I had a feeling we were in for a treat.

Nat had been eyeing a sashimi of tuna and avocado dish since we saw on the menu on their website. I was enthralled by the diver scallops with apples, fennel, braised cabbage, and a truffle vinaigrette. But then....then the waiter came by with a first course special of mussels and prawns in a sweet white wine garlic sauce. Decisions....decisions.

Let's do all three.

And all three we did. My diver scallop was spectacularly prepared--literally a paragon of balanced flavors. Everything was just a symphony. Impeccable. Nat's tuna and avocado was a simple, clean dish. No explosively surprising flavors, but phenomenal texture, and the freshness of the tuna really spoke for itself. I'm always impressed with minimalist dishes like that--ones that manage to still speak loudly, even when they aren't layer after layer after layer of flavor. In that way, Nat's dish and my dish were total opposites. Mine the layering of truffle, apple, fennel, cabbage, scallop, baby arugula. Hers just tuna, avocado, a light peanut dressing, and a bit of masago.

But the third appetizer--deliciously fresh mussels and huge prawns in a sauce of delicious heaven--wins the 'lick the plate" award. In fact, it came with two large pieces of Texas toast that could, should, and I can only imagine were designed to, sop up as much of the sauce as possible. Sweet, spicy, rich...I literally wanted to put it in a baby's bottle and carry it around with me. Rest assured, I will find some way to recreate that sauce. Perhaps at this moment I was most impressed by the flexibility of the chef; we had now enjoyed a restrained dish, a delicately balanced dish, and a rich, filling, homey dish.

Unfortunately, neither main course lived up the abundance of the first courses. Natalie ordered a New Zealand rack of lamb that should have used the same restraint we found in the tuna. Lamb is like beef tenderloin--so naturally flavorful and tender, it should always be complimented by its additions...not covered up. Unfortunately, this lamb was marinated in some sort of citrus that ended up a distraction and, for me, ruined the dish. My steak was a little better, but not by much. I ordered a NY Strip that was, unfortunately, not particularly tender. It was garnished well--some finely diced bell pepper--but the steak just didn't speak too loudly for me. I definitely felt like I could have better at home with the steak and the lamb, and that wasn't true of any of the first courses.

Finally, dessert. Natalie got a chocolate waffle with flambeed bananas. I didn't find it particularly impressive. But then I got a chocolate peanut butter cup....literally a chocolate cup with a rich peanut butter ganache, torched whipped cream, and peanut brittle. After every bite, I had this overwhelming desire to say "that's what she said." It was literally so good it was sexual, and it was enough, once combined with the consistent exceptional quality of the first courses, to put Bicycle in my top 3 of all time. Just behind Perilla and Corduroy. Now I just need an excuse to go back to Corduroy...

Coming soon, my second dish in as many attempts that should be served in a restaurant somewhere, and musings on running my own Restaurant Week(end).

Probably sits at number 3, behind Perilla and

Showed flexibility