White Truffle Oil

Yes, I know it's fake and not made from real truffles.  Yes, I know it's not the same as having actual truffle slices or shavings.  But . . . the flavor!  I used this with making a sauce for lobster, and to say it interacted well with the lobster meat would be an understatement.

Sometimes, when we cook, we have go-to ingredients.  For a while, mine was curry powder.  Curry is so flexible and so easy to use in small quantities.  See, when we season, we almost always overdo it.  That's the nature of the beast . . . we need to have more to compensate for our perception of inadequate flavor (especially those who cook a fair amount, largely because you get used to salt very quickly; the opposite is also true, btw--more on this later!).  But I think after this past week of experimenting, I feel that WTO will soon be it.  It's so versatile, and simply adds a richness and a depth, that when used appropriately, enhances the umami and meat flavors of a dish.

Stay tuned for some more recipes; in the past week, I've done a scallop dish and a lobster dish to a variety of degrees of success.  I have one lobster left, and I will probably tackle that beast in the next day or so.

So my apologies for the lack of posts, it was my break, and boy oh boy did I need it.

Snail Porridge ala Heston Blumenthal

I can take no credit for this dish, except where I deviate. The genius behind the combination is Heston Blumenthal, and it goes without saying that my changes would have never been possible had he not put the two together.

16 Snails (usually 1.5doz in a can)
2.25 C of Oats, sifted
6 oz unsalted sweet cream butter
1.5 C chopped parsley
4 Cloves Garlic
3 pearl onions, small dice
5 slices of prosciutto (basically, 1 package of the pre-sliced, or about 1/4 pound)
3 Leeks
2 C Chicken stock
Caviar
Olive Oil
Salt
Pepper

Serves 4.

To prepare the snails:
Clean the snails. There will be a sack of grey goo; squeeze it out, and rinse the solution that they were preserved in. Take one slice of proscuitto, mince it, and place it in a pot with about 2 oz (half a stick) of butter. Throw in the parsley, onions, and 3 garlic cloves. Cook for about 10 mins, then add the rest of the butter. Have it cook, simmering over medium heat, for about 30 mins. At the halfway point I added some fantastic Greek olive oil, a splash (~tblspoon), just to get a bit different flavor out of the snails.

To prepare the porridge:
Heat the chicken stock with a pinch of salt, pinch of pepper, and the last garlic clove, over medium high heat, until it starts to boil. Throw in the oats, and keep incorporating the oats into the stock. You won't have enough liquid, but don't worry. When the snails are down, drain the entire pot of snails right into the porridge. Pluck the snails out of the sifter or colander, and take all of that goodness in there and put it into the porridge as well. Always keep incorporating; if it's too thick, add either chicken stock or water slowly. I like it thick, almost like a risotto.

To prepare the leeks:
Take your leeks, clean them, cut off the end and the flowers/leaves, and throw them in a pot of boiling, salted water. Boil for about 5 minutes, then blanch them in cold water. In a pan with a tblspoon of olive oil, saute the leeks, but be weary of their structure. You don't want them to disintegrate, you want them to keep that nice, long look. When they are done sauteing, you want to cut them, long-wise, into thirds.

For the presentation:
I have two favorite presentations. With both, start with a decent spoonful of porridge in the center of the plate; I presume it's about 3/4 of a cup or so. Now take a few pieces of leek, and place it on top of the porridge, almost like a bed of vegetation. Alternatively, you can place one leek to the side, and one leek in the center of the porridge. Place 4 snails on top of the porridge; either directly on the leeks or around the centered leek (which ever presentation you prefer). Slice the remaining prosciutto in half, and roll up the halves to resemble a horn/cornucopia shape. You want to ease the smaller end into the snail shell; for the presentation with the bed of leek, simply add this to the top of the snails. Add another leek to the side of the porridge, and place a dab of caviar at the end. Sprinkle with parsley, or use bigger leaves and place dabs of caviar in the middle. For the second presentation, with the leek in the middle of the porridge, the ham can be placed to the side of the porridge, with it overlapping the edge, big open end of the cone facing up. For the caviar, place a spoonful on the side of the dish, and add a shell to make it appear like another snail.

While this dish is much simpler than Blumenthal's original, it incorporates the original spirit and contrasts that his has, while adding my own bits and different ideas. Enjoy.

Things to look forward to

1. Snail Porridge



2. Eggs Poached in Tea (Eggs Twining?).

Borrowing from another blog, BLT/IDM, I think the idea of tea and eggs can be expanded. How so? Well, it presents an interesting memory for me: sunday breakfast. I wasn't allowed to have coffee, so I'd drink heavily creamed and sugared tea (in a way to "mimic" coffee) with my eggs and bacons. While their recipe involves hard boiled eggs, I want to try something a bit different: poaching. How much of the flavor would be infused, if any? Further, instead of vinegar, what about a dash of lemon juice? We shall see . . .

3. Dinner Parties

There may or may not be 2 on the horizon. These are fun for a couple of obvious reasons. First, friends get together and have a good time over good food. And secondly, I get to cook, and depending on how much capital and time I have to work with, I get to cook very adventurously.

Stay tuned!

Some things I like . . .

Yesterday I told you what I didn't like about food and food culture. Now I will tell you about some things that I like:

• Molecular Gastronomy: it may have its detractors, but I find the entire movement to be one of the most fascinating trends--not only in cooking, but in culture as well. This is not necessarily because of its merits, but rather--regardless of whether you like MG or not (White, Marco Pierre)--it is because we are now discussing taste, flavors, smell, umami, sight, etc, etc. Molecular gastronomy has enabled us to look at food from an entirely different perspective, and this will only help cooking in the long run. While detractors are plenty (witness the current allegations of 'poisoning' against elBulli), most are just afraid of change. It happens man, it happens.
  
• Food Nostalgia: nostalgia arrives, usually, in the form of "homecooking." For example, I may think that my mother's tomato-crab sauce is the best possible tomato-crab sauce out there. Is it? Honestly, probably not. Yet we hold these types of assertions as undeniable truths--not because of logical relevance--but rather because our taste memories have imbued us with a static reference point (or status quo) of taste judgment. Some, like Heston Blumenthal, have wielded this gastronomical curiosity to great heights (like the entire In Search of Perfection program), but it is ripe for exploration in all levels of cooking, taste, and culture.
  
• The Michelin Guide: there is nothing more subjective than "liking" something. Further, there is nothing more preposterous than telling the world that your liking of that thing is the definitive judgment. That's why the Michelin Guide is so vital--not because it's accurate (which it probably is), but simple because it exists. It's a reference point, a place at which to start. Will everyone agree on who should get a star(s)? Doubtful. But the Guide at least comes with enough "gravitas" to allow the amateur to establish a foundation. Once we know who's at the top, it becomes a whole hell of a lot easier to know what path to take. The Michelin Guide shows us where to go--for better or for worse--and thus it is an invaluable resource. Even if Alain Ducasse doesn't step in his restaurants but once a decade.
  
• Accessibility: you want to buy foie gras, eh? Probably have you no idea where to go (or if it's been banned by the local government). Want a Douglas Fir puree? Same deal--where the hell do you get a Douglas Fir? And further, how in the world does one puree it? But once you get past instances like those, cooking and food culture is incredibly accessible. By its very nature, everyone at some point must cook or at least experience a meal. It is the only "art" that the entire world must partake in regardless of choice. If you don't partake, you die. With that being said, as a novice chef, there are books out there to guide you if you want to create a meal. You can go to schools, if you so please. Hell, even Wikipedia has some value. To borrow a well-worn, over-used, and overrated cliche: if the world truly is the young chef's oyster, then it's just a matter of shucking the damn thing. (I made that last bit up. sort of.)
  
• Art: yes, I referenced this in accessibility, but it is important enough to warrant further attention. Some people are adverse to cooking being called an art (regardless of whatever that high school cooking class was called). Some don't think that Eric Ripert paints his plate with seafood, or that Ferran Adria is every bit as mad in his logic (ham fat over cherries?) as Beethoven was in his composition. They simply refuse to see it. But riddle me this--what really separates cooking from "art?" Is it the use of naturally derived resources by which we change and transform into something likable? The last time I checked, marble came out of the earth, and unless I'm severely misinformed, so does asparagus. Could it be the use of mathematics that underlines the structure of most pieces? Because we need cups and ounces just as much as musicians need rhythm and painters need geometry. Where is the dividing line, exactly? The answer is simple--there isn't one.

I have more, but those are probably among the most prevalent. I usually like to leave Top 10 lists to Letterman, but there may be some in the future. Just sayin'.