Mom's Retirement Celebration: A Very French Dinner

This past Friday was my mom's last day of work, after a long and fruitful career as a preschool teacher.  She is now a grandmother, and with my dad planning to cut back his work load in the immediate future, she decided that the timing was right for her to retire.

Not wanting to let a celebratory occasion go by with out a celebratory meal, I invited my folks over on Saturday for a French dinner.

My original plan was to attempt mom's favorite dish, beef wellington, which she does not get to eat more than once a year.  If you have never experienced this treat, beef wellington consists of a fillet minion, coated in pâté de foie gras encased in puff pastry.  It may be the most delicious way I have encountered to eat beef.  However, when I invited mom, knowing me as she does, she made one request, which was that I not make anything too caloric.  Damn it all.

Now, if I may digress, I shall explain how the meal that followed came to be.  In the summer of 2010, my family went to Europe for the wedding of a young lady who is like my other sister.  Her name is Cindy, and she came from Switzerland to live with my family for a year when I was about ten years old.  We have kept in close contact with her ever since.  Prior to her wedding in Zurich, my parents and I spent a week in the south of France.  This was my first and only trip to the culinary Mecca, but if I can help it, I will see that it is not my last.

The food in France blew my mind.  It was like nothing I had ever experienced.  Walking on the streets, everywhere I looked, every dive restaurant, every corner cafe, every little place - EVERY ONE OF THEM was a fine French bistro.  Every single piece of food that I saw in every shop window and on every passing plate, they all made me salivate.

French cooking uses only the freshest ingredients, and the society is set up in such a way that all food for sale is local.  There appeared to be no corporate food industry, no large grocery stores with food shipped from another part of the world.  Instead, food came from the outdoor markets, and the markets were staffed by farmers and artisans who grew, prepared or cultivated the goods themselves.  No food was processed or commercialized.  There was only produce and handmade foods.  Everything was specialized.  If you wanted bread, you had to go to a bread bakery, and if you wanted pastry then you had to go to a patisserie bakery.  Fruit was from the fruit seller, and fish from the fisherman.  This was such a radical departure from what I grew up knowing in the United States.  So many Americans naively believe that their food originates from the grocery store.  This way of thinking, this disregard for the origin of their food, this is why American society is so far removed from a local-supply food system.  The quality of the food and of Americans' health pays the price for this indignation.

The structure of the food system was the greatest revelation that I took away from France.  But the meals that I ate also left an indelible impression and acutely affected my own cooking style.  The single greatest cooking lesson that I ascertained in France was the potential of salads.  Two salads in particular opened my mind to what could be done to turn a salad into a complete meal.  And yes, I took pictures:

 Minced Veal with Herbs de Provence Stuffed Vegetables with Arugula Salad

 Duck Three Ways Salad

With Duck Breast Slices, Seared Duck Kidneys, and Duck Liver Pâté

The idea of throwing flavorful meats, simply prepared, on top of a pile of greens seems so basic.  But that it was such an obvious thing to do, and that the results were so magnificent was what impressed me.  Forgive me for generalizing, but men in my experience do not customarily order salads for their main course, lunch or dinner, at least not in the United States.  Women, who are on the whole more concerned about calories and their figures, are much more likely to have just a salad for a meal.  The salads that I had in France took the whole notion of "just a salad," and threw it out the window.  It proved to me that there is no reason why a salad cannot be a star at a dinner table.  It can be beautiful, it can be flavorful, and it can be filling.  Here are two other salads that I enjoyed in France:

 Salad with Hard Boiled Egg, Corn, Tomatoes and Mushroom

And Crepes (All Three Plates Were Shared)

 Salad with Pink Pepper Corns and Fresh Cevre on Croutons

When I returned to the States, I tried to implement what I had learned into practice.  Below is a Frenched rack of lamb I prepared with Dijon mustard and herbs, atop an arugula salad with beets in a sesame sauce.

 Dijon Glazed Rack of Lamb and Arugula Salad with Beats and Sesame

Then, a weekend lunch, my variation of a Nicoise Salad, with hard boiled egg, tuna, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, and raisins in an herbed lemon vinaigrette.

  Salad Nicoise

I took what I learned in France, and I did my best to incorporate it into my own cooking.  Now that the warm weather is upon us, and fresh fruits and vegetables are once again locally abundant, I hope to prepare many healthy salad meals for the girls and myself.

Now back to my mom's celebratory dinner. 

I decided that in order to keep things relatively healthy, I would attempt to recreate a salad dinner that I had enjoyed in Cannes, France.  The first salad pictured on this post was the main course: the minced veal with herbs de Provence stuffed vegetables with arugula.  For an appetizer, I had a country style pâté, and for desert, a chocolate layered/mouse/cake thing - pretty wonderful meal. 

For Mom's retirement meal, I bought a pre-made country style pâté.  Sorry to disappoint the readers who expected me to make it myself (I'll try some day soon).  Warm crusty bread, on which to spread the meat, is the most traditional accompaniment for pâté.  It also may be served with mustard (Dijon, grainy or both), and some kind of marmalade or fruit preserve.  Pâté can be categorized as a type of charcuterie, which is the fancy name for meat that has been salted, smoked or otherwise cured.  It is at its essence just a dressed up, spreadable variation of your mom's meatloaf.  Charcuterie is traditionally served with various accoutrements.  Some examples include dried fruit, nuts, cheese, and pickled foods.  For me, the appeal of charcuterie is twofold: 1) the savory accentuated flavor of the meat, enhanced by the curing process, and 2) playing with the accoutrements, combining flavors so that each bite is different.  For my pâté, I went all out with accoutrements.  

 

Country Style Pork Pâté with Accoutrements

Clockwise from top: pâté and microgreens, crusty bread, walnuts, Dijon mustard, 

Manchego cheese, dried currents, corniches, fig jam, edible flower

For the main course, I did my best to recreate the stuffed vegetables.  But for a few reasons, which I will not go into, I decided against baking the meat and vegetables together.  Instead, I cooked the ground veal on the stove top along with the herbs, some diced shallots, and a little brandy.  I then "stuffed" or really topped the  roasted vegetables with the veal.  I roasted yellow zucchini, eggplant, portabello mushrooms, yellow pepper, and (for my mom who can't have peppers) a vidalia onion.  I put four "stuffed" vegetables on each plate with a pile of arugula and micro greens, and topped everything with a simple salad dressing of olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar. 

Minced Veal with Herbs de Provence "Stuffed" Vegetables

With Arugula and Micro Green Salad and Aged Balsamic Vinaigrette

Roasted "Stuffed" Vegetables: 

Eggplant, Vidalia Onion (above), Yellow Pepper (below), Zucchini Squash, Portabello Mushroom

We indulged in a bubbly bottle of Moscato with the meal, and for desert, a chocolate chip, walnut banana bread, baked by my mother.  A good time was had by all.

Apologies to my readers for such a long post today.

And

Congratulations to my mom on entering this new chapter of her life, and for her fruitful and fulfilling career! 

It's Too Darn Hot

This week brought a terrible heat wave across much of the country, and my part of Connecticut was no exception.  Our apartment has no air conditioning, and the air flow from one end of the house to the other is agonizingly stagnant.  Heat causes physical discomfort as well as mental strain, and Vanessa and I found ourselves arguing over nuances of fan positioning and the mechanics of air airflow and temperature change.  So stupid! 

It was really, just too darn hot for June.  On the second day of the heat wave I managed to get away for a hike and swim with my friend Jackie, visiting home from the Peace Corps in Honduras.  We timed the outing perfectly in a respite between a pass-over thunder storm and a huge downpour that engulfed the area for the rest of the evening.  It was so nice to be in water on such a hot day.  We swam in a small natural pool, formed under a tiny waterfall in a local river, a place that I have returned to year after year since I was in high school.

Vanessa coincidentally, was also visiting a best friend of hers that, like me, she had not seen for a year.  Her visit required more of a trip than mine, and her car is insufferable in the heat.  Not only does her air conditioning not work, but the driver's window does not open!  The poor girl came home and collapsed. 

Now eventually this story needs to get to some food, right?  Well, here it comes.  I did not want to cook.  I did not want to turn on the stove for any significant period of time, and I certainly did not want to turn on the oven at all.  So what does one make when one is drained, tired, and wants to avoid the heat?

Pesto.

My herb garden has been more or less coming along these last few weeks; some herbs are healthy but slow to grow, some are deteriorating, and others (my chervil) have flat out died.  Fortunately, the most important herb in the garden, the basil, has taken off.  In the pouring rain that marked the end of the heat wave, I went out in my yellow raincoat, and snipped sprig after sprig of basil.  My basil is doing so well, that I daresay I could make pesto three times this week, and not hinder the plant's growth.

Fettuccine Rigate con Pesto

Dinner was delicious.  It sure as hell felt like summer, so it was refreshing to eat as if it were, nice and light.  The pesto, for those who care, was as basic as pesto gets: basil, toasted pine nuts, garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and grated parmesan cheese.  Very little actual cooking was done, just boiling water for pasta and toasting some nuts - everything else just came together in the food processor.

Thank God the heat is now over!

Indonesian Chicken

Last Wednesday I cooked some skinless chicken breasts in an Indonesian-style coconut curry.  When asked what she wanted done to the meat, Vanessa requested Indian food, so I looked through an Asian cookbook, and figured this was culinarily close enough.  It also happened to sound really delicious. 

I have recommended this cookbook before on this blog, but I really cannot say enough good things about it.  In fact, click here to buy it - you really should.  There are sections in the book on regional foods from China, Indonesia, Singapore/Malaysia, Philippines, Thailand, Laos/Cambodia, Vietnam, Korea, Japan, India/Pakistan, Burma, and Sri Lanka.  It calls for authentic spices and ingredients, not premade sauces or spice mixes.  Many recipes may be difficult if you do not have an overstocked pantry, but there are so many tantalizing recipes and pictures that it may encourage you to try new things.  I have certainly learned a great deal from this book.

For the dish that I made, which was a slight modification from the book's recipe, I blended onion, garlic, ginger and a little water into a paste in a food processor.  Then I cooked this in a pan with some coconut milk, turmeric, coriander, white pepper, salt, sriracha chili sauce, and ponzu (a Japanese citrus sauce that I used instead of the called for kaffir lime leaves).  I placed the chicken breasts, whole, in this mixture, and cooked them over a low heat for about forty minutes.  Then I removed the chicken, caked with chunks of onion sauce, and seared them on a grill pan to caramelize.  I reduced the sauce and pored it over the meat on the plate.  To go with this, I made some cardamom infused jasmine rice, with green peas and almond slivers.  I also heated up some frozen naan to help soak up the sauce.  Everything was topped with diced scallion and fresh cilantro from my herb garden.

Indonesian-Style Coconut Chicken

Cardamom Infused Jasmine Rice and Naan

Admittedly, this meal was lacking in vegetables.  I always try to cook a protein, starch and vegetable in every meal, and I dropped the ball on this one (the few peas mixed with the rice really should not count).  Everything was tasty though, so no one minded.

Another picture that I wanted to share, entirely unrelated, is of this amazing sandwich that I had last weekend in Florida.  Vanessa and I went to Amelia Island with my family for my cousin's wedding.  We had a great mini-vacation on the beach and at various wedding-related parties.  For lunch one day in the town of Fernandina Beach, we ate at a place called LuLu's.  Below is my fried soft shell crab sandwich, which was AMAZING!!!!

Dining Out: Scallops and Risotto!

Last week was the first night that Sarah, Vanessa and I were all home to enjoy dinner together outside on our new porch table.  Vanessa picked up some sea scallops, thinking that Sarah would not be home (she keeps kosher).  It was no problem, however, because Sarah had some leftover risotto from a previous night out with her parents.  Her risotto looked so good, that I decided to make some for everyone.

My Two Pretty Housemates

Our First Dinner Together on The Porch

It was truly a lovely night - made all the better because it followed what had been an unrelenting slew of rainy days.  The temperature was around 70 degrees, the garden looked beautiful, and the sun was still out.  It was so great to be eating dinner outside!

For supper, I pan seared the scallops with salt and pepper, finishing them with a little lemon juice.  I served them on top of some arugula, with some steamed broccoli.  The risotto that I made was simple enough; with green peas, diced vidalia onion, fresh parsley from my herb garden, and gruyere cheese.  I cooked it in chicken stock and vermouth.  When everything was done, I drizzled the whole plate with aged balsamic vinegar.  To drink we finished a bottle of Gruner Weltliner, an Austrian wine that Vanessa developed an affinity for last year in Vienna.

Seared Sea Scallops with Arugula and Gruyere Green Pea Risotto

Drizzled with Aged Balsamic Vinegar

with Steamed Broccoli

After dinner, we all hopped in my car and went out for ice cream!  We went to a place in Wilton that Sarah likes, and that Vanessa and I had never tried, called Scoops.  Pretty good ice cream, very cute place, really bad chunky hot fudge, but what can you do?  It was nice to have an evening outdoors.

Too Good to Eat Alone

In my last brief post, I was mid-preparation of a veal ragù, and had just received word that, due to a change of plans, I would be alone for dinner.  Originally, I thought I was just slow cooking a casual Sunday night meal.  But the thing about slow cooked, stewed nuggets of veal is that they make the house smell really wonderful, and it becomes rather apparent that the food is going to be pretty delicious.  This was not going to be the kind of meal that one should eat alone on a couch in front of the television.  The best food should always be enjoyed with company.

Fortunately for me, I have very supportive parents, and when I called and explained to them my predicament (I'm making a veal ragù, and have no one with whom to eat it!), they hopped in their car to make sure their son would not be alone. 

We started with a salad (not pictured), that my mom prepared when she arrived.  The dressing was one of my favorites of hers: poppy seed vinaigrette, consisting of oil, cider vinegar, Dijon mustard, honey, poppy seeds, salt and pepper.  The salad was arugula, carrots, red onion, cannellini beans, and tomato slivers.

Then we moved to the ragù, served over rigatoni.

Rigatoni with Veal Ragù

To make this sauce (I will go into detail, because mom requested a recipe), I began by browning the stewing veal pieces (just under a pound, I think).  Then I removed the meat and deglazed the pot with the remainder of a bottle of cabernet.  I added half of a chopped vidalia onion, four small sliced carrots, two small diced tomatoes, a lot of garlic chunks, some green olives (about eight, cut in half), marjoram, bay leaf, a dash of cayenne pepper, a dash of cinnamon, a couple teaspoons of tomato paste, a drop of red wine vinegar, and enough water to cover everything well.  This simmered for a few hours.

My parents told me that they would be coming earlier than I was planning on eating.  With Sarah and Vanessa frequently working late, we have gotten in the habit of rarely eating before 8:00.  Mom and Dad were coming over at 7:00, and this left less time to slow cook the meat.  Since I was using stewing chunks of veal, I needed them to cook for a while, until they had dissolved into shreds of meat, and the liquid had almost completely reduced to a thick sauce.  With the lack of time, I had to speed things up.  I removed the meat from the bowl after about two hours of cooking.  At this point it was very tender but not really falling apart without help.  I heated up a large skillet to flash boil the sauce.  For those of you who don't speak kitchen jargon, this means when the pan was very hot, I poured in the sauce, which was still very liquid.  The large surface area of the pan and the significant increase in temperature causes a lot of liquid to immediately evaporate, reducing the sauce, and concentrating the flavor into what remains.  I quickly reduced this liquid on high heat for a couple minutes, until a couple cups of liquid had become about half of a cup of flavorful paste.  I had put the meat back into some of the remaining sauce in the pot while this was going on, and broke up the meat chunks a bit with a spoon.  When the reduced sauce was thick enough, I combined the meat sauce in the pot with the goodies in the pan. At this point, I added about a half of a cup of cannellini beans, and corrected the seasonings with salt and pepper.  I stirred in a little bit of heavy cream, and continued to slow cook until my folks came and it was time to eat.  As I said, earlier, I put the ragù over some rigatoni pasta, and we had a fresh warm baguette and some Côtes du Rhône.

I tell you, it sure is nice to have such supportive parents.  It was really considerate of them to come join me for dinner.  Food is an experience best shared with friends and family.  The more the merrier at the dinner table. 

If you'd like to come over for a bite, let me know!  Friends are always welcome.

Who Will Eat My Veal Ragù?

This problem typifies my apartment:  I'm making a veal ragù, and no one is home to eat it!

Vanessa is away tonight, but Sarah told me that she would be home for dinner.  She just called to tell me that she had plans.  Alas... would anyone like some veal ragù?

The Garden

I have always loved nature, always trumpeted the belief that, "outside is better than inside."  Watching my parents toil each spring in their garden, I suspected that I too would someday tend my own garden.  I did not imagine myself reaping quite the same joy as they seemed to.  Still, with my love of the land, the forest, and the wilderness, it seemed inevitable that, when I did begin to garden, it would be something I would enjoy.

Such a garden came into fruition this May.  My small porch is now adorned with a row of window boxes, and my outside steps carry terracotta saucers and pots.  It will not surprise my readers that food provided the impetus for this garden, and everything that I planted, while pleasant to look at and sit beside, is edible.  More specifically, I should say that I planted an herb garden.  Along with your standard parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, I planted chives, cilantro, mint, chervil, Thai basil and seven common basils (with two more to come).

I also bought a small red table and set of chairs for the porch (they called it a bistro set).  Now that the weather is nice, I look forward to enjoying dinner outside in my quaint little herb garden.

This week saw the first use of the new herbs: pierogies with sauteed peppers and onions topped with fresh chervil.  This was the main event for Sarah, while Vanessa and I had it on the side with some bratwursts and grainy mustard.  Sorry no pictures were taken (my camera needed batteries).

The gals have some plans to plant some vegetables and flowering plants in front of the porch.  We really are dealing with a very small place, and do not want to crowd it, but I think it will come out nicely. 

Now, because I don't want to leave anybody hanging, here are some food pics from the last couple weeks, completely unrelated, but nonetheless delicious:

Penne in White Wine with Shrimp and Bell Peppers

Chicken Curry

Asparagus with Mustard Seed and Garam Masala

Rice and Garlic Naan

Wild Salmon Steak in a Lemon Dijon Sauce with Thyme

Rice Pilaf and Grilled Zucchini