I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
For special occasions, I like to sends friends off from our house with a little something, a goodie bag if you will. Sometimes it’s just a few cookies I baked the day before, or during the holidays, it might be homemade candy. For the dinner party I’ve described all week, I wanted to send our friends off with a little something particularly American, and I remembered this pairing from The French Laundry Cookbook. Fruit jellies served with peanut butter truffles is a charming twist on a classic flavor combination.
This is the first time I am able to say that I prepared something from The French Laundry Cookbook, and it’s kind of exciting to get to say that. Opening that book in the kitchen and actually following the recipes felt a little like cooking from kitchen scripture. I kept the book a good distance from the mess as if it were placed on a pedestal, and I wondered if I should have bowed before measuring out the first ingredient. All jokes aside, this is a really excellent book, and I learned a great deal from reading it alone. To begin this treat, I set about making the jellies. The two suggested flavors are yuzu and concord grape. I searched high and low and did not find yuzu juice in this town of mine, and by comparison concord grape just seemed a bit pedestrian. I decided to make just one flavor, and opted to use acai juice. Next, the suggested apple pectin was as elusive as the yuzu juice, so I used an equal measure of citrus pectin and it seemed to work fine. Keller does note that apple pectin is the key to the jellies delicate texture, so I’ll try harder to procure it next time. For the truffles, I used El Rey milk chocolate and organic, freshly ground peanut butter. Once the truffles are formed, they are then dipped not once, but twice in melted chocolate which can be either milk or bittersweet. I found a 53% cacao El Rey which is somewhere in between and used that.
So for jellies, a combination of juice, sugar, and corn syrup was simmered and skimmed. Pectin was combined with more sugar and dissolved with some of the simmering liquid. All was returned to a pot to simmer a bit longer, and then it was poured into a pan and left to set. The truffle filling was made by blending peanut butter, sugar, and salt in a food processor. Melted milk chocolate was added and then some softened butter, and they were blended into the mixture. This was then refrigerated until firm. I formed the truffles by using a melon baller, and then they were chilled. More chocolate was melted, and the truffles were dipped once, allowed to set, and then dipped a second time. For presentation, the truffles were dusted with cocoa powder.
For me, the truffles were like the best Reese’s peanut butter cups ever made. The jellies were delicious, albeit sticky due to our humidity, and the combination of the two was fun and cute and a good food pun. The truffles were far and away the better half of the duo, but I will definitely make this again with both parts.
The dessert of the meal I’ve been describing this week was individual chilled lemon souffles, and this comes from a delightful, little book. Eggs by Michel Roux is smaller in size than other books, but in it you’ll find perfected techniques for cooking eggs and a wealth of ideas for egg dishes. Each section is devoted to a way of cooking eggs. The steps involved in the basic preparation are clearly described with instructions and photos, and then several variations on dishes using that preparation are presented. I’m looking forward to trying crunchy fried eggs which is a method of poaching in hot oil. The variations include crunchy fried eggs on darphin potatoes with spinach and crunchy fried eggs on dandelion salad. And, there’s so much more. Classic sauces like hollandaise, mornay, and sabayon are described. There are crepes both savory and sweet, quiches, omelets including rolled Thai varieties, custards, baked eggs, and hard-cooked eggs stuffed with mussels. I really like this book.
While so many dishes jumped out at me as I read this book, the chilled lemon souffle was the first thing I made because it worked well with my plans for the party. This is not a cooked souffle. The ingredients are simply folded together, transferred to serving dishes, and chilled. I wanted to use the freshest eggs I could find, so I headed straight to the farmers’ market. Milagro farms had some beauties last weekend, and I talked with the farmer about the chickens that laid them. They have several varieties of chickens which are allowed to roam free, have a moveable coop so their domain can be moved about the farm, and they’re fed the organic vegetables grown at the farm. The dozen eggs I bought included some brown, some cream-colored, and some pale blue eggs. They were perfectly fresh and delicious. For the souffles, six eggs were separated. The yolks were whisked with sugar and lemon zest. Gelatin sheets were softened in water, the water was squeezed from them, and then they were dissolved in warm lemon juice. That lemon juice was then whisked into the egg yolk mixture. Cream was whipped to a ribbon consistency and folded into the yolk mixture. Egg whites were whisked to soft peaks with some sugar, and then they were folded into the main mixture.
In the book, this is presented as one large souffle with a ring of lemon slices around the top and sliced almonds in the center. I decided to serve it in individual portions instead. So, I used six ramekins and wrapped each of them with parchment paper to support the souffle as it was spooned into each cup and above each rim. The ramekins were chilled for about five hours. Thinly sliced lemon was gently cooked in sugar syrup for a couple of minutes and allowed to cool. I served each souffle with a few lemon slices and a sprinkling of sliced almonds. I was pretty sure this was going to be an enjoyable dessert, but I was surprised by Kurt’s reaction. I had imagined he would tolerate the lemon dessert and find it ok, but he was actually just as thrilled with it as I was. The texture was like clouds as it was set just enough to hold its shape, and the flavor was lovely and lemony without being too assertive. It wasn’t too rich or too filling, and it was a nice way to end the meal.
On Monday, I started the story of last weekend’s dinner party. The chilled soup course was followed by roasted sockeye salmon with nasturtium jalapeño aioli and a salad of beets, beet greens, and carrots with a horseradish-orange vinaigrette. Also served with the salmon was this polenta with sauteed mushrooms. This dish was inspired by one seen in the December 2007 issue of Bon Appetit. As seen in the magazine, it was served in small squares with the mushroom ragout placed on top of each piece of polenta. Since seeing this over a year ago, I kept it in mind for a future party because it could be largely prepared in advance and would be easy to serve in pre-made portions. I made a few changes to the recipe in hopes of making the dish a bit lighter and more spring-like.
The original mushroom ragout included creme fraiche and grated Comte cheese. I opted to make the mushrooms dairy-free and flavor them with green garlic, shallots, and truffle salt instead. I used local blue oyster and shitake mushrooms. One day early, I made the polenta with all milk for the liquid and a half cup of grated parmigiano reggiano stirred in at the end of the cooking time, and I let it set up overnight in the refrigerator. The day of the party, I cut the polenta squares and cooked them in butter and olive oil in a non-stick skillet for a few minutes on each side. Once crispy on top and bottom, they were transferred to paper towels to drain. Then, they were kept warm in the oven until needed. When the salmon was ready to be served, I placed some mushroom mixture on top of each polenta square and sprinkled the truffle salt on top.
Crispy surfaces on the polenta squares gave way to tender middles full of parmigiano reggiano flavor. That richness carried the mushrooms nicely, and the truffle salt was a subtle, additional boost to the topping. I’m sure the creamier version with cheese in the mushroom ragout would also be delicious, but this spring version worked well for our meal.
This past weekend, we had the opportunity to entertain some friends one more time before they leave Austin to embark on new adventures. My goal for this dinner party was to piece together a menu that hinted at local flavors and highlighted local ingredients. Also, I wanted to exploit our friends’ willingness to act as tasting guinea pigs once more. I kid, but they have been quite kind and patient about tasting my experiments over the years. Not every item on the menu was a first-time test. The dinner began with Feisty Jamaican Splash cocktails and Tuna Tostadas. Up next, I served a chilled crema de guacamole soup from Super Natural Cooking. SNC is the beautifully designed book by Heidi Swanson of 101 Cookbooks. The book contains a wealth of information about many whole and natural ingredients and how to use them in various ways. It’s organized by concept such as Know Your Superfoods and Explore a Wide Range of Grains. This recipe is from the Cook by Color chapter. It’s described as a perfect make-ahead soup, and that made it ideal for our dinner party.
There are two main parts to the soup, and the first involves cooking chopped tomatillos, serrano chiles, white onion, and garlic in vegetable stock. Once the tomatillos became tender, the mixture was blended until smooth and passed through a strainer. When cool, lime juice was added, and this soup base was chilled for a couple of hours. The second part of the soup was avocado blended with cilantro, salt, and lime juice. The two parts were then blended together. Topopos were made by cutting thin strips of corn tortillas and frying them for a few minutes per side. As they drained on paper towels, they were seasoned with salt and lime juice. To serve, I spooned the soup into espresso cups. The garnishes included the topopos, a little swirl of crema or thinned sour cream, and a tiny dollop of fresh tomato salsa.
The soup was thick, smooth, and deliciously fresh tasting. The tomatillos and lime juice acted together to brighten the flavor. The serranos gave it just enough of a kick, and the garnishes brought together all the elements I so love in Mexican cuisine. I wondered if the nice green color would dull as the soup chilled, but it did not. It was as pretty when it was served as it was a few hours before when it was blended. It was a great way to start this meal, and I’m looking forward to trying many more things from this book.
This aioli was the result of a little experiment I conducted earlier this week. I was testing both my ability to make aioli and also the flavor combination. Peter over at cookblog mentioned a nasturtium pesto awhile back, and that led me down the path to nasturtium aioli. I was thinking the peppery leaves would flavor an aioli nicely. To point up the pepperiness and cut the richness with some acidity at the same time, I decided to use some slices of pickled jalapeno as well. That idea was blatantly stolen from Susan Spicer after having tried her jalapeño dressing. My concoction was just what I was hoping for in that it was thick and creamy with peppery, herbal notes and just a hint of spice.
One egg yolk was whisked with garlic as the olive oil was barely dribbled in at first. Little by little, the remaining olive oil was incorporated, and then the nasturtium leaves and jalapeno were added. I tasted and added a pinch of salt. We enjoyed the experimental aioli on simply boiled potatoes. After this successful test run, I’m hoping I can recreate it and that it will pair well with roasted salmon.
Nasturtium Jalapeño Aioli: 1 egg yolk 1/2 c olive oil 1 clove garlic, minced 3 T finely chopped nasturtium leaves 3 slices of pickled jalapeno, finely minced Salt to taste
Baked brie makes a perfectly rich and gooey snack or first course. I received a double-cream brie from Ile de France and immediately knew I wanted to bake it to a state of molten goodness. I found this recipe on Epicurious, but I omitted the garlic to keep the flavors a little simpler.
Softened butter was combined with pimenton de la vera, and I really could eat that on everything. Here, it was spread on small pieces of bread and toasted for about 10 minutes in the oven. Meanwhile, the brie was taken out of its wooden container, the covering was removed, and it was returned to the wooden container. It went into the oven for 20 minutes. Then, the top rind was cut away to allow for dipping. The hint of smokiness in the pimenton was a nice accent, but I used a small enough amount to let the brie flavor take the lead. Melty, drippy, beautiful brie was made so easy to scoop onto the bread delivery system. This may be the simplest yet most satisfying cheese recipe there is.
I read Sweets: Soul Food Desserts and Memories last year, made one of the cakes in the book, and mentally bookmarked several other pages. One of those was the page with the strawberry jam cake. All of the desserts from this book are charming, old-fashioned sweets made by members of the author's extended family. When I get to choose dessert, chances are it will be berry-flavored or lemon or caramel, and this time strawberry was the winner. This is actually a spice cake with cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and ginger. It has pecans and buttermilk and of course strawberry jam. In the book, it was presented as a three layer cake which was to have more strawberry jam spread between the layers. I went in a slightly different direction with it and added the frosting from a different strawberry layer cake on page 39.
The jam cake recipe makes a lot of batter with five eggs and four cups of flour, and I chose to fill two eight inch round cake pans and bake the remaining batter in a small baking dish. I made a small layer cake with the rounds and put the extra flat cake in the freezer. I’m thinking that will make a useful platform for strawberries and whipped cream at a later date. For my layer cake, I followed the other recipe’s instructions for the strawberry frosting. Frozen strawberries were thawed and their juice was strained, and then the berries were combined with butter and confectioner’s sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer. It was mixed until smooth, and I learned what to do differently next time. When I make this again, I’ll mix the butter and confectioner’s sugar first and then add the strawberries once that is already smooth. That way, I’ll be able to decide how chunky or not to leave the strawberries in the frosting. By mixing them all together, the strawberries were made smooth along with the butter. The flavor was fantastic, and the berries naturally made the frosting pink, but I thought a little texture from berry chunks might have been nice.
When I first frosted the cake, I placed it in the refrigerator to set. We enjoyed the cake that first day in its chilled state, but when I left it covered on the counter overnight, it was even better at room temperature the next day. The flavor of the spices and pecans was more pronounced, and the cake had become even more tender than the day before. In fact, it was better still the day after that. This cake would be delicious with just a dusting of confectioner’s sugar instead of being frosted, but the frosting added an extra punch of fruit and decadence.
For special occasions, I like to sends friends off from our house with a little something, a goodie bag if you will. Sometimes it’s just a few cookies I baked the day before, or during the holidays, it might be homemade candy. For the dinner party I’ve described all week, I wanted to send our friends off with a little something particularly American, and I remembered this pairing from The French Laundry Cookbook
. Fruit jellies served with peanut butter truffles is a charming twist on a classic flavor combination.
For me, the truffles were like the best Reese’s peanut butter cups ever made. The jellies were delicious, albeit sticky due to our humidity, and the combination of the two was fun and cute and a good food pun. The truffles were far and away the better half of the duo, but I will definitely make this again with both parts.
In the book, this is presented as one large souffle with a ring of lemon slices around the top and sliced almonds in the center. I decided to serve it in individual portions instead. So, I used six ramekins and wrapped each of them with parchment paper to support the souffle as it was spooned into each cup and above each rim. The ramekins were chilled for about five hours. Thinly sliced lemon was gently cooked in sugar syrup for a couple of minutes and allowed to cool. I served each souffle with a few lemon slices and a sprinkling of sliced almonds. I was pretty sure this was going to be an enjoyable dessert, but I was surprised by Kurt’s reaction. I had imagined he would tolerate the lemon dessert and find it ok, but he was actually just as thrilled with it as I was. The texture was like clouds as it was set just enough to hold its shape, and the flavor was lovely and lemony without being too assertive. It wasn’t too rich or too filling, and it was a nice way to end the meal.
Crispy surfaces on the polenta squares gave way to tender middles full of parmigiano reggiano flavor. That richness carried the mushrooms nicely, and the truffle salt was a subtle, additional boost to the topping. I’m sure the creamier version with cheese in the mushroom ragout would also be delicious, but this spring version worked well for our meal.
The soup was thick, smooth, and deliciously fresh tasting. The tomatillos and lime juice acted together to brighten the flavor. The serranos gave it just enough of a kick, and the garnishes brought together all the elements I so love in Mexican cuisine. I wondered if the nice green color would dull as the soup chilled, but it did not. It was as pretty when it was served as it was a few hours before when it was blended. It was a great way to start this meal, and I’m looking forward to trying many more things from this book.
Nasturtium Jalapeño Aioli:
The jam cake recipe makes a lot of batter with five eggs and four cups of flour, and I chose to fill two eight inch round cake pans and bake the remaining batter in a small baking dish. I made a small layer cake with the rounds and put the extra flat cake in the freezer. I’m thinking that will make a useful platform for strawberries and whipped cream at a later date. For my layer cake, I followed the other recipe’s instructions for the strawberry frosting. Frozen strawberries were thawed and their juice was strained, and then the berries were combined with butter and confectioner’s sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer. It was mixed until smooth, and I learned what to do differently next time. When I make this again, I’ll mix the butter and confectioner’s sugar first and then add the strawberries once that is already smooth. That way, I’ll be able to decide how chunky or not to leave the strawberries in the frosting. By mixing them all together, the strawberries were made smooth along with the butter. The flavor was fantastic, and the berries naturally made the frosting pink, but I thought a little texture from berry chunks might have been nice.
When I first frosted the cake, I placed it in the refrigerator to set. We enjoyed the cake that first day in its chilled state, but when I left it covered on the counter overnight, it was even better at room temperature the next day. The flavor of the spices and pecans was more pronounced, and the cake had become even more tender than the day before. In fact, it was better still the day after that. This cake would be delicious with just a dusting of confectioner’s sugar instead of being frosted, but the frosting added an extra punch of fruit and decadence.