Last Supper In La Touche

For our last night in La Touche we tried to finish off every edible thing in the house before packing up. I recruited a few friends to help hunt down, peel, and chop every vegetable we could find lurking about. I sautéed the brightly colored mass of veggie goodness in olive oil until slightly softened before adding thyme, a bay leave, and a quart of homemade chicken stock. Everything made its way into the copper stewpot: turnips, carrots, red onions, shallots, garlic, celeriac, celery, and potatoes. I cooked the soup for about an hour then passed it through a mixer to create a smooth puree which I spooned into bowls and topped with chopped chives. It was the perfect dish, simultaneously warm and hearty, to serve on a cold winter night after a long afternoon walk in the woods. We walked to a majestic lake with tons of ducks flying around and sitting on the shimmering water. The landscape was absolutely stunning on a clear though frigid day in the French countryside. I began to feel a touch of guilt for eating foie gras but alas it is a delicious food that I get to enjoy rarely.

Our second course was another dish intended to do away with the excess of leftovers accumulating in the refrigerator. Jean-Claude took a large bowl of leftover spaghetti Bolognese and topped it with gruyere, parmesan, and a bit of olive oil to create a gratin of sorts. I looked at him rather quixotically as he prepared the gratin but he assured me that it would be good and more importantly that people would eat it. He was right on both accounts. While rummaging through the refrigerator I stumbled upon a large container of ginger-chocolate sauce that our friend had used in his New Years Eve dessert. I promptly thinned the ebony concoction with some cold milk and threw it in our fancy icecream maker. Thirty minutes later we had little scoops of seemingly light chocolate ice cream though I hesitate to call it that because it did not have any eggs or cream and had a mouth feel more like granita. We successfully recycled leftover foods and created new dishes from the remnants that would have otherwise been thrown away. As they say in France, c’est la crise or it’s the economic crisis! The French are eternally poetic. As always, I encourage you to enjoy and share delicious food and home cooked meals with yourself and others!

Saturday Farm Lunch

Our lunch this afternoon corresponded to the running motif of the last few days; gourmet meals that are simply prepared and scrumptious above all. Our Saturday lunch consisted of a big omelet made with our own farm fresh eggs, potatoes, and red onion. We are all impressed by the determination of our chickens that have been continually laying eggs despite the frigid temperatures. Normally when the temperatures drop so do the number of eggs as hens choose to reserve their body heat for themselves. The omelet came out fantastically, nice and thick with a crunchy surface and savory soft interior after being cooked in olive oil and finished in a hot oven. The size and shape resembled a tortilla espagnol, the large omelets served in cake-like wedges in Spanish tapas joints. The omelet was accompanied by a warm crusty loaf of bread, a mache and romaine salad, and some slices of the aforementioned Spanish ham brought back by my father. It was a quaint farm lunch savored by all paired with a nice bottle of Clos l’Oratoire from the Rhone valley. There is nothing more French and more perfect in my mind than a nice omelet, side salad, and glass of red wine for lunch. I think we all agreed that after the prior days of feasting a little simplicity was exactly what we needed. As always, I encourage you to enjoy and share delicious food and home cooked meals with yourself and others!

Foie Gras, Take Two

The house has been getting quieter as more and more people have left to return to their respective homes. Instead of going out grocery shopping to buy new ingredients, we have been cleaning out the pantry, fridge, and cellar. There is a ton of fresh produce, leftover meats, and cheeses to make it through the remaining days before we head back to Paris. I have taken over the cooking responsibilities to grant my father and Jean-Claude some well deserved rest after spending four consecutive days and nights slaving in the kitchen.

I have been making very simple things that please a crowd like spaghetti Bolognese, vegetable soup, celeriac brandade, and tons of salads. I discovered that the refrigerator held two of the four foie gras prepared for the New Years Eve cocktail hour and promptly served them as the main protein at lunch. I have already described the process of making these delicious homemade foie, one steamed in a bain marie after being marinated in port and one “cooked” in sea salt. My mother always joked that foie tastes and looks like meat peanut butter and I have to agree with her silly observation.

The foie au sel is my favorite though I like the combination of smooth foie and yellowish fat of the cooked foie au porto which pairs wonderfully with fruit compotes and vinegary sauces. I cut the foies into thick slices served with toast, fig compote, and onion jam. Foie gras is rich, elegant, and very filling; reinforcing my philosophy that gourmet food need not be overly complicated. As always, I encourage you to enjoy and share delicious food and home cooked meals with yourself and others!

Oysters, Oysters, Oysters!

It is a national tradition of sorts in France to eat oysters on the first day of the new year. I happen to love oysters so it was an exciting morning for me. Oysters are a bit tough to put down however after a long night of drinking everything from champagne to red wine, vodka to armagnac. I woke up rather late and the kitchen was already rife with movement as a small group furiously shucked the sixteen dozen oysters purchased for the occasion. We were all feeling a bit exhausted from the heavy night of eating and decided to have a “light” lunch of oysters, salad, and cheese. The French eat their oysters in a fundamentally different fashion than Americans; they serve them alive in their opaque alabaster shells. The taste is best when they are at the pinnacle of freshness and wiggle a bit when you apply a splash of lemon or vinegar. It may be an idea that is difficult to swallow for some but I find oysters alive or bien vivant absolutely delicious. It was quite a sight to see them all working with blue plastic mittens and oyster knives in hand, filling platter after platter with the small sea creatures.

Cheese is one of my favorite things in the world and I love it all from the moldiest and stinkiest to the young and creamy. Mimolette and Roquefort are currently my favorites though I am a fickle gourmet and often change the subject of my favoritism. Mimolette is a dark orange cheese from northern France that is soaked in beer then aged for six months in large wheels. The color and flavor of this hard cheese is wonderful, not too salty with tons of tanginess resembling sharp cheddar. Roquefort is pretty well known and readily available in certain gourmet cheese shops in the States though the reserve Roquefort from Mary-Anne Cantin in Paris is far and away the best. Our cheese board consisted of the two aforementioned cheeses, Comte, Appenzeller, four types of chevre, Brebis, Fourme D’Ambert, and two other cow’s milk cheeses whose names escape me. A simple no-fuss lunch of oysters and cheese is exactly what we needed after the intricacies of New Years Eve. As always, I encourage you to enjoy and share delicious food and home cooked meals with yourself and others!

New Years Eve Feast

New Years Eve was finally upon us. After four days of preparation, planning, and patience, we sat down to eat what was sure to be one of the most ambitious meals I have ever seen come out of a home kitchen. Every dish, except the main, was plated and served à l'assiette meaning individually composed and served from the kitchen. The courses were intended to follow a progression from cold to hot, gradually increasing in richness before finishing on a sweet note with a round of desserts. It is a tradition in France to have a trou normand or palate cleanser to wash away the residual fat and savory flavors before moving onto the sweet. We had a champagne sorbet which I unfortunately forgot to photograph that was a perfect cleanser, sweet and effervescent with a slight alcoholic kick. The dinner lasted about three hours, as it always should, full of laughter and good conversation fueled by fantastic vintages from around France. The highlight was a 1986 Carruades de Lafite Rothschild from Pauillac in the Bordeaux region; an elegant wine with solid tannins and robust flavor that paired wonderfully with the truffles in the salad and the spiced pork dish.

Jean-Claude and I were in charge of the first three courses, the cold appetizer, soup, and salad. The first course was a Franco-Japanese fusion dish of raw fish; four different species with four unique sauces to accompany them. The first (clockwise from the small bowl) was a sea scallop carpaccio with fresh mandarin. Jean-Claude and I marinated the raw scallops in fresh squeezed mandarin juice and olive oil for about a half hour before serving. We also candied long strips of the zest and made a syrup of the juice and a bit of sugar. Jean-Claude and I chose to present to dish by using the fresh mandarins in multiple ways. We spooned a bit of mandarin flesh into each bowl before adding four thin slices of scallop topped with a mandarin segment, a few drops of the syrup, and a strip of zest. This was far and away the highlight of the first course and perhaps the highlight of the meal though it is a stretch to be so reductionist this early in the description and I readily admit a personal bias because I helped make it. The second fish was a thick slice of tuna coated with a ginger, sesame oil, and wasabi glaze. It was a classic combination borrowed from the sushi tradition of Japan and the slight bite of the wasabi was an interesting counterpoint to the fattiness of the tuna. The third fish was a gorgeous piece of salmon caught off the coast of Scotland which I marinated briefly in a blend of raspberry vinegar and aged balsamic. The final raw fish to complete the first course was a thin slice of Mediterranean Sea bass that I basted with Spanish olive oil, fresh thyme, and red peppercorns. The four fishes were of excellent quality and came from the fishmonger at Le Dome, arguably the best in Paris and Jean-Claude and I tried to avoid augmenting their natural flavor with too many additional ingredients.

The second course was Jean-Claude’s famous beef and vegetable consommé that takes five days to prepare. It is a bit to long and complicated to detail every step in the process but simply put, you make a stock with beef meat, bones, vegetables, and herbs. After an initial stage of lengthy simmering and straining, you chill the broth and skim the fat which rises to the surface. Then you make a second stock from the existing broth with the same ingredients, deepening the color and flavor as you add to it. On the third day you add roasted marrowbones, and chopped vegetables instead of whole ones and continue to reduce, strain, and skim the broth. The fourth day is the most complicated and I have already described the process of using egg whites to purify and concentrate the stock, removing any impurities and fat that have lingered. Jean-Claude served the soup in clear bowls to highlight the beautiful golden color and topped it simply with chopped chervil. The consommé is literally one of the most delicious dishes I have ever tasted, a paragon of the interplay between complexity and simplicity.

The third course was a carpaccio of two types of beet with mache lettuce and black truffle. We roasted white and red beets in the oven with a bit of olive oil and salt until tender but not completely cooked to reserve a bit of crunch. Jean-Claude sliced them paper thin on a mandolin and I placed them in a circle on each plate. We piled a bit of mache in the middle, added a few slices of black truffle, and a vinaigrette of walnut oil, olive oil, Jerez vinegar, and minced truffle. The earthy flavors of the beet and truffle complimented each other nicely and the crispness of the mache rounded out the dish. Mache and truffle is a common combination in French cooking and we simply updated the classic by adding beets.

My father prepared the fourth and main course of the meal, an ancient Roman pork dish. Apicius is the title of a collection of Roman recipes compiled in the late 4th or early 5th century by a renown chef, arguably the first cookbook ever committed to reproduction. My father has long been intrigued by this anthology of ancient recipes compiled by one of the earliest gourmets. The dish is made with Roman ingredients like dried fruit, wine, honey, and dill cooked with pork and stock for hours until the flavors marry. The sweetness of the apricots and raisins added a rich depth of flavor to the stewed chunks of fork-tender pork. My father made two separate purees to be served alongside one another and accompany the pork; one of flageolet and the other of turnips and parsnips. Flageolet beans are immature kidney beans that are a delicacy in France but are very hard to find in the US. He simply boiled the beans in a bit of salted water before passing them through a mixer with a bit of butter and olive oil. The turnip and parsnip puree followed much the same method except he steamed the cubed vegetables before blending. The champagne sorbet followed this highly aromatic pork dish and refreshed or palates after the savory onslaught of the first half of the meal.

I rarely make desserts and was never very good at baking therefore I have nothing but the utmost respect for those engaged in the world of sweets. The desserts served last night were nothing short of remarkable, marked by the elegant juxtaposition of fruit and chocolate. The first dessert was a pineapple ravioli with mango-pepper sorbet and a blueberry, raspberry, and thyme coulis. Two of my father’s friends cleverly enveloped a passion fruit and cilantro mousse in two paper thin slices of pineapple caramelized in sugar syrup to create a fruit ravioli. The sorbet consisted of fresh mangoes pureed with a touch of lime juice and three different types of peppercorns crushed into a powder with a mortar and pestle. The sweetness of the fruit was accentuated by the bite of the pepper and paired well with the tanginess of the ravioli. They topped the dish with a pineapple juice reduction and the bright red coulis to add contrasting color. It was absolutely amazing and thoroughly raised the bar on the art of pastry making at home. A close family friend who has been the designated pastry chef for the past several years who specializes in cakes, ice creams, and chocolate made the second dessert. He prepared a small tuile filled with a tiny flourless chocolate cake and a chestnut mousse. The small chocolate/chestnut structure was served next to a couple of slices of moist pumpkin spice bread and a chocolate sauce infused with fresh ginger. The fruit ravioli was a tough act to follow though he held his own and it was nice to have a bit of chocolate to end the meal.

I would say the night was a big success and that the days of preparation were well worth the trouble. Our guests had a great time and we started the year off on a delicious note; basking in the company of others and praising the dishes we had cooked. It will be hard to top this year’s indulgence though we do have a whole year to think about it. Thank you all for your support and I wish only the very best to you and yours. As always, I encourage you to enjoy and share delicious food and home cooked meals with yourself and others!