Duck Fat Roasted Brussels Sprouts – P.H.A.T. with an “F”

With all the rich and decadent football party food I’ve been sharing lately, I’d thought I’d take a little break, and post a nice, simple green vegetable side dish. Of course, these beautiful roasted Brussels sprouts were just a prop so I could demonstrate using leftover duck fat, but still.

If you watch any amount of celebrity chef TV, you’ve undoubtedly heard them going off on the virtues of duck fat. They mostly pontificate on its deep, palate-coating richness, which is true; but they also like to point out the health benefits. That part is a little cloudy…you know, like saturated fat when it cools down.

Duck fat does have much less saturated fat than butter, and is higher in oleic acid, the stuff that makes olive oil so popular with the healthy eating gurus, but make no mistake, this is still an animal fat, and should be used in moderation. The good news: “in moderation” totally works!

A few tablespoons and a very hot oven is all you need to turn some sleepy vegetables into something much more special. As I mention in the video, bacon grease will make a fine (and even more flavorful) substitute, but if you do cook duck, saving the leftover fat is nothing short of mandatory. I hope you give this technique a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients:

Brussels sprouts (about 4-6 per person)

salt, pepper, cayenne to taste

enough melted duck fat to coat vegetables generously (about 2-3 tablespoons per pound of sprouts)

fresh squeezed lemon to finish

*Roast at 450 degrees F. until tender but still a little firm, about 15-20 minutes

View the complete recipe

Duck Leg Adobo – A Real Family Meal

If you’ve worked in restaurants before, you know that every night before service the staff sits down to what’s called the “family meal.” One of the younger cooks is usually charged with scraping together something filling and, more importantly, not expensive. It was during one of these meals that I first had adobo.

When I worked at the Carnelian Room in the late 80’s, much of the kitchen crew was Filipino, so chicken and pork adobo was a very common dinner. One of the dishwashers made a particularly great version, and I fell in love with the bold, simple flavors. I also remember being pretty annoyed that the dishwashers there were better cooks than I was at the time, but that’s another story.

Anyway, I happened to have some duck legs around last week, and all it took was a well-timed email wishing for adobo to inspire this video. I understand that most of you will not use duck for this, but if you do, be sure to save the fat.

Duck fat is prized by chefs, and more heart-healthy than people realize. It can be used for just about anything you’d normally fry in butter or vegetable oil. I roasted some Brussels spouts with mine, but it also will make just about the best homefries you’ve ever tasted.

Like I said in the video, no duck, no problem. If you can simmer it in a sauce, it will work in this recipe. Because of the high soy sauce content, be careful about over reducing, but other than that, not much can go wrong. This is cheap, easy, and very flavorful, which is why it makes for such a great “family meal.” Enjoy!

Ingredients for 6 duck legs:

6 duck legs (or about same amount of chicken or pork)

salt and pepper to taste

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 tbsp reserved duck fat

1 large onion, sliced

8 cloves garlic, minced

1 cup seasoned rice vinegar (if not seasoned, use a little sugar to taste)

1/2 cup soy sauce, or to taste (this is a fairly salty dish, so if you're not into that kind of thing, add less and adjust later)

1 1/2 cups chicken broth

2 tsp sambal chili sauce, or other hot pepper sauce to taste

2-4 bay leaves

View the complete recipe

Duck and Mango Soba Salad

Duck and Mango Soba Salad is a big bowl of deliciousness--slithery noodles, succulent roast duck, juicy mango slices and vibrant green herbs. The dressing relies on just a few pantry staples. Asian pantry staples that is. I recommend you keep on hand six basic items--Chinese chili garlic sauce, soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, miso and coconut milk. You can expand that list as you see fit. I always have various types of soy sauce and Chinese vinegars, oyster sauce, fish sauce, hoisin sauce, Mirin, Chinese sesame paste, shelf stable packages of tofu, Asian noodles and some Thai curry pastes. A few pantry staples, a stop to pick up a duck at a Chinese deli and a swing through a produce market and you're on your way to making Duck and Mango Soba Salad!

I shop on Clement Street frequently because there are lots of produce markets with a variety of fruit and vegetables I can't find elsewhere (such as Chinese greens and fresh lychees) shops where I can find dim sum to-go and Chinese delis. I know some people like rotisserie chickens, but I prefer Chinese roast duck. Where I live in San Francisco they cost about $12 for a whole and $7 for a half duck. Roast duck is about as versatile as rotisserie chicken but so much tastier and not expensive.

This week I bought some firm green mangoes for a dollar a piece. You don't have to wait until a mango is soft to use it. In fact, some dishes are better if you use a firmer, less ripe mango. This is one of those recipes. If your mango gets very soft, scoop the flesh from the skin and pit, and freeze the pulp. It's great in smoothies, ice cream and baked goods.

Note: Test the noodles before the package instructions indicate they are done.

Duck and Mango Soba Salad 
Serves 4 as a main dish

Ingredients

6 Tablespoons rice wine vinegar
2 teaspoons brown sugar
4 teaspoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon Chinese chili garlic sauce (please tell me you have this, if not, you need it)
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

1 7 - 8 oz package buckwheat or cha green tea soba noodles
1 cup Chinese roast duck sliced
1 large firm mango, sliced into matchsticks
4 green onions, slivered
1/2 cup cilantro, chopped or more to taste

Instructions

Whisk the first five ingredients together until sugar is dissolved.

Cook the soba noodles al dente according to package directions. Do not overcook! Once cooked, drain, rinse, and place in a large mixing or serving bowl.

To the soba noodles add the duck, mango, green onions, and cilantro. Add dressing and toss again before serving.

Enjoy!

Tamale Fusion...A savory and sweet success.

TAMALES  TAMALES   TAMALES...

'tis the season for TAMALES

fist time out of the gates with the tamales and i think i did alright..

maybe i bit off more than i could chew, but i made 3 different tamales... shredded Asian duck with lightly sauteed Comice pears in tarragon...then i made some with pulled pork smothered in Mexican Red Sauce (Red Sauce Recipe found here), Hatch Chilis and queso fresco...then to round out the trio i made sweet tamales with apples and sultana raisins sauteed in butter, brown sugar and cinnamon and topped with toasted pecans...WHEW that's a mouth full.  i'm tired just thinking about it.  they were all fabulous.

there really is nothing like a fresh tamale right out of the steamer.  i can't remember the last time i had one, but it was probably packaged or frozen or brought home and reheated.

once a year at this time our good long time friend, Lupe,  brings us "REAL" authentic Mexican Tamales...and i say real because she was born in Mexico and her mother taught her how her mother taught her and so on and so on...

below is a quick photo of the loot that Lupe brought to us on Saturday night...

i must state that Lupe's Tamales ROCK !...experience definitely shows in flavors and texture.

  

making them yourself is so rewarding and like i said...fresh from the steamer these tight little packages are unbelievably delicious.  it really isn't rocket science (when you take a few short cuts like i did) and they ARE a little labor intensive and tedious....BUT well worth the effort.

above is the shredded Asian Duck.

if you would like to know how i prepared the duck meat please refer to an earlier post i did on Asian style Duck Rillettes...just go as far as shredding the duck to bite size pieces.  i sauteed the Comice pear with a little butter, brown sugar and dried tarragon...then added fresh tarragon before wrapping.  this needed a little sauce to go with it.  my first thought was Sriracha (Asian HOT sauce)...but i think i could have been more creative.

above is the sweet tamale filled with 2 kinds of apples (Granny Smith and Yellow Delicious) sauteed in butter, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg...with a few chopped toasted pecans.  i mixed a bit of sugar into the masa.  serve with whipped cream, ice cream or as i did with a little maple syrup for breakfast...YUMMM !

i have no real written recipe, BUT i do have...

A FEW GOOD HELPFUL HINTS AND SHORT CUTS...

from a first time tamale maker.

1.  buy prepared masa made for tamales.  find a real Mexican market or tortillaria near you.  i found mine at El Matate.  go in the morning, it's still warm in the bag.  now that's fresh.  try not to fall for anything pre-packaged.  the fresh will come in a big plastic bag and hopefully still warm, but definitely moist and mooshy.

2.  make your stuffing/filling the day before...or pull from your freezer like i did with the pulled pork and Mexican Red Sauce.  you don't want to do all this in one day...trust me, the tortilla assembly and cooking will be enough for one day.  i did, however, make the sweet tamale stuffing that day...quick and easy.  like making your favorite apple pie filling.

3.  if you can't deal with the corn husks, try wrapping them in parchment squares.  they aren't as cute and authentic, but it does the trick.  i think you can also purchase pre-cut tamale wrapping paper.  i would have bought a package had i known, but i'm glad i went with the husks on the first time out.

4.  when wrapping, make sure they are totally covered and your husks haven't split.  the filling WILL squish out during cooking.

5.  you can use string instead of corn husk strips to tie them up...this is not an easy task using the husk strips.

6.  if you don't have a proper tamale steamer, use your pasta strainer or vegetable steamer at the bottom of your stock pot.  i used a large vegetable steamer insert, as shown above, and had to lay my tamales flat instead of the traditional upright cooking method.

7.  you need to have them sit a coup[e inches from the bottom and not touch the water.

also...you need enough water to be able to steam for 1 hour.

8.  these can be wrapped ahead of time and cooked before serving.  they will take approximately 1 hour to steam.

9.  they keep well in the fridge for a quick meal and i suppose they can be frozen as well.

10.  reheat in the microwave wrapped in a damp paper or cloth towel to keep moist.

I'm Totally Rushing You In the Fall.

Things are happy. Things are good. Business is good, things feel pretty stable, and, on these crisp nights, I can rock layers (clothing). Thanksgiving has passed and Christmas is coming up really fast. Usually I am a pretty major Christmas geek. I love Christmas music, the tree, the decorating, the parties, the excuse to be over dressed and wear sparkly things, the excuse to be over dressed, wearing sparkly thinks while drinking sparkly things.

This year I don’t feel as much like Mother Christmas as I usually do. I don’t foresee having my annual Christmas party, I’m entirely unclear what I’m giving to whom as gifts (and I usually have that on lockdown months before), and I’m not even getting a tree. I have dug the big boxes of Christmas from the garage, so that’s a start.

A lot of this could be because of the timing of the most recent Dinner at Eight. That would have been last Friday. But even though that’s over and done with, I don’t feel like I can concentrate on things. I am decidedly distracted. I’ve barely even written anything this month. But maybe that’s because I have a crush.

I do.

 

And it (he) has taken quite a bit of my physical and mental space over the past few weeks. He’s coming over for dinner tonight. I haven’t cooked for him yet. I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? I cook for people all the time. I cook for friends, family and even complete strangers. All. The. Time. And yet I’m nervous to cook for Fred tonight. I know I’m going to make my oyster stew. However, I don’t know what will follow. I’m sure it will be fine. I’m sure it will be better than fine. I’m sure it will be delicious and fun.

But I’ve still got the swirlies. Ugh.

Anyway, this past Sunday we spent the better part of the day making cassoulet. I’ve wanted to make cassoulet for forevers. It’ one of my very most favorite dishes. Cassoulet night at Lucques is something I look forward to all year (that’s coming up, by the way). Our cassoulet making was a really fun process that began with procuring our Meat(s) at Lindy & Grundy around one o’clock and ended on Fred’s couch, chowing down at about eleven o’clock. And that was with the fast soak on the cannelini beans. We spent a good deal of the down time doing the Sunday crossword and watching In A Lonely Place (best movie, ever). It all worked out really nicely. It was good times and good food, I must admit. And, as you know, I do so love a Process. And a Sunday. And a cassoulet.

So, back to tonight. I’m thinking either scallops or a stuffed pork tenderloin. Something with beets? I welcome your thoughts on the matter. Regardless, I’ll keep you posted on how tonight’s meal turns out. Promise.

Our Sunday Cassoulet

Serves 6-8

1 lb. dried cannelini beans
10 tbsp. duck fat 

16 cloves garlic, smashed
5 shallots, chopped3 carrots, chopped

1 large ham hock
1 lb. lamb neck, cut into 1"cubes
1⁄2 lb. pancetta, cubed
4 sprigs oregano
4 sprigs thyme
3 bay leaves
1 cup whole peeled canned tomatoes
1 1/2 cup white wine
2 cups chicken stock

2 confit duck legs (we used chicken legs)
1 lb. pork sausages
2 cups bread crumbs

Soak beans in a 4-qt. bowl in 7 1⁄2 cups water overnight. Heat 2 tbsp. duck fat in a 6-qt. pot over medium-high heat. Add half the garlic, shallots, and carrots and cook until lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Add ham hock along with beans and their water and boil. Reduce heat and simmer beans until tender, about 1 1⁄2 hours.

Transfer ham hock to a plate; let cool. Pull off meat; discard skin, bone, and gristle. Chop meat; add to beans. Set aside.

Heat 2 tbsp. duck fat in a 5-qt. dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add lamb and brown for 8 minutes. Add pancetta; cook for 5 minutes. Add remaining garlic, onions, and carrots; cook until lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Tie together oregano, thyme, and bay leaves with twine; add to pan with tomatoes; cook until liquid thickens, 8–10 minutes. Add wine; reduce by half. Add broth; boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; cook, uncovered, until liquid has thickened, about 1 hour. Discard herbs; set dutch oven aside.

Meanwhile, sear duck legs in 2 tbsp. duck fat in a 12" skillet over medium-high heat for 8 minutes; transfer to a plate. Brown sausages in the fat, about 8 minutes. Cut sausages into 1⁄2" slices. Pull duck meat off bones. Discard fat and bones. Stir duck and sausages into pork stew.

Heat oven to 300˚. Mix beans and pork stew in a 4-qt. cast iron dutch oven. Cover with bread crumbs; drizzle with remaining duck fat. Bake, uncovered, for 3 hours. Raise oven temperature to 500˚; cook cassoulet until crust is golden, about 5 minutes.


Printable recipe


One year ago: Linguine with Pancetta Mushroom Cream Sauce
Two years ago: The Flying Pig Truck

Duck, Duck, Fat: Dinner at Sun Ha Jang.

This past Saturday night was very exciting. First off, I may or may not have been on a date. But more importantly, I was taken to two (2) places in my City of Angels that I had never been nor had any prior knowledge of. That’s pretty rare.

I was sent an email a day or two before Saturday with a link to the prodigious Mr. Gold’s review of our restaurant destination: Sun Ha Jang. So I was aware and prepared for whatever lay ahead. That would be duck. Excitement mounted.

At precisely seven o’clock (right on time!) I was picked up and off we went. To Koreatown. And just as I was noticing the façade for a spa I sent my mom to as a gift for Christmas some years ago that left her with PTSD to this day (another story), we were parked smack in front of the restaurant.

Sun Ha Jang was bright, but not too bright, tidy, small and about halfway filled up. I think this was about seven thirty. We were seemingly the only non-Koreans in the house, which was a comforting sign. We were seated immediately and handed golden menus with those hologramy-winky pictures in them. We hardly perused the menu at all before our server came over to get our order. This was fine as we didn’t really know what we were doing and we were pretty much going to go for what was suggested from the review. The Roasted Duck. I’m guessing they were used to Korean food dilettantes coming in, clutching their reference guides Smart Phones since she just kindly nodded, and knew exactly what to deliver.

So right after we got our bottle of soju, a bottle of cold tea, and the usual assortment of panchan, kimchi and marinated bean sprouts, came the sliced duck. Our server was kind to us and guided us through The Process wordlessly. She gingerly placed the round, thick, marbled and fatty duck slices on the griddle in the center of the table with a generous smattering of whole cloves of garlic. Then she picked up a chunklet of kimchi and used it to plug the griddle's drain. We later realized this was to preserve all that glorious duck fat.

After just a few minutes we started to pick at the duck, flipping it and whatnot as I had read that we should by no means allow them to condense into chewy nubs. This was when our server hustled back over to assist, and also where I will insert my companion’s only sound bite from the evening for this post, “Aside from the yumminess of the duck and duck fat roasted garlic and the good company, what sticks in my mind the most was the maternal weariness with which the waitress took over as she watched my relative clumsiness in flipping the duck over on the griddle.”

Did you see that? I’m good company!

Anyway.

When the duck was ready to come off the griddle our server even showed us how to assemble and eat everything together. She made a whole presentation on Date’s plate. The result was not unlike a duck salad: the chopped, dressed lettuce with a few slivers of marinated onion, and a little julienned pickled radish, garnished with the duck topped with a few strands of sliced Korean leek and a small dollop of chili paste. It was fresh and clean, yet rich and unctuous. Each bite was crisp, cool and bright right alongside with being warm, supple and lush.

After a little more time and a lot more bites, the cloves of garlic were all roasty, with crisp outsides and warm, oozy insides. At this point I just wanted to eat bites of the garlic rubbed over slices of the now, ever so slightly brittled duck meat that remained.

But there was more. I knew it was coming and I was aflutter. Our server then brought us a bowl of rice cooked with beans and dumped it onto the griddle, sprinkling it with herbs and sesame seeds. And there it sizzled away as it cooked in that beautiful, seasoned duck fat until it was perfectly crunchety on the bottom.

And then I was sated.

I very much enjoyed my meal and my experience at Sun Ha Jang. I do so love a process. An interactive meal, so to speak. The company was pretty great too.

And then we were off, into the night. Off to destination number two, and as mentioned above, yet another new experience for me, a bar called 1642. This place serves only wine and beer, is perfectly dark and plays almost-but-not-too-loud-and-very-good jazz. Wine and conversation ensued.

This was a good night.


One year ago: Salt's Cure
Two years ago: Grace

Gumbo a Go Go – Duck, Andouille Sausage, Smoked Pork Hock, Gulf Shrimp and Langoustine Gumbo

It’s not easy to pry gumbo-making secrets from a cook in New Orleans, but you should have better luck if you slip them some truth serum, in the form of several well-made sazeracs. 

This particular gumbo, featuring duck, andouille sausage, smoked pork hock, gulf shrimp, and langoustine, was inspired by my recent trip to New Orleans, where I sampled a half-dozen varieties.

One rye whiskey-induced tip was to cook the famous Cajun roux in some duck fat instead of the more common and mundane vegetable oil. The roux is the soul of the gumbo and one of the challenges of this recipe is giving the fat and flour enough time to turn into that deep brick red-brown color.

My little trick here is to add a couple extra spoons of flour after the roux is browned. The dark roux gives the gumbo its signature flavor, but it doesn’t have much thickening power. I just cooked it a couple minutes, and then stirred in the stock.

Another tweak is using pickled okra instead of fresh or frozen. This particular perversion was born out of necessity rather than some brilliant thought on my part. Of course, if this technique catches on, that story will change. The pickled okra gave the gumbo a great flavor and added a little bit of acidity, which is always welcome in something this substantial.

This can be made with hundreds of different combinations of smoked meats, game, poultry, and seafood; and in my opinion, the more the merrier. As usual, I’d love to hear about any variations you may come up with. As you’ll see, the procedure is pretty straightforward, although you’re talking about a full day’s project. This is a dish that takes time, but I still hope you give it a try. Enjoy!

2 duck legs

1 tbsp vegetable oil, more as needed

1 cup flour, plus 2 tbsp for second addition
6 cups chicken broth

1 pound andouille sausage

1 large onion, chopped

4 green onions chopped

1 cup celery, chopped

1 cup diced peppers (any combination of sweet and hot)

1 cup diced tomatoes

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1 bay leaf

1 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, or to taste

1 smoked pork hock
2 cups water, or as needed
1 cup sliced okra, fresh, frozen or pickled
1 pound gulf shrimp
1 pound crawfish tail meat or langoustine
rice to garnish

Yerp: Part 4 - Les Sentiers Gourmands.

 May 15, 2011

This morning I awoke, as I had every morning thus far, at the crack of dawn, way earlier than the others in the Little House. I was excited. The Group had to meet at 10am at Abbaye des Monges on the edge of the Massif de la Clape to begin our day experiencing that which is Les Sentiers Gourmands. 

The Jump-Off. (Photo courtesy of Emma)

This was the eighth year for the 5 kilometer wine walk and, from what I heard, the most physically demanding. Upon congregating at the starting point we were all given a pouch to hold our wine glass, which hung around our neck and rested in our, um, cleavage, wooden cutlery, a book of the tastings and finally a straw hat.

Me & Dad rocking our wine walking kits. Note wine glass in pouch. (Photo courtesy of Emma)

And we were on our way. On our way to eat and drink our way through beautiful, scenic vineyards, and up a big, steep, rocky mountain. The hike was punctuated with six stops of food (menu proposed by Marc Schwall Cooks Cellars in Narbonne), and over 40 AOC Languedoc-La Clape wines presented by the winemakers or wine cooperatives.

I believe at our first stop where we were given the Artichoke gazpacho with fennel and olive oil, and about 4 or 5 different wines to taste, Emma turned to me and exclaimed, “I don’t know how anyone could actually get drunk doing this.” I giggled silently to myself, and thought, “Oh, Emma…”

The gazpacho was divine, cool in temperature, yet warm in body and texture. I wanted more. But we were given our 6 tickets, one for each taste, and I certainly didn’t want to miss out on any of the others. I will be trying to make an artichoke gazpacho on my own very soon.

The stretch between the first and second stop was downright grueling. Straight. Up. Hill. With lotsa rocks everywhere. So upon reaching the summit (first one there!), the little man selling his little jars of rosemary honey was a welcome sight indeed. So I bought a jar of honey to bring home to Maggie.

The next taste was the eggplant marmalade and Collioure anchovies, pepper coulis and Espelette. And a lot of different rosés. All of the different wineries served their tastes atop wooden wine barrels, which was pretty cool.

(Photo courtesy of Dale)

And on we walked, the lot of us. We walked, at times, in various groups, with a partner or a trio, or alone. There was a lot of time and a lot of wine and a lot of walking. It was, quite possibly the most beautiful, inspiring, and romantic thing I have ever experienced.

(Photo courtesy of Dale)

The next stand offered us St. Jacques scallops in hot cold crayfish cake (that's the best translation I could come up with).

The stretch from scallop stop to our next stop was right about the time when Emma and I were laughing about her comment upon embarking on this adventure. Hell, we were all laughing about everything at this point. I guess we were getting a little tipsy. Not just because of the wine. It was just all so potent. Everything about it.

(Photo courtesy of Dale)

This brings us to probably my dad's favorite, the parmentier of duck confit, eggplant and mushrooms, dried, juice and tomato stew (again, best translation I could muster). This dish was both a delicacy for the eyes and mouth. Beautiful, big reds were paired at this stop.

(Photo courtesy of Dale)

I can honestly say that, after this stop, which was the most filling in both food and wine, I was in the clouds a bit. I walked the next stretch alone for the most part. Happily.

And then I met up with everyone again at the next stand; a selection of goat cheeses by Mas Combebelle. 

The cheeses were ripe, supple, briny and lovely. They were the perfect thing to slice through the big, palate lingering flavors and textures from the duck confit stop.

And then, as if it all lasted but a moment, we found ourselves at what appeared to be a little outdoor festival. There was a band, children dancing, dozens and dozens of people that had already finished the walk, more flooding in at each moment. This was our final stop. This was where we were served the “Success” with caramelized apples and raisins, caramel rosemary and coffee (or more wine). I sorta wished I had doubled up my tickets way back at the artichoke gazpacho stop as this dish was very much not my cup of tea (cooked fruit issues).

But it mattered not. I was absolutely sated.

So, I sat with the members of The Group that had arrived, sipped another glass of wine, stepped on - and ruined - my favorite sunglasses, and waited for the remaining members of The Group.

Before we left I picked up an apron for Doug and we all bought a selection of the favorite wines we had tasted throughout the day.

That evening we all went across the street from our houses to Joelle and his wife Maria's house for a beautiful meal and more wine. It was, perhaps, one of the most decadent and splendorous of days I have spent in memory, and one that would be near impossible to recreate.

Well and so, Emma and I capped off this evening with a bottle or two more bottles of wine while laying in our beds, sighing, giggling, and taking stock of the last thirty-six seventy-two (who's even counting, now?) week, the whirlwind, of our adventure. 

Chris, pouring one out for our homie, France. (Photo courtesy of Emma)

This concludes the France part of Yerp. Up next, Barcelona!

Sentiers Gourmands:

Price per person € 48, price group over 12 persons € 45, € 10 child less than 10 years.

Narbonne Tourist Office, 31 rue Jean Jaures, 11100 Narbonne.

Tel 04 68 65 15 60 Tel 04 68 65 15 60

Yerp: Part 2 - An Evening in Gruissan.

My first morning in Armissan.

May 13, 2011

I had this vision of the France leg of the vacation. I saw a lot of nothing. I saw myself reading, writing, eating, cooking, staring into space and sipping wine – all in a lovely, pastoral milieu. I envisioned a lot of silence. Save for the birds chirping and the rooster crowing. 

There was no reading or writing. At all. There was little to no silence. There was, however, a great deal of eating and sipping wine. There was a great deal of the wine. All in a lovely, pastoral milieu.  

The little house.

The first time I was there, three years ago, Chris, Jean-Jacques and I dined at a restaurant called La Cranquette, in Gruissan. It was my favorite, and most memorable, meal of that trip (and we even went to Vieux Puit in Fontjoncouse). It was a tiny, charming, casual, spot in a tiny, charming town on the Mediterranean. All of the food is cooked in a kitchen the size of my thumbnail, and everything is cooked on a griddle. Even my seared ahi tuna over a slab of foie gras. Yes, you read correctly.

  

So, for our second night in France, all fourteen (14) of us occupied the expanse of outside tables at La Cranquette (had we sat inside (my preference) we would have filled the entire space)). The place hadn’t changed a bit, which warmed my heart. Our waitress, Nadeen, was sweet and was able to keep us sufficiently herded, so to speak. And, although she spoke with a perfect regional French accent, she was from New York. This made things easier as well. That's her above, holding plates and whatnot.

 

Dinner was excellent. With such a large group I imagine we ordered everything on the menu. But I ordered pretty much exactly what I had ordered there three years ago. I started with tellines, which are little wedge clams sautéed in a little foie gras. And then I had the duck breast served under a generous slab of foie gras (yes, I did) with a reduction and some Pyrenees honey. Holy little baby Jesus. 

Decadence.

Jean-Jacques (who ordered a dish aptly, and cleverly, titled "Mars Attack" (see picture below)) took over in the wine department by selecting all local, regional (and delicious) bottles for the table.

What a truly beautiful meal. I highly recommend this restaurant.

For a full set of pictures of the evening click here.

I believe Emma and I capped off this evening with a bottle or two more bottles of wine while laying in our beds, sighing, giggling, and taking stock of the last few twenty-four hours, the whirlwind, of our adventure.

Which had, really, only just begun...

Armissan

 

I Left My Heart in San Fran-Cheesy; Part 1, Thursday.

Although I am itching to deviate, temporarily – as I do – from the restaurant writings, as there seem to be a few in a row at present, and I know everyone is just waiting with bated breath for my next story about how some very personal chunk of my life relates to one of my recipes, which I then share, I would be remiss if I didn’t discuss my recent trip to San Francisco and some dining out experiences with you.

Was that run on sentence?

Anyway, that being said, you will all have to wait a bit longer for my celery root soup with sunchoke “croutons” recipe.

Ever since food found such a prominent, and dominant, part of my life, I have wanted to go to Chez Panisse. But, as I have been able to travel little in the past seven or so years, it has not been checked off the list. Until very recently, that is.

A month or so ago I decided I was going to bust a move up the coast for one of my culinary adventures. I had fully intended to go at it alone until one night, after blathering on about my plan to Minty, it was decided: we were going to team up and conquer the food and cocktail scene in San Francisco together.

And so, two weeks ago, in my rented Toyota Corolla (my car would never make the journey, nor would anyone want to spend that much time in it), Minty and I hit the road. She, with her weekend bag. Me, with the suitcase I used when I spent two weeks in Europe – full. I am the world’s most horrible packer.

We were all set, cruising up the I-5N, had my iPod playing tunes, us, chatting away. About an hour and a half to two hours in, I look down and notice A. I’m going about 90 miles per hour, B. I have no actual clue what the speed limit is, and C. Regardless of the speed limit it is almost certain that I am speeding. And, D. right at that crucial moment, I also decide to pass the car in front of me. That car was a cop. First speeding ticket ever, check.

The remainder of the drive was glitch free with the exception of coming frighteningly close to running out of gas only moments after the whole ticket affair. Hey, I don’t proclaim to being that awesome of a driver. Just take a look at my car sometime.

The view from Carina's.

Well, rest easy, we made it there alive – and in amazing time! Upon arrival, I wanted coffee. Minty led us to wine. Oh, I suppose I can have a glass of wine. Or two.

You gotta love The Castro.

After settling in at our host, (and Minty’s friend) Carina’s place and having a little time to freshen up, the three of us headed out, on foot, to dinner. It was a beautiful, crisp night and I thoroughly enjoyed every second of soaking in the air and the city during our walk. 

That night we dined at Heirloom Cafe. The girls wanted to go to Frances, but as the wait was a bit, ahem, excessive we continued walking until we arrived at Heirloom. The girls were sweet. They knew my style was along the lines of sustainable, local, simple food – and they wanted to cater to it. Again, very conscientious of the ladies.

Heirloom was right up my alley. It actually reminded me, aesthetically, of a lot of the restaurants/cafes/bistros I grew up eating in back in Richmond. Small, and intimate, with wooden floors, vintage wall-paper, high, tin-stamped ceilings, and an airy, rustic feel. It also felt like Richmond in that we were the only guests under 50 years-old in the house. Interestingly, I discovered later that Heirloom, which opened up in the Mission District less than a year ago, is the brainflower of Matt Straus, former wine director at Wilshire and Grace, right here in sunny Los Angeles.

We were seated at a long, communal farm table that extended along the length of the middle of the room.  The wine list was tremendously impressive and about as big as a Tolstoy novel. After some dialogue with our affable server, we selected a beautiful, warm and rounded 2001 Savennieres, Baumard, which ended up pairing very nicely with everything we had to eat.

I thought the menu was small and precise. I always appreciate a tight, confident menu. We started with the Dungeness crab, endive, brioche croutons, lemon emulsion ($14), and a fresh linguine with shaved black truffles (I don’t recall the price). I was tremendously fond of the fresh, tart, and spritely salad. Those buttery, brioche croutons made me smiley from the inside out.

I am on an extreme pasta kick right now, and this was pretty great. The noodles were delicate and sanguine. And who can argue with a shaved, black truffle, especially in January! I could have had these two dishes all to myself, with that bottle of Savennieres and been fully sated and absolutely happy.

We then each ordered an entrée and sampled one another’s choices. Carina opted for the Maine sea scallops, sweet mashers, frisee, brown butter, currants ($22), Minty went with the fish soup, PEI mussels, manila clams, roasted fennel, saffron broth ($20), and I had the sliced duck breast, farro, carrots, confit cabbage, port sauce ($22). Minty also ordered the roasted yam risotto, chanterelles, crispy shallots, pistou ($15). She just couldn’t resist.

The duck, sadly, was a little disappointing in that it was under-seasoned. It was, however, cooked to perfection and its accoutrements were delightful. I loved the farro and port. Minty’s fish soup had a bold, beautiful broth and was chock full of fruits of the sea. I love fennel. I love saffron. I love seafood. I don’t normally opt for Bouillabaisse-like dishes (you never know what might float to the top), but I enjoyed my tastes of this dish. The risotto was outstanding. It was perfectly toothsome, slightly sweet, earthy and incorporated a perfect ceremony of color, taste and texture. I enjoyed Carina’s scallop dish as well. The scallops were spot on, but while I appreciated the brown butter, I was not necessarily a fan of the currants and sweet mash as plate partners. I realize I am a bit of a nut with the fruity stuff and my sweet and savory getting too muddled, but I honestly was just unsure about this dish conceptually, as a whole. I will add that I was alone with this opinion.

And this brings us to dessert – not something I normally indulge in, but what the hell - it was vacation. We got the apple and pear butter cake and a play on the Oreo, a cake-like concoction called o Ree Oh Or ee oHH cake. I loved the actual cake part of the pear and butter cake. The chocolate-y o Ree Oh Or ee oHH cake was fun, but by this time I needed a wheelbarrow to roll me out. Stick a fork in me, I’m done – you know?

Good stuff, Heirloom. If and when I return to San Francisco, I will return to you.

After dinner we met up with Donovan, a friend of Carina and Minty’s, and headed to a couple of bars where we bellied up and finished out the night. I recall a cute bartender at our second stop. I recall a cab ride home. I recall a sound night of sleep after a long drive and our first night of our adventure. I recall a couple of girls with tiny (ahem) hangovers the next morning.

More exciting San Francisco culinary adventures coming tout suite – including the eagerly anticipated Chez Panisse story, so stay tuned…