Saturday, November 19, 2011

Seafood Cassoulet

  

When I think of cassoulet, I think of heavy, hearty, hearthy - as in cooked in a large iron pot over the fire in an ancient kitchen fireplace.  Cassoulet is made for surviving the winter, the cold, dark, damp winter.  Most recipes for cassoulet call for duck leg, sausage, and pork.  Its white beans become a fourth fat delivery device, just the kind of thing you would want in the ruins of a medieval castle, still smoldering from the most recent sectarian strife.  
    
Rural southwestern France gave us traditional cassoulet, but their rustic tendencies do not always translate to our modern needs for time, convenience and lighter fare.  This seafood cassoulet from Le Cordon Bleu at Home is a take on the traditional dish, but is far less heavy and time consuming.  The biggest surprise is how a simple list of ingredients can provide so much more flavor in combination.  The trout, scallops and shrimp are lighter and healthier than the fat-filled pork and duck leg of cassoulet.  You will thank yourself for preparing this comfort food, and doing so without completely filling your arteries.  Serves 4.
    
Ingredients:
2 cups chicken stock
1 can white beans, such as Great Northern, drained and rinsed  
1 large onion, chopped
1 bouquet garni
2 carrots, diced
4 tbsp vegetable oil
6 tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 can diced tomatoes
2 trout filets
1/2 lb shrimp, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1 cup scallops, in 1/2 inch chunks
1/2 cup bread crumbs
    
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  In a sauce pan over medium high heat add the chicken stock, beans, 1/2 the onions, carrot and bouquet garni.  Bring to a boil and simmer.  Meanwhile, in a large sautee pan over medium high heat, warm 2 tbsp of butter and 2 tbsp oil.  When bubbling, add the trout and brown on both sides, seasoning with salt and pepper to taste.  Remove and cut into 1/2 inch pieces.  Brown the shrimp and scallops and set aside.  Add the remaining butter and oil and the remaining onions.  Soften the onions until just starting to turn golden then add the garlic.  Cook for 30 seconds and then add the tomato.  Season with salt and pepper and simmer for 15 minutes, reducing the heat if necessary.  Drain the bean mixture and add to the tomato mixture.  Stir in the cooked seafood and adjust the seasoning as needed.  Pour the combined cassoulet into an oven proof dish.  Spread the bread crumbs on top and dot with small pieces of the remaining 2 tbsp of butter.  Bake until the bread crumbs are golden brown, about 10 minutes.
    

Friday, November 18, 2011

Coconut Poached Cod

   
  
When is it important to be delicate?  The male instinct is to avoid such a characterization.   Our male heroes are not delicate.  There are no delicate football players, no delicate warriors, no delicate orators.  Our role models may possess finesse and agility, but that is in applying strength and power.  At home, we may act gently, with our infants or our lovers, but never delicately.  Even delicate questions are never posed, they are either avoided or answered without asking.
   
In today's kitchen, many of our tastes are robust, fiery and forward.  Southwestern spices are prominent, rustic dishes appreciated, basic colors and flavors asked to pop.  Still, there is a cuisine and technique where delicate is the key.  Flavors are hinted at, layered, perfumed.  For me, that is Asian cooking, especially the preparations of Jean-Georges Vongerichten.  His dishes reflect not the bold, loud flavors of a market or ethnic dance, but the gentle, soft textures of a water garden.  His ingredients bubble, waft and scent.  His dishes don't make you stand up and salsa, they make you close your eyes and tune into your senses.  Lemongrass, kaffir lime, cilantro, basil, garlic, Thai chile, shallots, coconut, all applied softly, modestly, allowing each flavor to remain delicately, available, alluring.  
   
Want to feel that way on a Tuesday night?  All you need to do is prepare a dish like this.  It includes a bed of eggplant for balance and color, and an herb crust for texture.  Best of all, this isn't some sort of French veal sauce that must be cooked for a day and strained 20 times.  This recipe from from Vongerichten's Asian Flavors cookbook is an easy, relatively short, and certainly straightforward preparation and presentation.  It also makes it ok to be delicate.  Serves 2.
     
Ingredients:
1 eggplant, cut into 1/2 cubes
salt
5 tbsp butter
1 red Thai chile, seeded and finely chopped
1/2 lemon grass stalk, trimmed and finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
1 tbsp minced mint leaves
1 tbsp minced cilantro leaves
1 tbsp minced basil leaves
2 shallots, sliced
2 kaffir lime leaves, sliced
2 cod fillets
pinch of cayenne pepper
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup coconut milk
1 tsp lime juice
1/2 tsp fish sauce
     
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  Start a pot of water over high heat to boil for steaming the eggplant.  In a colander, rinse and drain the eggplants.  Generously sprinkle with salt, stir, and allow to sit for 20 minutes.  Meanwhile, make a crust mix by heating 2 tbsp of butter in a skillet over medium heat.  To the melted butter add half the chiles, 1/2 the lemon grass and the garlic and cook for 30 seconds to open the flavors.  Add the bread crumbs and saute, stirring frequently until the breadcrumbs are lightly browned.  Remove the bread crumbs to a bowl and allow to cool.  Stir in the mint, cilantro and basil.
    
Rinse and drain the eggplants and then steam until tender, about 7 minutes.  Set aside and keep warm.  
    
Add 2 tbsp of butter to a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the shallots, remaining chile and lemon grass, lime leaves and salt to taste.  When the shallots are softened, season the cod with salt and cayenne and add to the pan.  Add the wine and bring to a boil.  Cover the skillet and transfer to the oven.  Poach the fish, depending on thickness for 6 to 10 minutes.  Test by piercing with a meat thermometer, holding in the fish for a few seconds, and then placing on your tongue.  If it is warm, the fish is done.  Turn the oven to broil and remove the fish.  Transfer the fish to a baking sheet and return the skillet with the shallot mixture to the stove top over medium high heat.  Add the coconut milk and cook until the sauce is reduced and thickened.  About 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, top each piece of fish with a layer of the crust mix.  Add small pieces of the remaining butter on top and place under the broiler for a minute or two to heat the crust and brown a little more.  To serve, put the eggplants on the plate first and place the fish on top.  Stir into the pan sauce the lime juice and fish sauce to taste.  Spoon around the fish and serve.
    

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Portugese Not-Tripe Stew

     

It is said that the people of Oporto, Portugal don't even like Port wine, even though it is named after their town. They prefer red table wine instead.  That makes sense since Port actually comes from the Douro Valley, about 40 miles upriver from the seaside Oporto.  Port is also a foreign creation for foreign markets.  British entrepreneurs created Port because the red wine they were importing was going bad before it reached England.  That led them to fortify the wine with a neutral grape spirit, which stopped fermentation and preserved it for its journey abroad.

What is locally associated with Oporto is tripe stew.  Portuguese are historically referred to as "tripeiros" or tripe eaters.  In their glory days of sea exploration, Portuguese ship crews received the best meats for their journeys, leaving only the unwanted leftover cuts for the locals.  Tripe became a part of Portuguese culinary history.  You can't blame the local tourism board for highlighting Port wine over tripe stew.  Can you imagine?  "Come to our country and eat our historic cow stomach lining recipes!"
     
In no way am I encouraging you to eat tripe.  It may be good, but neither of us will discover that tonight.  Instead, this journey of discovery is another way to turn the ordinary into something interesting and tasty.  You can imagine the need to turn tripe into something engaging.  They threw everything at it, different additional cuts of meat, mainly pork, spices, wine, garlic.  The result is a stew that is quite tasty and quintessentially Iberian.  In Oporto, where they use white beans mixed in with the stew, it is called simply Tripas.  In the south where they substitute chickpeas it is called Dobrada.  My recipe leaves out the tripe and puts back in the beef.  This Portuguese preparation makes this beef stew something more than the flour, carrots and potatoes that I am trying to avoid.  It includes the paprika and cumin, onions and tomato, wine and garlic of Iberian cooking.  The Portuguese will also add chorizo.  I find that overpowering, and left it out.  Try this version, it is just as authentic as Port wine.  Serves 4.

Ingredients:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 lb beef stew cubes
2 small or 1 large yellow onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tbsp paprika
1 tsp cumin
1 cup dry red wine
1 can diced tomatoes
1 bay leaf
1 can garbanzo beans
2 cups cooked rice

Preparation:
Heat the olive oil in a dutch oven over medium-high heat.  When the oil is smoking, add the beef and season with salt and pepper.  Brown the beef on all sides, and then add the onions and garlic.  Soften the onions for several minutes and then add the paprika and cumin.  Allow the spices to release their flavors for a couple of minutes and then add the wine.  Scrape up the browned bits on the bottom of the pot and add the diced tomatoes, with their juices, and the bay leaf.  Bring to a boil, cover, reduce the heat and simmer for 30 minutes.  Stir in the garbanzo beans and simmer the stew for 30 more minutes.  Serve over rice.
   

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Peas with Lettuce, Chervil and Onions

    
 
"Eat your peas!" you can imagine someone saying that, a parent, or more stereotypically an evil boarding school headmaster.  I don't like peas.  It's a basic preference.  I just don't like the taste.  Although, I do cook with peas from time to time.  I included them tonight in a gnocchi dish I make with a vodka sauce, bacon and onions.  The peas add color, and a little crunch, but you can't taste them.  That is the key.  Peas for me are one of those things that are fine if I can't taste them.  Mushrooms are like that for many people.  They think they don't like them (although I do), but will eat dishes that include them because they blend into the background.  I also make a pea puree that I serve with scallops.  But there, the pea taste is reduced significantly in the puree with chicken stock and sauteed onion.

So, why am I suggesting a recipe for a side of peas?  Because this recipe for peas is a metaphor for life.  Part of it is "if life gives you lemons, make lemonade."  Part is turning beef stew into Beef Bourguignon.  There are many things we can do to make the best out of what life gives us, and to make life more interesting.  The French connection is also relevant here.  From time to time, I am working my way through the Le Cordon Bleu at Home cookbook.  It offers a series of meals, which are lessons in French cooking.  It starts from the beginning, roast chicken, and builds from there, through the basic sauces to all of the classics of French cooking.  Is their recipe for peas a French classic?  I have no idea.  But it is a wonderful example of how with simple ingredients and thoughtful preparation, we can make even peas more than edible, we can make them wonderful.
    
This is a lesson for every meal.  Don't just prepare a tomato sauce for your pasta, combine your tomato sauce with wine, and perhaps the liquid from reconstituted mushrooms.  In this case, don't just boil your peas, saute them with onions and butter, add an herb such as chervil.  And in a truly special, yet simple twist, cook with a chiffonade of lettuce.  That and a little sugar will give you the peas of your life.  Who knew little peas could take on such character?  They have taken on the character of you, the interesting you, the one who has cooked from a recipe, cooked in the French way, added flavor, no, added perfume to your dish.  The one who has given beauty even to peas.

That said, should you ever serve this dish to your family or friends?  No, of course not.  No one likes peas.  But make this for yourself, on that cold day when you roast a chicken, and you want to take care of yourself, and show yourself that you are special.  You will enjoy these peas, and you will enjoy yourself even more because you made them.  Remember that feeling, and transport these techniques, cooking with pearl onions, adding an infrequently used, delicate herb, maybe even sauteeing with lettuce.  Remember how you have the power to turn the ordinary into the sublime. 
    
Ingredients:
Several leafs of green lettuce
3 tbsp butter
1 cup peas
8 pearl onions, peeled
1/2 tsp chervil
1 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt

Directions:
Cut the lettuce into thin chiffonade strips.  In a heavy sauce pan over medium heat, melt the butter and add the lettuce, peas, onions and chervil.  Stir until the lettuce wilts.  Add 1/3 cup of water, the sugar and salt.  Bring to a simmer, cover and cook gently until the peas are tender, about 15 minutes.  Serve.