Update 23: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child

Session 14: Salads was a definitely a nice break from meat, stock, and potatoes.  I began with the Demonstration: Assiette de Crudités (Raw Vegetable Plate) which included a variety of simple salads. The book says it may not be possible to present all the salads at once, but there should be at least five on a plate.

I made all six simple salads: 

Carrots à la Citronette (Carrots in Lemon Vinaigrette), which is just what it sounds like. Julienned carrots tossed in a vinaigrette of lemon juice, salt and pepper, and vegetable oil and finished with fresh parsley.  Pretty straightforward -- I've made a combination of this before, and it is bright and lovely and a nice change from cooked carrots as a side dish.

Céleri Rémoulade (Celery Root in Rémoulade Sauce), which involved making the remoulade (mayonnaise mixture) by combining a room temperature egg yolk with Dijon mustard, salt and pepper and then whisking in vegetable oil and a bit of white wine vinegar to taste.  Julienned celery root was tossed in the sauce and that was it. One note: celery root oxidizes quickly, so it is important to keep it moist and to rub with a lemon when peeling to keep it from discoloring.  I was surprised at how much I liked the celery root -- this would be a great side with a nice grilled meat or fish.

Concombres à la Creme (Cucumbers in Cream) -- this was my favorite.  Peel a cucumber, cut lengthwise, scoop out seeds and thinly slice (émincer).  Put in a colander with some salt to dégorger (drain) for about 30 mins.  While that's draining, make the cream by beating heavy cream and lime juice in a bowl (set over an ice water bath) until soft peaks form. Finely chop some mint and fold it into the cream with some salt/pepper to taste.  Nap the cucumbers with the sauce.  Yum.  This combination was a winner.

Choux Rouge à la Vinaigrette (Red Cabbage in Vinaigrette), prepare red cabbage and chop chiffonade, add 3.5 TBS of red wine vinegar, some salt and cover with water by one inch.  Let soak for about 30 minutes until slightly soft, drain and pat dry.  Place in clean bowl and toss with a vinaigrette of red wine vinegar, salt and pepper and vegetable oil   I love the color this adds to the plate.

Tomates à la Vinaigrette (Tomatoes in Vinaigrette) was a good one, too.  Peel your tomatoes, cut into wedges and if under ripe, put in colander with some salt for 30 mins to dégorger. Mine were lovely and ripe, from my organic box order, so I passed that step and put the tomatoes in a medium bowl and tossed with the red wine vinaigrette from above.  Sprinkling in chopped chives added a zing that was really great.  These tomatoes on a plate with a juicy steak or lovely piece of fish -- yum!

Champignons à l'Estragon (Mushrooms in Tarragon Vinaigrette) was my second favorite of these. Make the vinaigrette by combining white wine vinegar, salt and pepper and whisking in vegetable oil.  Thinly slice --émincer-- cleaned button mushrooms (stems removed) and toss with the vinaigrette to coat.  Marinate for about an hour at room temperature and just before serving stir in chopped fresh tarragon.  I got my tarragon from our garden -- the new leaves all green and fragrant.  The tarragon really makes this dish -- it's like adding the perfect pair of heels to an evening dress -- stunning. 

If you were wondering like me why we used vegetable oil in these salads instead of olive oil, it is because olive oil would most likely overpower the other flavors. Vegetable oil is a neutral oil, so it doesn't add extra flavor to the vinaigrette, letting the vegetables shine through.

The next part of this session was the Demonstration of Assortiment de Légumes à la Grecque (Assortment of Greek-Style Vegetables).  The basic preparation for the Greek style of cooking is a mixture of olive oil, onions, dry white wine, coriander, peppercorns, lemon, salt and a bouquet garni.  The vegetables can be served hot or cold, and three or four different vegetables are served together -- but they are prepared separately.

I made Champignons à la Grecque (Greek Style-Mushrooms), Chou-fleur à la Grecque (Greek-Style Cauliflower) and Courgettes à la Grecque (Greek-Style Zucchini).  All three began with the same steps: Heat olive oil in sauce pan over medium heat and add chopped onions (plus garlic for the cauliflower and zucchini) and sweat for 4 minutes, without taking on any color.  For the mushrooms: add in washed and trimmed mushrooms (quartered or sliced), white wine, water, lemon juice, bouquet garni and toasted coriander seeds. Season with salt and pepper, cover with a parchment lid with a hole in the center, bring to a simmer until mushrooms are just cooked. The cauliflower florets are prepared the same way, except there is no bouquet garni and a pinch of saffron threads are added instead. For the zucchini, the skin is left on and it is cut into equal pieces. You add the wine, water, lemon juice, bouquet garni from the other recipes, with an added cheesecloth sachet of toasted coriander and peppercorns.  All three vegetables are cooled to room temperature, seasonings are adjusted with salt and pepper, and that's it.

Oddly,  I didn't have any actual lettuce salads to make in this session on salads, but I did prepare a variety of vegetables and vinaigrettes. The final Demonstration for this session was Macédoine de Légumes (Diced Vegetable Salad), which my book says was one of the most popular Parisian bistro salads of the late 19th century. I began by making a simple mayonnaise (egg yolk, Dijon mustard, salt, vegetable oil, vinegar to taste) and then added it a bit at a time to a bowl that had a combination of the following vegetables: carrots, turnips, string beans and petite frozen peas.

To prepare the vegetables, I peeled/trimmed  the carrots and turnips and cut into macédoine (uniform cubes about 5mm square), then I cut the beans (ends removed) into the same size as the carrots and turnips.  I brought a medium saucepan of water to a boil, added a strainer to the pot and cooked the carrots for about 3 minutes, or until tender. I removed the carrots via the strainer and refreshed them in cold water and set aside. I did this process with the rest of the vegetables with the turnips and beans taking about the same amount of time as the carrots, and the peas taking less than a minute. I drained the veggies, cooled, and then the mayo was mixed in. I added some salt and pepper to taste, and that was it. It was creamy and crunchy and very satisfying.

There were several suggestions for presentation,  from diced cooked beets and caviar to lettuce cups with hard cooked eggs and anchovies, but I went with a mound of it on a plate with chopped herbs, as it was already pretty enough on its own.

Some tips from my book:

• The classic French vinaigrette is made of three to four parts oil, slowly whisked into one part acid seasoned with salt and freshly ground pepper.

• The addition of oil slows down the infusion of flavor, so any seasoning  -- even salt and pepper -- should be added before the oil.

• Never pour a vinaigrette directly onto a salad, due to the risks of overdressing.  Instead, place a small amount of the vinaigrette in the bottom of the salad bowl, and just before serving, add the greens and toss to coat with tongs. There should be no vinaigrette left in the bowl once you have removed the greens -- if there is any left in the bottom, you've used too much.

Enjoy!

Next, is Session 15: Working with Fish (!!!)

xoxoxoxo

Update 22, Part 2: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child

The last two Demonstrations for Session 13: Soups were Gelée Ordinaire (Plain Aspic) and Oeufs Moulés au Madère (Eggs in Aspic with Madeira).  As I mentioned in my last post, I found it odd that the book's first Demonstration for this session was a consommé, when the fifth Demonstration for Plain Aspic clearly calls for a consommé to be made as part of the recipe.  The consommé is basically the same as the first demo, but with the added 8-hour task of making a stock with veal, pork, and beef first. I would have been happy to do so, but since I already had 2 cups of lovely beef consommé ready to go, I picked up the recipe at the point where it has just been strained and then is left to cool.  Any objections? (If so, too bad.)  The book suggests adding gelatin to the consommé if it doesn't set as it cools, but mine was a lovely gelatinous consistency, so I didn't need to add anything.  Thus, a plain aspic was easily created and I could move on to the last Demonstration.

Making aspic has always seemed to me to be a daunting task, a culinary work of art that's not for the meek of heart, so I've been dreading this part of the book since my first read-through.

What is aspic?  I teasingly call it "meat jello," but that's not far from the truth. According to my trusty manual,  "An aspic or gelée results when a clarified stock that has a high content of gelatinous material solidify. They can be made from any type of clarified stock and flavored with  wines such as port, sherry, Madeira, Sauternes, or champagne. The finished color of the jelly will depend on the stock used." Aspics are used to glaze cold dishes, to make terrines and pates, etc. (page 220)

So, for Oeufs Moulés au Madère (Eggs in Aspic with Madeira), I gently reheated the aspic, stirred in 3 TBS of Medeira, added some salt and then set it aside to cool again.  While it was cooling, I put four ramekins in the fridge to chill.  Then, I prepared the garnish for the dish.  I peeled, cored, and seeded a tomato and got rid of any membranes. I cut what was left into decorative strips.  Then, I blanched some leek greens and sliced them very thinly and also sliced some ham into fun shapes as well. The image in the books shows what seem to be carrots cut decoratively, so I did that, too.  I also used some tarragon leaves and some parsley leaves and planned out my designs for the aspic. (I decided on an abstract flower/spring garden motif).

I also poached 4 eggs via the boiling water/vinegar method, and drained/cooled them and set aside (they were too big for my ramekins, so I had to trim them quite a bit).

Next, I took a shallow baking pan and filled it with ice. I spooned about 2mm of the aspic into each ramekin and placed them in the pan and then back in the fridge to set.  A little while later, I took the ramekins back out of the fridge, and using my fish tweezers, put in my decorative pieces of carrots, leek, tomato, ham, and herbs and topped with more of the gelatin and returned them back to the ice to set again.  

When that was set, the eggs went into each cup, and then more aspic went on top.  I added some herbs for my own special flair, and returned the ramekins to the pan and into the fridge where they set overnight.

This is what they looked like when I them out to unmold them tonight (run sharp knife around edges, dip ramekin in hot water up to the rim for about 10 seconds, cover top with plate, turn over and lift off the ramekin -- and pray it all comes out at once and in one piece):

And this is what it looked like unmolded:

Success! (Applause.)

The dish is to be served with a simple salad, cold vegetables (asparagus is suggested) or any sauce suitable for cold eggs. . .Chris boldly wanted to try it, but I decided not to make a meal of it, as that seemed to be pushing it a bit.  He said, "this tastes like the way a grocery store smells," (????) but, he also said it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

I thought it tasted like a fancy meat jello.

Whew!  Aspic, I conquered you!  Now, on to Session 14: Salads.

xoxoxo




Aspic

Update 22, Part 1: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child

Session 13: Soups had six Demonstrations.  I did a couple of them out of order based on the time and ingredients I had on hand, but completed them all!

The first one I made was Crème ou Velouté Dubarry (Cream of Cauliflower Soup).  It involved chopping up a washed/cored head of cauliflower (reserving about 12 florets and cooking à l'anglaise ahead of time for garnish), cooking some thinly sliced leeks (émincé) in 3 TBS butter, sprinkling that with flour (singer) and then removing the pan from the heat.  I then whisked in hot chicken stock (1.25 L),  and when well incorporated, returned the pan to a simmer, added the chopped cauliflower and cooked, stirring constantly, for 20 minutes until tender.  I then used a blender and puréed the soup, and then it went through the chinois into a clean pan.  Back on the stove on medium heat and in went some heavy cream to thicken.  I also made a liaison with more cream and and an egg yolk, and whisked in a bit of the hot soup to temper, before adding to the rest of the soup. Add salt and pepper to taste, and top with the reserved florets and chervil/parsley leaves before serving.

I thought the soup could have been thicker -- the purée was nice and thick from the blender, but the book said to run the purée through a chinois if an even smoother consistency was required, which left most of the heft out of the pot. (Unless they wanted me to use a chinois with bigger holes? One of the hard parts of doing this via a book and not a real teacher is that I'm reading the instructions, but there's no one to give me advice or suggest that when they say "put through a chinois" they mean "but not that kind of chinois.") Adding the cream and liaison helped -- but I wanted even more bulk to it. I also desperately wanted to add some garlic and something salty like bacon, to the end product, but I didn't.  This was fine -- a pleasing, basic cream soup. And, I now know how to do it for a variety of vegetables. (Carrots, celery, potato, broccoli, etc.)

Then, I made Potage Cultivateur (Vegetable Soup) which involved bacon, leeks, carrots, celery, turnips, cabbage, potatoes, string beans and green peas in a light broth.  The carrots, turnips and potatoes were cut paysanne, which is basically cutting them into strips ready for dicing, but then cutting into thin squares instead of cubes. The cabbage was cut into thin ribbon-like strips (chiffonade). The leeks and celery were sliced thin (émincé), and the green beans and peas were cooked à l'anglaise and then the beans were diced.)  The bacon (rind removed) was cut into lardons and blanched in boiling water, drained and set aside.  It all looked very nice and colorful waiting to be used:

Into a pot went 2 TBS of butter and then the bacon -- which was sweated but wasn't to brown.  Then, the leeks, celery, turnips and carrots were added and sweated for about 10 minutes more, until they started to soften. Then, I added 1.25 L of water (the book recommends not using a stock for this soup as you want the flavor of the vegetables "to shine" in the soup) and some salt and pepper. When it came to a simmer, the cabbage was added, and about 10 minutes later, the potatoes.  This simmered for about 10-12 minutes more until the veggies were tender and then I added the beans and peas for a few more minutes, and that was about it.   I put some baguette slices in the oven for a few minutes to dry/crisp up (I wasn't supposed to toast them or let them take on color) and added a few pinches of grated Gruyère and some parsley/chervil leaves as garnish.) The book recommended grating 1.5 oz of the cheese on a plate and surrounding it with the dried bread, which lasted about 5 minutes -- I think I downed half of the cheese while I was grating it.  The soup had a beautiful color -- greens and orange and white -- it tasted strongly of bacon, and I think the diced bacon squares in the soup were a bit detracting from the look of it, so next time, I might brown the bacon pieces and sprinkle as a garnish...or perhaps we should just call this Bacon and Vegetable Soup instead.  :)

After that was Gratinée à l' Oignon (Onion Soup) which was a lot easier than I anticipated, and which came out terrific.  It was my favorite of the soups by far.  Chris, who abhors onions actually ate his crock of soup without complaint and even said it was good as--if not better than--any he's had in various restaurants.  I would agree--it was really great and did taste and look of restaurant quality.

Here's what I did: I thinly sliced (émincé) 1 lb., 5 oz. of white onion  and added to 2 TBS of butter and 1.5 TBS of vegetable oil in a rondeau on medium heat.  I stirred the onions for about 15 minutes until they softened and started to take on a bit of color.

Then, I upped the temperature and stirred for another 15-20 minutes, until they caramelized into a nice brown color.  (The book says it is important the onions are cooked through and browned nicely, or the soup won't turn out right.)

(On the way to nice and brown!)

Then, I added in a chopped clove of garlic and cooked for another couple of minutes.  The book called for 7 TBS of port wine, but I had brandy, so I used that (I read that brandy is actually added to fermented grapes to make port wine, which is a sweet, fortified wine, so figured it was close enough).  I cooked for about 10 minutes, until the brandy was reduced by about half.  Then, I added in 1 L of hot beef stock, seasoned to taste with some salt/pepper, and simmered everything for about 20 minutes more. It had a nice, rich dark brown color and smelled really delicious.  When it was time to serve, I put 2-3 toasted baguette pieces in the bottom of soup crocks, filled them with the soup and covered with an enormous amount of grated Gruyère cheese (2 oz for each, plus a bit more because I love it--yum!).  The crocks went on a baking sheet and into a 375 degree oven for a few minutes until the cheese bubbled and then I turned the oven to broil, until the cheese browned a bit more.  The kitchen smelled like a French bistro.  I served with more baguette pieces for dipping and some crisp apple slices (the soup is rich/heavy, so don't need to serve a lot of food with it).  With a nice glass of red wine or beer, this was a fabulous meal.

After those successes, I went back to the first Demonstration and tackled Consommé Brunoise (Beef Consommé with Vegetable Garnish).  I did this out of order, because the last two Demonstrations are for aspic --which is made from consommé.  Instead of spending another 10 hours to make another batch of marmite and then consommé, I am planning on using this first batch for the aspic recipes. After all, time is very important now that we are at the half-way mark, and I'm also trying to not waste any food...

Making consommé was a weird process. At one point, Chris walked by, snuck a look in the pot, wrinkled his nose and said, "Eww."  And he wasn't wrong.

To start a consommé, you put 1.5 L of marmite (also known as beef stock) and bring it to a boil, then immediately remove from heat to cool for about 10 minutes until warm. In the meantime, you put 7 oz of ground lean beef or turkey (I used 85% lean beef) in a heat-proof bowl, along with 3 egg whites, a chopped/peeled/cored tomato (although the picture in the book sure looks like the tomato still has a peel on it),  .75 oz of tomato paste and an ounce or so of julienned leeks, celery and carrots.

You mix everything together with a wooden spoon, and then slowly add in the warm marmite.  Then, everything goes back into the pot and you bring to a simmer, stirring often.  Once it comes to a simmer,  you stop stirring and the weirdest thing happens: the meat and veggies float to the top and make a "raft" -- which pulls the impurities out of the stock.  (It looks like a meatloaf exploded.)

(Raft forming)

At this point, you lower the heat to a bare simmer and leave undisturbed for an hour.  You don't stir it or bring to a boil, or the raft will break and you will have to start all over because your mixture will not clarify, which is the whole point of consommé.

Once the hour has passed, you remove from heat and use a small ladle to make a hole in the center of the raft and then slowly and painstakingly (ugh!) ladle out the consommé into a chinois that is lined with a napkin, cheesecloth or damp towel, into a clean bowl.  It is the clearest, most golden color you've ever seen a beef stock take on, if you do it right.

I think next time (if there ever is a next time) I might just use a deep soup pot instead of a stock pot, as it seemed like the raft should have been higher/thicker instead of wide and thin.  But, my consommé still came out clear and lovely, so maybe it doesn't matter. At this point, you remove any remaining fat with a spoon, season with salt and serve in a bowl with a garnish of parsnips and carrots cut brunoise (cut into julienne and then diced) and some peas and diced green beans-- all cooked à l'anglaise ahead of time.

Sure is pretty. And, look -- you can see through it!

So, you can have some consommé with some salad, cheese and wine, or you can move on and make aspic...which is what I'm working on tonight.

By the way, I signed up to be part of a local organic produce co-op and received my first box on Wednesday. I got apples, carrots, mint, a rosemary plant, oranges, pears, salad greens, cucumber, a half dozen organic eggs, green beans, tomatoes, an eggplant and bananas (fair trade). I'll get a box twice a month, and everything is organic and local (or as close as they can get).  Very exciting, and  Session 14 is here just in time for me to take advantage of the goodies in my box, too: Salads!

xoxoxo

Update 21: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child

The first Demonstration for Session 12: Pot au Feu, and that was Pot au Feu (Boiled Beef Dinner).   My book says it is an example of more traditional French home cooking as opposed to haute cuisine, and that the dish provides all the elements of a complete meal: the soup (broth), boiled meat, and vegetables (usually root vegetables). The recipe involves simmering meat and bones slowly to produce a full-flavored broth called a marmite, which if done correctly, should have a warm, amber color.  Adding  oignons brûlées (burnt onion halves) to the dish also helps with the color.

I started with 2 lbs of beef marrow and knuckle bones and 4.5 lbs of beef short ribs, trimmed the excess fat from the short ribs and then tied the pieces of meat together with twine (in the end, the meat is so tender it just slides off the bone, so you don't want it floating around in the pot). I also removed the marrow from one of the larger bones and put it in cold water until I needed it later. The bones and meat went into a pot of boiling water for a few minutes until blanched and then were drained.

I also took an onion (skin on), cut it in half and put the cut halves face down on a cast iron skillet and seared for a few minutes, until the onion was nicely browned (but not black), which gave me the oignons brûlées I mentioned earlier.

Back into the now empty pot went the meat and bones and 2.5 liters of cold water (cold water adds depth to the broth), which was brought to a boil and then lowered to a simmer. I skimmed the foam and fat that came to the top, and then added a mirepoix of carrots, leeks and celery as well as a garlic clove, bouquet garni and the browned onion halves (I pressed a clove into the side of each half). I added salt and pepper, and simmered this for about 3 hours, until the meat was very tender and the marmite was a clear, light amber color.  I skimmed constantly -- there is a lot of grease that comes to the top (short ribs are pretty fatty) and the end result seemed a bit disappointing for all of the effort that went into it, but more on that later.

About 30 minutes before the meat was done, I prepared the garnish. I put carrots that had been tournered cocotte  (about 2 inches long) into cheescloth, tying it into a little bag.  I did the same with leeks and celery -- which was peeled first-- and put the bags into the pot with the meat for about 15 minutes, until tender. While they were cooking, I put some tournered potatoes and turnips (also cut cocotte) into separate saucepans, just covering each with some of the marmite and cooking until tender.  I also took the marrow, sliced it very thin and placed in a pan with some marmite and poached for about 30 seconds until warmed through.

The potatoes and turnips, carrots and leeks went into a shallow soup bowl, followed by the meat, and then the marmite was ladled on top.  The dish was supposed to be served with cornichons, mustard, salt and the second and last Demonstration for this session: Sauce Raifort (Horseradish Sauce). That involved making a velouté (white sauce thickened with a roux) with the marmite, adding heavy cream and freshly grated horseradish, salt and pepper.  It was like a horseradish gravy.

The book recommends making the dish a day ahead, so you can remove even more of the fat from the broth. Probably a good idea, but after spending 4 hours in the kitchen, I didn't really want to wait for the payoff.  The meat was tender and fell right off the bones, the broth tasted pretty much like beef stock, and the root vegetables were tender and nice -- we dunked hunks of crusty bread into our bowls, but weren't sure what to do with the mustard, cornichons and horseradish. I looked up some other recipes online and they didn't really explain either.  I served the meal from the shallow bowls like the book advised, but I think if I ever made this again, I would put everything on a platter and the broth on the side -- that would make more sense for the garnishes, right?

Anyway, it wasn't a bad dish, but it wasn't outstanding either.  It smelled wonderful while it was cooking, and Chris hovered around the kitchen with me.  We snacked on cheese and olives and some champagne while we waited for it to be done, but when it was, it was kind of a let down.  I was expecting something different I guess, and I think Chris is getting tired of these variations on broth, meat, potatoes, carrots and turnips, etc.

Hopefully we can get through Session 13: Soups rather quickly.

That's it for now.
xoxoxo

Update 20: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child


I finished Session 11 last night with Escalopes de Volaille Viennoise (Viennese-Style Chicken Scallops), which brought the technique of breading and sautéeing into play.

The dish took about 45 minutes (the book says 30, but close enough) and was relatively easy.

I prepared the garnish first which involved wrapping anchovies (soak in water, pat dry, remove bones) around big fat green olives, sticking a parsley leaf in the olive opening, and putting that whole piece on top of a lemon wheel that had the seeds, peel and pith removed.  My lemon was a bit on the small side, so it wasn't as big as the one in the book, but it worked just as well.  This went into the fridge. Then, I took two hard-boiled eggs, sliced them in half lengthwise, removed the yolks and separated from the whites.  I was instructed to press the yolk and then the whites through a sieve into separate bowls.  I didn't think I would get anything but mush by doing this, but it was pretty slick -- I had two bowls of silky egg sprinkles (my word, not theirs).

Then, on to the chicken.  The recipe was for four breast pieces, but since the fridge is already overflowing, I only did two. I pounded them with a mallet between parchment paper (sorry neighbors!) until they were about a quarter of an inch thick, which was so liberating to do after a crappy day at the office.  Who needs yoga when you have a mallet and some raw meat?

The pieces were now considered to be "suprêmes" not to be confused with the oranges from our Duck demonstration a few weeks ago.  I then prepared the breading ingredients and put flower in the first shallow bowl (I think pie pans work great for this), a whisked mixture of two eggs and vegetable oil, salt and pepper in the second, and breadcrumbs in the third. I thought for sure they would want me to make the breadcrumbs from scratch, but the book didn't give instructions for that, and in a side note it said "if it is necessary to make the breadcrumbs...."  It also noted to be careful not to coat the meat too thick with the dried crumbs as you'll end up having more bread than meat.

I took each suprême, and working one at a time, dipped in flour (and then tapped it to get rid of any extra -- too much makes it gluey), then dipped in the egg (tapping off extra egg), and then finally pressing into the breadcrumbs so each side was even and covered completely.  Then, I used my knife and gently marked in a quadrillage pattern (criss-cross, for presentation) and fried each piece in a pan of clarified butter for 1-2 minutes on each side (starting with the pretty side down) until it was a lovely golden brown and the chicken was cooked through. The chicken crisped up perfectly, and looked really great.

I placed the pieces on paper towels to drain and then put on a plate, finishing with the lemon/olive/anchovy/parsley garnish, the egg sprinkles, some chopped parsley, and also some capers.  The book suggested spooning some thickened veal stock on it as well, and that was it.

The chicken was perfectly cooked, but this dish wasn't one of my favorites. Chris felt there was an overwhelming butter flavor to the meat, which is probably due to frying it in BUTTER.  I thought the briny, tartness of the olives and capers and anchovies went nicely with the chicken and egg, but would have loved a different sauce -- something lighter perhaps?

Either way, it's done and now on to Session 12: Pot au Feu (which means "pot on the fire").

Have a good Friday!
xoxoxxoo

Update 19: New Year's Goal: Become an "official" Gourmess by August 2010

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child

The first Demonstration for Session 11: Methods of Cooking Meat: Poêle, Breading and Sautèeing, Cooking Pork was Carrè de Porc Rôti Choisy (Roast Loin of Pork Choisy).

I started with a bone-in center cut pork loin (about 2.5 lbs). I trimmed some extra fat off of it and then manchonnered the ends of the ribs.  That took a bit of time, but ended up looking great -- it really does change the presentation.  I secured the pork with kitchen twine to hold it together, and then browned it on all sides in a rondeau with vegetable oil and butter, and then removed it from the pan. I added any pork trimmings or bones I had from the prep part, and also added carrot and onion mirepoix and a bouquet garni. The vegetables were stirred and then the pork went back on top. I added 3 TBS of butter to the top of the pork, put the lid on the pan and put it in a 350 degree oven for about an hour and fifteen minutes, until my thermometer registered about 150 degrees and the juices ran clear when I pricked the meat with the tip of a knife.  I also basted the meat every 10-15 minutes with the pan juices, and for the last 10 minutes, removed the lid, so I could get a bit of a browner color.

While the meat roasted, I made the choisy garnish which included two heads of Boston lettuce, carrots cut in very small dice (brunoise), finely diced onion (ciselè), and lean bacon with the rind removed, also finely diced. I also tourneed (ugh!) some russet potatoes in château style, which is about an inch longer than the cocotte size.  

For the Boston lettuce, after washing thoroughly, I blanched the two heads in boiling salted water until they started to wilt and then removed from the pot, drained and refreshed in a bowl of ice water. Then, I shook off the extra water and lightly pressed each with a towel to remove extra water.  In another pan, I added added some butter and then the carrots, onion and bacon -- this trifecta is called a matignon -- and then the lettuce heads went on top, with some chicken stock added until it was covered by half.  I added some salt and pepper and then made a parchment lid, and that went into the oven with the pork for about 30 minutes, until the lettuce core was tender.

I boiled the potatoes until they were tender, then covered in some butter and put those in the oven to roast a bit as well. (The book just says to use cooked potatoes, so I was on my own as how to prepare them. I think this worked fine.)

When the meat was ready, I removed it from the pan, cut off the twine, and tented with some aluminum foil to keep warm.  Then, I put the rondeau back on the stove (it is so great to have such versatile cookware that goes from oven to stove and back again--definitely worth the investment), added some white wine and some thickened veal stock (homemade!) and simmered for about 15 minutes until it had a wonderful flavor of the pan drippings and the mirepoix. Then, it went through the chinois and back into a sauce pan where I removed any fat that was on the surface.  I added some salt and pepper, and reduced a bit more so it was more like a sauce and set aside.

The pan with the choisy came out of the oven. The book said to cut each lettuce head in half lengthwise and fold each half into 3 inch packets. My lettuces were pretty small, so I took all of larger leaves, doubled them up and then folded them into packets (hold lettuce by stem end, smooth out the leaves and then fold the top end of the leaf back toward the stem. I warmed the lettuces up with the potatoes with some stock and seasoned with salt and pepper.

Then, I assembled the dish. I carved the roast, added equal portions of lettuce and potatoes (the book says to nestle them) with a piece of the meat (I made my pieces thick cut), sprinkled with parsley and chervil and that was it. (Sauce was on the side.)

Chris said that mine looked just like it did in the book -- score!

Really lovely meal for a really lovely day.

xoxoxo