Archive for June, 2009
picnic at the westernmost point, isle of skye, scotland.
June 30th, 2009
you don't know the land
as it rolls out in front of the car.
you look at the map
of this place you've never been
and you pick up a few nibbles
carrots, flatbread, 'crowdie' a scottish cheese, dark chocolate digestives (he says he can eat too many), blueberries, tangerines, juice. salt & sweet.
all you know
is that you want to eat outside
sit away from the wind
but still in the glorious sun.
you get to the neist point lighthouse. park.
all you can see are cliffs and blue blue sea
land stretches out before you: sharp and steep, rocky and open.
so you walk towards the edge
even though it doesn't look like much
your heart is open
wide open
and what looks like a few boulders
under tufts of grasses
is the place.
and very very carefully,
because the sheer drop is obvious,
you both settle in
completely hidden
embraced by rocks
and unfurl your little picnic
right there
at the edge of scotland.
Posted in
Smoked Phyllo in Action
June 30th, 2009
Our first application of smoked phyllo was on artichokes. We poached the artichokes sous vide at 85 degrees C for two hours, chilled them down and cut them into wedges. The slight moisture on the chokes provided enough sticktoittiveness to adhere the smoked phyllo. We paired the crusted artichokes with maple yogurt, baby fennel and maple-maldon. The results were delicious, the elements simple, the extrapolations are endless.
What is?
June 29th, 2009
There is an assumption that dashi must be made from kombu and bonito. Research reveals that shiitake dashi is not uncommon and is part of the Japanese cooking arsenal. In looking at the traditional Italian gnudi we wondered about the way they are cooked. Gnudi, the delicate filling of a ravioli without the pasta, can be a chef’s Achilles heel. Getting gnudi right, delicate, full flavored, and with enough structure to hold their shape is difficult. Finally, it dawned on us, why not use a form or a support to shape gnudi during the traumatic cooking process.? The first question led to the second, why should we boil delicate gnudi in water if there was a way to keep the flavor in the dumpling itself. So, as with all questions, we tried something different. We wrapped our swiss chard-ricotta gnudi in plastic wrap and poached them to hold the shape and keep all the flavor in the dumplings. We chilled the gnudi once they were cooked and then gently warmed them to serve the dish. We paired our newly shaped gnudi with sun dried tomato and porcini dashi. The final dish added roasted king trumpet mushrooms and small leaves of swiss chard to create a satisfying and elegant vegetarian dish.
Leeks Vinaigrette
June 28th, 2009
The hidden gem in this dish is the quinoa butter which we just happened upon. We have a fair number of ideas which we will explore. Its role as a the base for leeks vinaigrette, holding nasturtium flowers in place ranks up there in both taste and aesthetic. A batter and soup are in the works as are streusel and yes, cookies.
The dish is composed of leeks vinaigrette with tart cherries, quinoa, nasturtim and dijonaise.
summer fruit desserts, in London.
June 27th, 2009
I'm back working in a restaurant after what feels like many years. Moving thousands of miles can do that– separate you from what you know, and remove the ground from beneath your feet. What was a recent experience can feel far away in lieu of disorientation.
For the last 11 years, the ground beneath my chef feet has been seasonal, local, mostly organic fruit; and my moniker, 'fruit-inspired pastry chef,' has been my guiding force. I have picked fruit, worked for farmers at favorite farmer's markets and eaten my weight in citrus and stone fruit many times over. I said for years anad years that I stayed in California for its gratuitous fruit array.
But here in London, fruit is an afterthought. Besides apples and pears in autumn, and gooseberries, elderflowers and strawberries in summer, which few do better than Britain, fruit comes from very far away and few people know when to buy it at its peak. Most fruit and vegetables are here year round, but flown in from various countries and continents catchers-catch can style, making fruit buying confusing at best.
And because few fruits are grown in British soil, they arrive with a high price tag. Using fruit as a primary focus for a plated dessert, here in London, is a bad idea, cost-wise. But also flavour-wise, because seasonal fruit in South Africa or Spain, or even a country as close as France, is probably not picked and shipped as ripe as one would hope.
All this said, I have found trusted places to buy UK seasonal fruit. And the restaurant I work for is produce-centric and we use an amazing produce purveyor, so I feel infinitely grateful/lucky to have well-chosen product close by.
That said, what desserts are on the horizon?
I'm thinking about tahini, white chocolate, bananas, tamarind, black sesame seeds, grapefruit; Thai coconut soup sorbet; manouri, strawberries & pink peppercorns; gooseberries, mint, rosemary, elderflowers & corn; mango inspired gazpacho; buckwheat & chocolate; brown butter, raw sugar, frangipane & nectarines; young coconut, black rice, caramel. For our retail shop I'm contemplating sandwich cookies, chocolate bouchons, Lamingtons, real graham crackers, verbena profiteroles, tart lemon drizzle cakes, peanut financiers, and rich bread & butter puddings.
Moving to a new place means thinking different. Cooking and baking professionally for a new public means learning about their collective palates and historical connections to food, fruit, baked goods, salt. I can still bring me to the table, but I have to compromise too. I can't move forward: careerwise, dessertwise, bakingwise; if I do not take into consideration new soil, new people, new fruit, new seasons, new pace, new price-point, new retail environment, new attitudes about communication/confrontation, new communication styles, new everything, really.
I look forward to changing styles a bit. While I will always be a fruit-inspired pastry chef, I look forward to thinking differently, in a new way, to meet my new surroundings and continue to grow. One can get too comfortable/ too ghetto-ized/ too smug in one's niche/ geographical area/ style. Stuck.
If nothing else, it should be interesting.
Smoked Phyllo
June 27th, 2009
Frito Misto
June 26th, 2009
Corn Bread and Collard Greens
June 25th, 2009
Grilled Beer Can Chicken
June 24th, 2009
We were in WIlliams and Sonoma shopping for my sister in law’s bridal showers. I was working the registry and Alex was wandering with Amaya. I conferred with the sales person, made my purchases (with a little input from the hubby) and arranged for giftwrapping. When I met up with my husband he was in the outdoor cooking section. “What do you think of that? It’s a beer can chicken cooker for the grill.” Actually they market it as a vertical chicken roaster. Needless to say I was equally enthusiastic about the purchase since we brought it home. Roasting chickens in the summertime is pure martyrdom and doing them on the grill seemed like a no-brainer. We filled the the center section with leftover chardonnay, Planeta 2005, and a few pieces of cut lemon. The chicken was seasoned with salt and cayenne. The results were amazing. A moist juicy chicken with a beautiful au jus. Clearly this is one piece of grilling equipment that will not go to waste. As for the jalapeno roaster, only time will tell.
Watermelon Ribbons
June 23rd, 2009
The internet is a tool. It allows information to move quickly, for ideas to evolve, and for techniques to be shared. I can remember hearing, well reading, about an ingenious technique of Andoni Luis Aduriz of restaurant Mugaritz. He was freezing and thawing watermelon in order to dehydrate it while keeping the flesh moist. The idea bounced around our minds for some time and we never thought to try it, until we did. Andoni’s execution created a carpaccio which looked like meat, had a unique texture and was playful in that it was nothing like meat save for it’s appearance.
We were revisting a watermelon salad and figured why not try freezing and thawing the watermelon. We cut relatively thick slices of watermelon, seasoned them with salt and cayenne, vacuum sealed to compress the fruit, and then froze and thawed the slabs of fruit. The first freezing and thawing produced a ton of syneresis. The cell walls of the watermelon were ruptured and the water leaked out in generous amounts. We repeated the process several more times and the fruit soon took on the appearance of sliced slabs of tuna. We had cut the watermelon too thick for carpaccio and stumbled into an exciting variation based on the process. We sliced the slabs into strips and the watermelon now looked like the tuna ribbons served at Jean Georges. If we were going to borrow, we might as well tap more than one source. The technique of one, the aesthetic of another, together they allowed for something we find original. We dressed the watermelon ribbons with celery leaves, olive oil and grapefruit juice. We complement the toothsome ribbons with watermelon poached shallots, a celery sheet, and honey infused grapefruit. Inspirations come from everywhere and meld to form something new in our kitchen.
