Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Washington D.C.

Washington, DC, April 8 2009—

LINDSEY TOOK IT in mind to fly out here for a week of mostly sightseeing, and why not: It's cherry-blossom time. Springtime, except that it's colder than, well, your cliché's as good as mine.
The flight was bare-bones except for the first-rate in-flight entertainment, on Virgin America; made interesting only once, when about halfway across Kansas a somewhat blowzy-looking young woman asked the flight attendant how much longer to landing, and, when told it would be another two and a half hours, checked into one of the restrooms and lit up a cigarette.
Since we were sitting in the last row, we overheard a bit of the action, beginning with the attendant knocking on the door and telling the woman to put it out. Twice she asked where the cigarette was, and apparently got two different answers. She ordered the woman out, to no avail. Finally the attendant opened the door and ordered the woman back to her seat. Apparently the cigarette butt was found; we didn't have to make an unscheduled landing. Nor, far as I know, was the woman ever put in handcuffs, though they were mentioned.

***

At the bus stop, next morning, two women were conversing quietly. I asked, as much to make conversation as for the information, if the bus we were waiting for would indeed take us to the Metro station. The seated woman assured me it would. Vous êtes française, I asked. Non, mais je parle français, she answered, je suis égyptienne, tous les égyptiens parle très bien beaucoup des langages. Tous les égyptiens, de toutes classes, I asked, Ah oui mussieu, she said, Je vous assure.

***

The Metro runs fast, frequent, and deep. I walked up ninety-seven steps at the Bethesda Metro station, and eighty-eight steps back at our Wardman Woodley Park station, and in both cases I was walking up an escalator that was moving uphill itself, otherwise Sisyphus only knows how many steps I'd have climbed. That and the bracing cold and the long urban walks should keep me in shape.

***

Dinner last night, as noted yesterday at Eating Every Day, at Obelisk, a favorite restaurant of mine. I think it was fifteen or twenty years ago I first ate there, when in town on an NEA panel. I ate there twice that trip, and at least once each of the remaining two years of the panel. It's an Italian restaurant with, in those days, a three-course format with a choice from two alternative appetizers, main courses, and desserts. The price is now double — $70 — and an antipasto and a cheese course added; we were also presented with three alternatives for each course (except antipasto and cheese). An interesting wine list (all Italian) and good grappas and other liquore round out the offerings. You can converse in the comfortably furnished dining room, and the service is attentive and friendly without the least intrusion.

I used to say I had five favorite restaurants. Three of them are now history, but Obelisk and Chez Panisse remain.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Eating every one of those days

A TENTATIVE LISTING of the meals (chiefly dinners) eaten during our Long Walk, June 20-July 28, and the week or so following while on vacation in Nice and the Netherlands; and then, to bring us up to date, the last few days here at home:
June 19 Amsterdam dinner at Marius: vitello tonnato, duck breast with vegetables, fruit and ice cream
June 20 Creusaz hotel l’Alpage: trout, pommes frites, salad
21 Dent d'Oche refuge: soup, grey beef, chocolate pudding
22 Chalet de Bise restaurant: soup, biot (Savoie sausage) and polenta
23 La Chapelle d'Abondance hotel: guinea fowl
24 La Chapelle d'Abondance tartaflette
25 Bassachaux refuge: chicken soup, tartaflette, tarte à myrtilles
26 Mines d'Or gite: gazpacho, poulet Basquaise
27 Samoëns restaurant: tartaflette
28 Samoëns restaurant: salad, lamb, crème brulée
29 Chalet d'Anterne refuge: nettle soup, pork loin, mashed potatoes
30 Chamonix restaurant: salade Niçoise
July 1 Chamonix restaurant: grilled lamb chops, peppers, tomato
2 les Contamines restaurant: bad unmemorable “Italian” food
3 Croix de Bonhomme refuge: soup, polenta Bolognese
4 la Balme refuge: spare ribs Coca-cola
5 Landry hotel: paté, boeuf Bourgignon
6 Col du Palet refuge: soup, biot and polenta
7 Val d'Isère restaurant: biot and polenta
8 Bonneval gite: stuffed zucchini, steak
9 Lanlesbourg hotel: Savoyard dalad, blancs de volaille
10 Bramans hotel: rabbit
11 Modane hotel: pork loin, crudités
12 Susa, Bardonecchia lunch: Canitna del Ponte, Susa: what? restaurant, Bardonecchia: gnocchi
13 Thabor refuge: lasagne
14 Plampinet gite: jambon melon, tartiflette
15 Briançon hotel: Caprese, boeuf brochette, salad
16 Villar-San. Pancrace gite crudités, chicken, rice, cheeses
17 La Chalp refuge: "Niçoise" salad, chicken, potatoes Dauphinois
18 Ceillac refuge: soup, poulet Basquaise, cheese, salad, strudel
19 Fouillouse refjuge: soup, chicken, mixed vegetables, salad, linzertart
20 Larche hotel: quiche, salad, chicken tagine, cheese, fruit
21 St. Dalmas hotel: Maigret de canard, cote de porc
22 Roya refuge: potato-pea soup, boeuf daube with pasta
23 Vacherie de Roure thick vegetable soup, ham with pineapple, risotto with eggplant, cheese, flan
24 St. Dalmas en Valbore restaurant:cheese feuilleté, colin, white rice with pistou, salad
25 Utelle apartment-residence: rissoles, salmon steak, crème caramel
26 Nice restaurant: Salade Niçoise
27 la Gaude party: grilled steak, salad, cheese. Dinner, restaurant: fish soup
28 Nice restaurant: lunch: socca. Dinner, restaurant: fish soup, salad
29 Nice: lunch, Menton, what? dinner, Nice restaurant: assiette Niçoise, Salade Niçoise, socca.
30 Nice lunch, San Remo: sandwiches. Dinner chez McKee: chicken curry.
31 lunch, l"Orée du Port: fish soup, moules. Dinner, Rendezvous des Amis, Nice: artichoke terrine, chicken fricasee in pastis with rouille, prune clafoutis.
Aug. 1 lunch, Restaurant As, Amsterdam: Steak tartare; dinner, restaurant in Apeldoorn: broth, freshwater fish, complex dessert.
2 lunch Hoge Veluwe: pannekoek. Dinner chez Elfring, Apeldoorn: what?
3 dinner chez Elfring, Voorburg: lasagne
4 dinner, Piccola Italia, Middelburg: insalata, spaghetti carbonara
5 dinner, hotel 't Schouwse Hof, Aalsmeer: beef bouillon, slibtong, salad, vegetables, potatoes, ice cream and berries
6 dinner in airplane: chicken with rice
7 dinner at home: Salade Niçoise
8 dinner at home: Salade Niçoise
9 wedding dinner: pulled pork, rice, beans
10 lunch at home: cheese and salad
11 dinner at home: sole, lima beans, salad
12 dinner at home: grilled steak, lamb chops, salad
13: lunch: half a pan bagnat. Dinner, Café Chez Panisse: figs with mint and arugula in crème fraîche, duck confit with figs.
14: lunch, Willi’s Wine Bar, Santa Rosa: roast marrow bones.
Oh: and in this period I lost about ten pounds!

Friday, February 15, 2008

Self-promotion

duivelsbos.JPG
Woods near Beek, Netherlands, from The Lingepad


STILL PREOCCUPIED WITH THE FLU and not ready to blog seriously, but I do want to mention two ongoing bits of business:

Walking in The Neth...
By Charles Shere

1) a new book, The Lingepad: Walking in The Netherlands, April 2007. Square format paperbound, 7x7 inches (18x18 cm), 176 pages, published February 10, 2008. Almost no text (surprise!), this is a sequence of photographs taken during our 100-mile walk across the center of The Netherlands last April.

2) my food blog Eating Every Day continues through thick and thin, sugar and salt, sickness and health...

Monday, December 10, 2007

Pork Chops notre façon

L. THINKS THE RECIPE came originally from Elizabeth David, perhaps The Mediterranean Cookbook. I don't know: we've made this for so many years it's second nature.

What you do is, you dry the chops; you drizzle them with a little olive oil, you sprinkle them with lemon juice, you scatter a good dusting of ground-up whole fennel seeds and good sea-salt; you lay on a few slices of garlic.

Then what I do is I put each in turn atop the other, then back on the broiler pan: this distributes the seasoning to the bottom of the chop. Then adjust the visible side if necessary.

Broil one side until done; turn; readjust exposed surfaces with etcetera, finish broiling.

You can also do this on the stove in a hot black iron frying pan; in fact, I prefer that method.
I wish you could see these porkchops: alas, Blogger is temporarily not receiving photos... in the meantime, I've set up a provisional blog on my mac.com site, with photos.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Lindsey fixes dinner

SO, THEN, NOTHING COMPLICATED:

A can of sardines; a nice red onion quartered and sliced thin, a little olive oil on the bread, then the fish and onion.

A few slices of green tomato—will the summer never end? (Though it threatens to freeze tonight...)

Afterward, a few leaves of lettuce from a nearby garden, sprinkled with scallions sliced thin, oil, salt from the Ile de Ré, and some vinegar

a bottle of rosé

Thanksgiving can wait.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Cassoulet

Originally published, in a slightly different form, in The Open Hand Celebration Cookbook (New York: Pocket Books, 1991)

FOR NEARLY FIFTEEN YEARS we made a cassoulet once a year or so to with the same group of cassoulet aficionados each time, usually in February or so. It was a ritual for us , starting with making the goose stock from the holiday goose and continuing until ground hog day or later with the week before being an intense time of making goose or duck confit, sometimes making the sausages, making more stock, soaking beans, and gathering all the bits and pieces that are needed. We always assembled and baked the cassoulets the day before we served them and reheated them the day of our dinner because they tasted better the second day.

For the dinner itself we usually started with Champagne and oysters on the half shell, then the cassoulet with good bread, a few pickled sour cherries, and a bottle or two of Bandol. A green salad comes afterward and we usually have some perfect tangerines for dessert.

Like Bouillabaisse, Cassoulet is one of those dishes that you can make year after year, always trying to find the perfect version. We have consulted many sources. We ended up always making something a little different and very good, but always leaving room for even greater perfection next time. And it's always fun for everyone involved.

This is how we did it:

SEVERAL DAYS BEFORE SERVING

Make your goose stock: we use the carcass of the holiday goose, and perhaps another goose or two whose breast, legs and wings have gone into a confit for the cassoulet. Other poultry can be used as well, but goose is best. Make the stock in the usual way, with onion, bay leaf, thyme and pepper but no salt, and use good water. Strained and mostly degreased, the stock can be frozen, or be held in the refrigerator for several weeks, protected by the layer of goose-fat that will rise to the top of the container. For this recipe you will need about eight quarts of stock.

THREE DAYS BEFORE SERVING

1: Season with salt and pepper and refrigerate overnight in a covered dish:
3 lb. pork loin, cubed
4 pigs feet, split
3 lb. pork skin, rolled and tied

TWO DAYS BEFORE SERVING

2: Soak in water to cover:
8 lb. Small White or Great Northern beans

3: Make a ragout of the pork listed under (1) above and the following:
1 lb. sweet or blanched pork belly, or pancetta, diced (not salt pork unless well blanched)
1 chopped onion
12 oz. ham, diced
2 T. tomato purée
1 qt. goose stock
half a glass of white wine
bouquet garni (parsley, thyme, bay leaf and celery, tied in a bundle)
6 cloves
2 heads garlic
Begin by browning the pork in 2 or 3 T goose fat. Add the onion and ham and cook them until soft; then add the tomato; then the remaining ingredients. Other poultry stock can be used in place of (or to extend) goose stock. One fine year we had dozens of pigeon heads and feet for the stock.

4: Salt the remaining stock to taste, and bring it to the simmer on top of the stove. Drain the beans; then cover with the stock and simmer until done.
We always simmer them in stock, usually goose (see above). Reserve any unused stock to moisten the cassoulets as they bake (see steps 11 and 12 below).

5: Cook (in simmering water) for half an hour, then add to the ragout:
2-1/2 lb. sausage (andouillettes, saucissons de campagne, garlic sausage — take your choice. Homemade sausage will be best.)

6: Let the ragout simmer for quite a while, until the meat is tender and the flavors are well combined; then refrigerate, covered, overnight.

ONE DAY BEFORE SERVING

7: Bring to room temperature:
20 pieces confit.
We use one goose and one duck, making ten pieces each (wings, legs, thighs, and four breast quarters).

8: Purée, then add to the ragout which you have brought back to a simmer:
8 oz. uncooked pork fat
12 cloves uncooked garlic
Use a blender or food processor for this step.

9: Assemble the cassoulets in deep casseroles in the following order:
pork skin (removed from ragout, flattened, and cut to fit bottom of pots; fat side down)
beans
pigs feet (the meat only)
pork loin
sausages (cut in pieces)
confit
beans
any remaining meat
beans

10: Last, boil briefly until stiff, then broil on one side only, then add, uncooked side up, to top of casseroles:
4-1/2 lb. sausage (Toulouse-style by preference)

11: Fill the casseroles almost to the top with stock, but leave a layer of beans at the very top; cover them with a sprinkling of bread crumbs. The casserole should be just covered with them. The finished texture is improved by dribbling a bit of warm goose fat on them.

12: Bake the cassoulets, uncovered, in a slow oven, for two hours or so, until flavors are well combined and sausages are done, at 250-300°. It doesn't seem to matter much how long the cassoulet stays in the oven once the sausage is cooked — the beans won't cook further once they have cooled after their first simmering in the stock. Do add more stock as necessary to keep the liquid level just under the crumbs. We usually punch the crumbs down into the cassoulets once during the baking, sprinkling a few more crumbs over to replace them, and dribbling a little more goose fat over them.

13: Refrigerate the casseroles, covered, until needed.

THE DAY OF THE DINNER

14: Bring the cassoulet back to about 300° in a slow oven.
Add stock again if there is not enough liquid below the crumbs.
Serve with a sprinkle of walnut oil. Precede with oysters, all agree; follow with a green salad; accompany with a light red or rosé wine — we prefer Bandol red.

NOTES
The pork-fat-garlic purée touch, reported only by Paula Wolfert, is inspired; it thickens, binds and tenderizes the ragout.
Cassoulet improves upon standing. It should be assembled and cooked the day before eating. We generally make a lot of cassoulets at once, since it's a full day's work.
The choice of pot is extremely important. It may be the most significant variable in the entire operation. Shallow pots won't work at all; those too deep don't allow proper cooking or serving of the mixture. We prefer traditional terra-cotta poêles; ours measure 2 and 3 quarts.

SOURCES
Paulette Wolfert: The Cooking of Southwest France, pp. 238-240. Pierette Lejanou's recipe, not the one with fava beans — though that sounds wonderful.
Simone Beck et al.: Mastering the Art of French Cooking, vol. 1, pp. 399-404.
Jane Grigson: The Art of Charcuterie, pp. 168-171.
Elizabeth David: French Provincial Cooking, pp. 385-390. The Colombié recipe, said to be authentic, but lacking the Toulouse sausage! The "menagère" recipe, which omits confit, has also been consulted.
__________: French Country Food, pp. 93-95.
__________: The Book of Mediterranean Food, pp. 110-112.
Samuel Narcissa and Narcisse Chamberlain: The Flavor of France, vol. 2, p. 65.
Robert Courtine: The 100 Glories of French Cooking, p. 120.
Curnonsky: Recettes des Provinces de France, p. 222.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Baseball and Boulette's

A DAY AT THE BALL PARK, even if your team loses, is better than a day away from the park; only a day of tramping in the countryside can beat it; books are for rainy days. (So's blogging.) And so it was that we went, this week, to AT&T Park, as it's called this month, to see our beloved Cubs pick up two out of three from the cellar-lodging Giants.

Baseball and eating. I can think of no better way of spending a day than by strolling down to the Ferry Building to have a leisurely breakfast at Boulette's Larder, then stroll on further to the ball park to catch batting practice and the game, lunching on whatever you find—the food's really not at all bad. And then, after the game, which preferably your team has won (though that was alas not the case), to have a Martini, a hamburger, and a Caesar salad at Zuni.

What should we find at Boulette's yesterday but a reprint of a cartoon that appeared nearly twenty years ago, in 1989, after someone broke into our house (we lived then in Berkeley) and stole Lindsey's purse, which contained among other things her working recipe book.

But let me tell you about Boulette's. It's in the southwest corner of the Ferry Building, open to the east where it looks out on the Bay toward Yerba Buena Island. There are a few tables for two and four outside, and also in the hall of the Ferry Building outside the shop's own door; but the best place to sit, I think, is at the big table, perhaps five people at each side with plenty of room so that you don't at all mind eating with strangers.

I like this kind of communal table: it's more civilized than eating at a bar; gives a solitary diner company; and lets a couple entertain themselves with sly observations of the others, or by striking up a conversation that will likely never be continued.

And Boulette's kitchen, which is where you're eating, is light and airy, clean and visually interesting, full of detail and, of course, the busy staff at stoves and counters, fixing tea and coffee, baking, cooking eggs—all those things that are so fascinating to contemplate. Not to mention the scents, of course: a wonderful potpourri.

We just bought a copy of Patty Unterman's San Francisco Food Lover's Pocket Guide (Berkeley: Ten Speed Press, 2007), a very convenient 200-page compilation of notices and reviews of bakeries, bars, butchers, delis, markets, cafés, cheese shops, confectoners, food stands, cookware and cookbook shops, wine shops, and of course restaurants in San Francisco and environs. A quick look confirms its usefulness: it's small enough to fit in purse or pocket (just over 5x7 and a half inch thick); and cross-indexed by location, expense, cuisine, features, and so on. Stick with its general index, though: Boulette's does not show up among restaurants, though that's what I think it is; instead it's listed as a delicatessen/takeout—which is what it also is.

I'll let you look at Boulette's website rather than try to reproduce the menu here. It's daunting to try to describe it in a few words: the menu—"list" is a better word, because so much is available to take home with you—is varied and thoughtful, ranging from confit to canalé—salads, main courses, desserts, jams and whatnot. Hell: let Patty describe it: I'm sure she won't mind my quoting
Using only organic ingredients, Amaryll Schwertner, one of the Bay Area's most original and principled cooks, and her crew prepare building blocks for fine, home-cooked meals. If you don't want to cook yourself, each day brings a new menu of take-home dinners, such as a crab pudding soufflé—or, you can eat there at one fantastic wooden communal table. The breakfast is divine.
What I had, in fact, was a French-press pot of Blue Bottle coffee and a bowl of barley with a poached egg and shiitake mushrooms; Lindsey had a plate of delicious toast with three jams (apricot, blackberry, fig); and we had an amazing soy-and-melon-and-melonseed beverage, a sort of smoothie.

And then we took home a box of cookies—beautifully boxed and wrapped; the cookies themselves covered with a sheet of fine paper; and the cookies absolutely perfect: variously crunchy, creamy, evanescently powdery, leading up to a couple of splendid salt-chocolate brownieish cookies as good as any I've tasted.

Oh. And the canalé? Lindsey knows these pastries, of course; Jean-Pierre always talked about them, two scant inches across and three high, crisp and dark on the outside, soft and creamy inside, a little like a popover, but really nothing but themselves. I suppose they're channelled—canalisé—or extruded, almost, from their baking molds. They're labor-intensive. I only know two places to get them, Ken's in Portland (Oregon) and Boulette's. But Portland doesn't have big-league baseball.